Shatter (13 page)

But that wouldn’t change. Because those visions she’d seen had been the good and bad of his future. She knew from experience they were based on the decisions that were made now. Make the wrong choice, Mitch would die. Make the right one, he would live happily and, evidently, sexually fulfilled. They were both losing scenarios for Halina, but again, that wouldn’t change either.

She might not know exactly when her visions were coming, she might not be able to control them, but she knew with absolute certainty they were accurate.

And that made her future impossibly agonizing. Unless . . .

“Is . . . is Schaeffer really brain-dead?” she asked.

Mitch’s hands continued to travel over her, but she didn’t need comforting anymore. He caressed the back of her neck. Slid a hand along her waist. His lips pressed against her temple and the breath he released carried the faintest moan of desire.

“He’s in a coma,” he said. “But everything about that man is a lie. I don’t trust anything unless I see it with my own eyes, and his hospital room is off-limits, guarded by Secret Service.”

Halina had a hard time paying attention to the answer with him kissing his way across her jaw, and down her neck, spreading tingles across her skin.

“I have condoms,” he murmured, his hand sliding under her shirt and up her side. “If you want to . . .”

God, his touch felt
so
beauti—

His words clicked. She pulled back and gripped his wandering hand.
“What?”

“Baby, you have to admit, us together—that was crazy-amazing.” Lust created a dark gold haze over his eyes and his voice lowered. “I’m already hard again.”

“No . . .” Her entire body tightened with a sudden renewal of desire. Panicked she’d have another logic lapse, Halina slid toward the edge of the bed to stand. “No, no, no, Mitch—”

He didn’t let her get two inches before he hauled her back. “Is this about—?“

“Mitch.”

She turned her gaze on him. He was looking at her with a distant light of hope, making so many of her own dreams and beliefs rise from the shadows to taunt her.

He was the only man she’d ever wanted. Ever loved. The only man who’d ever believed in her, encouraged her, or treated her like an equal. The only man who’d made her feel worthy of everything she’d ever earned. And so much more.

For all those reasons, she scraped together her last ounce of strength and pushed her own needs and wants aside. “Look, it’s not going to happen again, okay? Yes, it was amazing. But it always was. That’s not what it was about. You came here wanting to put me behind you, remember?”

Keeping watch on him now would be so much more difficult. Halina had developed a certain numbness to his being with other women. Sometimes she’d even been able to dig deep and find sincere happiness for him. But now . . . she was certainly no saint. It would break her heart all over again.

But it was better than the alternative.

He was frowning at her, but in confusion, not anger. Which meant he was still trying to figure her out. Those knowing eyes, that sharp mind and all his experience in the courtroom gave him such an acute way of looking into people.

“Excuse me.” She moved into the bathroom, shut the door, and pressed the lock. Then she slid to the floor, still holding the knob as tears burned her eyes. Her breaths came heavy and fast, everything hitting her at once now that she had a place to let down.

Exhausted, terrified, hurting, she couldn’t keep it together anymore. She pressed her leaking eyes to her knees and took giant, gulping breaths to make sure Mitch didn’t hear her cry.

She let out enough emotion only to get back under control. If she passed that delicate point of no return, he wouldn’t have to hear her to know she’d been crying; her face would be ravaged with the signs.

Within sixty seconds, she had brought herself to that cold, icy place of resignation. So fast it scared her on some level. She’d taught herself to do it very young. A girl only had to get beaten so many times for letting tears spill to learn how to control them. But she hadn’t realized how much of that girl was still inside her. She hadn’t had to force herself to stop crying in years.

With hurt forming a shell, Halina pushed to her feet. At the sink, she splashed cold water on her face and tried to figure out what to do next. Getting away from Mitch would be best for them both. As far away as possible. But he was determined to get something out of her. And the thought of all those people Schaeffer had hurt because Halina hadn’t come forward burrowed into her soul.

She wanted to help. She wanted him stopped. Wanted him to pay. Truthfully, she wanted him dead.

