The quiet voice of a scared young girl slipped into Dani’s dreams. Over and over she dreamed of running, the same stretch of dark road, the double rhythm of her feet on the pavement and the pounding thud of her heartbeat in her ears. Dani ran toward darkness, not caring what was in front of her. Nothing could be as bad as what was behind her.
The girl’s voice grew louder, more insistent.
Don’t leave me.
Don’t leave me.
Don’t leave me.
Dani left her, too scared to go back.
The asphalt turned to hot black glue beneath her sneakers, pulling her down. She fought against it and kept running. Tree limbs stretched and plucked at her hair, her clothes. A hand grasped at her back, yanking on the material of her hoodie.
She got away from it all, except for the voice. The voice followed Dani wherever she went. The streets, the lab, and now this nebulous freedom. It haunted her, the ghost of her greatest shame.
Now that ghostly voice became a shriek and cold hands wrapped around her neck. Dani thrashed against the hold but the hands only squeezed tighter. He had her and he wouldn’t let her go.
Don’t you leave me with him!
Dani screamed and launched off the bed. Put her hands around his neck, squeezed his fucking throat until his breath came in sputters and gasps. Let him beg for a change.
“Dani, it’s me.”
His fingers pried at her hands, his skin warm. Her heart thundered, or maybe it was his she could hear.
“Please. You were screaming.” He tried to buck her off but she kept him nearly immobile. “Dani, it’s Kevin.”
The haze from her nightmare lifted. Her vision adjusted to the darkness of the room. Horrified, she released him and bolted away, huddling against the wall.
Kevin sat up, rubbing his throat with one hand. He coughed. “Are you okay?”
She’d nearly choked him to death, and he was asking if she was okay? “I’m sorry.” Burning shame, something she was all too familiar with, filled her with nausea. “So sorry.”
“I’m fine.” He coughed again. “Jesus, you’re strong.”
Too strong. God, she could have killed him. She had no business being around people if she couldn’t control herself. Hadn’t her actions in the Russian mob hangout proven that? She’d killed, injured, burned the damn place to the ground. All because she couldn’t control herself and the anger that was there, ready to strike.
She had no business being around anybody. Especially not an innocent person like Kevin. “I need to go.” She got to her feet, took a single step before vertigo spun the room. She closed her eyes and slumped against the wall.
“You had a nightmare. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I shouldn’t be here. I never should have gotten in the car with you.”
He touched her face. She opened her eyes to see him standing before her, close enough that she could hurt him again if she lost control.
“You had a nightmare and you’re shaken up,” he said. “Don’t make too much of it.”
“I hurt you.” She gulped down a breath and a sob then reached for his throat, dropping her hand before she could touch him.
Kevin took her hand in his and brought it to his throat. “I’m fine. No harm done.”
His pulse beat strong beneath her fingers, his skin warm. She blinked away tears. “I shouldn’t be here. If I don’t kill you by accident, the people looking for me will kill you.”
He moved closer, his hands on her shoulders, eyes boring into hers. “If you tell me you have someone else out there who can help you, somewhere else you can go and be safe. If you swear to me it’s the truth.” He brushed a tangle of hair from her face. “Then I’ll help you pack.”
Dani wanted to lie. Needed to lie. For his safety and her conscience. But her throat was clogged with tears and some shameful, weak part of her was so damned tired of being on her own. Tired of hiding. Tired of pretending.
“But if there’s no one else, you should stay here. I want you to stay here with me, Dani.” He cupped her face. “Do you hear me? Stay with me.”
Kevin must have been out of his mind, being willing to be so close to her, touch her, after she’d nearly strangled him. He should have been terrified to have her in his home, but instead he wanted her to stay. No way would she do it.
Pack a bag. Thank him for his help. Get back on the streets and somehow find a way out of town. Do it your damn self, you weak piece of shit.
He whispered her name and took her in his arms. She could have easily pushed him away, even hurt him to make a point. Instead she froze. He held her gently, murmuring wordless sounds of comfort. How long they stood there, she had no idea. Gradually, against her better judgment, she relaxed into his embrace. When the tears finally broke free and she buckled under their weight, he caught her and carried her to the bed. Held her in arms that had their own natural strength. Cradled her against the wall of his chest and rocked her until finally the only voice she could hear was his.
The next time she woke up, the space next to her in the bed was still warm from his presence. Sunlight streamed around the edges of the blinds. Her eyes were puffy and raw from crying and hunger gnawed at her stomach.