But she also realized giving up her evidence meant giving up the leverage that kept Mitch safe. Within hours of Schaeffer discovering he had her tapes and files, Mitch would be dead. She hadn’t had any doubt of that before the visions. And now, with Abernathy willing to kill anyone who got in his way, and Mitch, so annoyingly and consistently
in his way
. . . the risk doubled.

But she could do this. She could handle this. She’d handled worse. For far longer.

And there was a good side to the visions, where Mitch survived and moved on to happiness. She just needed to continue to make the right decisions. Keep him making the right decisions. All without knowing exactly what those decisions were. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out cause and effect, especially when it came to men like Schaeffer. At least not for Halina.

“What a mess.” She took a deep breath before finger-combing her hair back into a bun.

When she opened the door, she found Mitch standing at the only window, feet spread, arms crossed. He turned as soon as he heard the door, holding his cell. He’d put his shirt back on—definitely a plus—and his face registered the same resignation that had taken over Halina.

She glanced through the room for the first time, a king suite—one bed, fireplace, sofa, big-screen TV, mini-fridge. Pushing away the urge to lie down next to Dex, whose dazed golden eyes stared at her now, she crossed to the fridge and peeked inside. A sigh of relief drifted through her lips when she found it stocked. She grabbed a can of Coke and sat on the edge of the bed next to Dex, one leg curled under her.

She swept a hand over his thick fur and leaned down to look into his glassy eyes. Gratitude swamped her. “Hey baby.”

The tip of his fuzzy tail wagged and his tongue slipped out to lick her nose. The love that sprang into her heart soothed a lot of the pain. Not all. Nothing could soothe it all. But it was a start.

With the side of her face pressed to Dex’s shoulder, Halina met Mitch’s eyes. “Thank you for saving him. I don’t know what I would have done . . .”

Her voice choked off, but Mitch nodded in understanding.

She sat up, popped the top on the Coke, and decided to just rip off the Band-Aid. “Let’s get this over with so we can go our own ways. What do you want to know?”

She took a long drink of the soda. Her mouth burst with flavored carbonation, and she swore she could feel the sugar passing directly into her veins. She drained half the can and let out a sigh. Then realized he hadn’t asked her anything and met his gaze with one lowered brow.

“Halina”—his slow, smooth voice washed over her, making her chest ache—“we aren’t going our own ways until we know if you’re pregnant or not.”

Dread slid around her shoulders like a blanket. She closed her eyes. “That could take a month.”

“No,” he said, calmly. “Seven days or sooner with a blood test. Ten days with a urine test.”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. His expression was tense, his eyes edged with impatience.

“Tell me you just looked that up on the Internet,” she said, “because otherwise, I don’t want to know how you know—”

“Alyssa.” He tipped his head and sighed his sister’s name. “You hang around with a doctor long enough, handle enough paternity suits for military guys who didn’t father a kid by FedEx from Afghanistan, and you figure these things out.”

“Well, I don’t have a sister who’s a doctor or handle paternity cases.”

A grin turned his mouth, his eyes on that high-powered twinkle setting. “
You’re
a doctor, Hali. And a woman.”

“I’m a scientist, not a medical doctor. And neither makes me an expert on pregnancy-testing time limits.” She pressed the Coke can to her forehead and rolled it side to side. “Can we change the subject before I hyperventilate?”

His smile faded, but his voice remained soft when he said, “Hali, I’m serious about taking the baby if you—”

“It’s . . . not”—she laughed so she wouldn’t cry—“a . . . baby . . . yet. Please, Mitch . . . Unless you want to be stuck with a psychotic melting pot of emotion, that’s something I can’t discuss until there
is
something to discuss.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked at the wall. If he insinuated she didn’t want their baby one more time . . .

Dammit, now he had
her
doing it.
There is no baby.
Yet.

His cell rang and he murmured, “This will only take a minute. Yes,” he said into the cell, formal, clear. A business call. Probably someone overseas, considering the hour. “That’s correct. No, just two of us.”

Concern perked Halina’s ears.

“I understand,” Mitch said. “That’s not a problem. I appreciate the last-minute accommodation. I’m not sure on that. Can I let you know tomorrow when we board?”

Halina’s concern escalated to alarm.

“Great.” Mitch picked up a pencil nearby and jotted notes. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve got it. Eight a.m. sharp. Thank you.”

As soon as he disconnected, she asked, “Who and what was that?”

The set of his expression made her hands clench. Resolute, dominant, yet reconciled with the fact that he was about to catch some shit. Yes, she could read it all in one look. Seven years later.

“Our flight reservation—”

“Mitch, we can’t fly—”

“Is on a private jet.”

That killed her argument. “Well . . .” She crossed her arms tight to ease the sudden tingle across her shoulders. “You have made your mark, haven’t you?”

“Honey, you live in a million-dollar house on a lake in the most sought-after neighborhood of Seattle, drive a brand-new fifty-thousand-dollar sports car with another one in storage, and you’ve got another twenty grand in guns and a cool hundred grand in cash. You don’t have a lick of credit to your name-
s
.” He emphasized the
s
as a
z
and dragged it out. “Don’t
even
get me started on your finances.”

Her mouth hung open. Anger coiled and coiled with no exit. “How—? What—? You—?”

“Yes, Halina,” he answered her unspoken question, hands on hips. “I have a tendency to snoop in my spare time and I found it all in your storage unit. Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of opportunity to explain all of that to me later.”

“Explain my ass. I earned my money the same way you earned yours. I don’t have to explain shit to you.”

“Your finances don’t add up. Not at a salary of a hundred grand a year.”

“That is none of your damn business.”

“It sure as hell is if you took a payoff from Schaeffer before you ran.”

She pulled in a breath, mouth open in shock. Fury and indignation flushed her skin hot. Pushed her lungs against her ribs.

“You bastard,” her voice scraped out of her throat, harsh with rage. “You get livid over me
judging
you, then throw that shit at me?” She pointed a rigid finger at his chest. “You’d better not say that again unless you’ve got proof of it, which I know you don’t. Nor will you ever.”

His mouth twisted in frustration, but he didn’t argue. He leaned his ass against the arm of a chair and braced his hands alongside his hips. The muscles of his shoulders, chest, and biceps bunched, stretching his shirt and teasing Halina’s gaze.

“You should get some sleep. We’re flying out early to meet the team—”

“What?” In the speed of a finger snap, all her tension returned. “Wait. No.
What?
”

The lack of sleep was catching up with her.

Mitch relaxed his arms and straightened his spine. “That’s what the jet is for, so we don’t have to drive another twelve hours to reach them.”

Them.
All those people who’d suffered because of Halina. “Where?”

“Truckee, California, just outside—”

“Lake Tahoe. Why? What possible benefit can we gain by going there?”

He heaved a sigh and for the first time, shadows creased the inner corners of his eyes. “All the information we’ve collected is there. Two of the other couples on the team, Keira and Luke and Jessica and Quaid, live there too. Alyssa and Teague’s home is huge, in the middle of ten acres and backs up to a national forest. Their property is surrounded by a military-grade security system and round-the-clock ex-military guards. We all fit there and we’re all safe there.”

She pressed the Coke to the side of her neck to cool the sudden heat flash and fanned her face with the other hand. She recognized the extreme measures and didn’t have to ask why they were necessary. “No. You go, but not me.”

“Hali, please don’t start.”

She barely heard him. A new sound rose in her ears, a hum or a buzz or something. She pushed to her feet, wobbled a little until her light-headedness eased, then shifted foot to foot with nowhere to go. No exit. No escape.

“What did you tell them about me?” She couldn’t have heard the answer even if he’d given her one, but it didn’t matter. She knew—he’d told them everything. She could tell how close they were by the way he talked about them.