At least she wasn’t screaming this time. That used to be common. Dani sat up and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Plenty of people on the streets found safety in numbers, especially at night. They slept in shelters or in abandoned buildings with others nearby. Dani had never liked that. It didn’t make her feel safe, especially when her nightmares provoked questions. She was a lot less afraid of risking attack now, after the lab, than she had been when she was first on the streets.
Now, shivering from the night’s aftershocks, loneliness pushed her out of the bed. She wanted company, something to ward off the darkness and the lingering echo of the voice from her dreams. It never stayed quiet long, but then, she didn’t deserve it’s silence.
She didn’t deserve the care and comfort offered by the man who’d held her while she cried last night, either. Blasted open emotionally, still suffering physically from her time on the streets plus all the fights, Dani just wasn’t strong enough yet to walk away like she needed to. She would let herself recover here, accept some of Kevin’s help within reason, and then leave as soon as she felt strong enough.
Torn between acute embarrassment over last night’s breakdown and the overwhelming need for food, Dani put off facing him by taking a shower and getting dressed. A faint whiff of bacon reached her and she said to hell with it, wrapped a towel around her wet hair, and went downstairs.
She came to a halt at the kitchen doorway. Bright sunlight filled the room. Kevin adroitly juggled the cooking of eggs on the stove and bacon in the microwave. A breakfast nook in one corner held a carafe of orange juice, along with glasses and silverware. The kitchen was just as upscale as everything else in the apartment, but also both functional and lived-in. For the first time she wondered about the lack of servants.
Mostly, though, she watched Kevin. A white t-shirt was molded to his chest, showing every dip and curve of muscle on his lean, cut physique. Jeans hugged his hips and thighs, showing off his rear to great effect. She took a good long look at the arms that had held her last night. Defined muscle, crisp golden hair, beautifully formed hands with long, elegant fingers. A tattoo peeked out beneath the sleeve on his right arm. She wanted to trace its lines with a fingertip, push the cloth up to examine the design.
Maybe she should have taken a cold shower. Dani shook her head, shocked at the direction of her thoughts.
“Good morning.” Kevin pointed at the breakfast nook then opened a cabinet and withdrew two plates. “Have a seat, the food’s ready.”
So he’d known she was standing there. Ogling him. No, there was no way he knew that. He might have been alerted to her presence by some tiny sound, but he hadn’t turned around and seen the look on her face, the interest that no doubt had shown in her eyes.
She slipped into the nook and poured orange juice in both glasses. He brought a plate laden with bacon and eggs, placed it on the table in front of her, holding on to the edge a beat too long. She looked up at him, a thank you on her lips.
His mouth curved into a slow, sexy smile and he winked.
Oh shit. So he had some kind of sixth sense about when he was being ogled. Dani dropped her gaze to the food, willing herself not to blush.
“What would you like on your toast?”
She risked a glance, relieved that his smile had dimmed to something approaching normal. “Whatever. I’m not that picky when it comes to food.”
He sipped his orange juice. “I’m really good at breakfast and brunch. The other meals, not so much.”
Dani tucked into her food while he finished up. When he finally sat he brought two plates, one his and the other stacked with buttered toast. They ate in silence for several minutes.
“I talked to my friend. She’ll be in touch about the new identity. We need to provide her with a photo and the name and details you want to use.”
Dani was only mildly surprised he had a contact who could make that happen. “I don’t have a way to pay for it,” she said hesitantly.
“You saved my life, remember? That’s payment enough.”
“How long will it take?”
“She didn’t say. Not long.”
“I need to leave as soon as possible.”
He picked up a piece of toast and offered it to her. She took it, frowning.
“I know,” he said. “Actually, there is another way you could pay me back for all this.”
Dani tensed. Just because she’d ogled him didn’t mean she’d agree to any kind of sexual payment. If he suggested it…it would hurt, bad, and destroy her estimation of him. Plus she’d probably break his handsome face.
His blue eyes took on an intensity she’d only seem once or twice in him so far. “Tell me how.”
No explanation was necessary. He wanted to know how she’d fought off his attackers, and survived taking on a house full of Russian gangsters. In the months since her escape, she’d never once been tempted to tell anyone the truth. It was dangerous knowledge, not to mention damned near unbelievable.
But she found herself tempted to tell Kevin. Despite the danger and the risk that he wouldn’t believe her, and the fear that confiding in someone only appealed to her out of weakness. The idea of someone else knowing the truth, not just the truth of what was done to her but the truth of what it had made her – it begged the question, could he accept it?
Could he accept her?
If he knew it all, would he still look at her like she was a human being?
It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. “No.”