Havoc sat on the sofa, his long legs falling off the edge of the coffee table, feeling like shit. The TV blared. Yankee supporters were waving their arms in the air. Judge must have hit another home run. Didn’t matter. His mind hadn’t been on the game or anything much since Mia had left. He missed her chatter, the uncanny way it soothed his nerves. Loved how her body fit with his, how her soft curves molded to his hard edges.
His mom had taken Charlie, slammed the door behind her, saying she wouldn’t be back until he came to his senses and apologized to Mia. She’d called him a coward for not telling her about Charlie before he took her to bed. Of course, hurting Mia had never been his intention, but selfishly, he had.
Half an hour after Mia took off with Trigger, he’d rung her, but she didn’t answer. For the best. From their first kiss, earth-shattering didn’t touch the sides when it came to how he felt, making love, being inside her. And if he hadn’t been hell bent on getting her naked, he might have taken a beat to tell her about Charlie. He’d never forget the shock on her face when she met the kid.
“Children aren’t her thing. Fuck, she couldn’t wait to get out of your place. And you didn’t stop her. Well done, hero.” His voice echoed through the empty, lonely room.
After a one-night stand with a man with fuck-all interest in being a parent, Lisa had been over the moon when she got pregnant with Charlie, but motherhood didn’t appeal to every woman. He got that. And he hadn’t changed his mind. Asking Mia on a date, contemplating a future, was fucking madness. He went to the cupboard and took out Charlie’s Lego. Anything to keep his hands busy, even if his mind couldn’t stop worrying.
Barney could be anywhere. Havoc didn’t doubt Trigger would protect her. Any of his team would die before they let anyone hurt her, but he should be the one keeping her out of danger. At the very least, Mia belonged by his side until they had Barney behind bars.
Snake reckoned the fucker had already left the country and was holed up somewhere in the Caribbean, working on his tan and ordering a Tequila Sunrise. Havoc took a long swallow of his beer and spat the flat, bitter liquid back into his glass. You fucked up. Not having Mia here with him left his heart heavy and his brain jammed with worst-case scenarios. He pinched the bridge of his nose and started counting. Sheep, dogs, fucking donkeys, but nothing settled his nerves like Mia’s smile. A quirk of those juicy, plump lips, and he was putty in her hands.
* * *
Mia gnawed her raggedy nails, wiggled her ass, and tried her best to get comfortable in the lumpy chair covered in well-scrubbed stains. Bored with sitting, she checked out the gloomy apartment. Snake had insisted she stay there with Trigger until he checked hospital security. No pictures on the walls. Shades covering the windows. The smell of burnt coffee coming from a room off the hallway she hadn’t had the courage to investigate. Yep. Exactly like the safe houses featured in cop shows.
Trigger laid his palm on her shoulder. “Easy there, Mia. You keep munching on those fingers and you’ll reach your elbows soon. Let me call Snake. See if I can get us the green light.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing.” He gave her upper arm a reassuring squeeze and pulled out his cell.
Tall, well built, she would bet a real softie lived behind the tall, well-built Viking. Mia smiled. Every year she took photos for a hunk calendar, the proceeds going to charity, and October needed filling. “Coffee?” she mouthed, planning to make that trip to the kitchen.
Trigger shook his head and flashed her a grin. A man who broke hearts without realising it. Just like Havoc. He finished his call, turned, and she could tell before he spoke, she wouldn’t like what he had to say.
“Sorry. We can’t go to the hospital yet. Still checking the area.”
It made no sense. Didn’t they work with military precision, speed a sharp tool in their go bags? This never happened to James Bond. “What’s the problem?” Frustrated, not trusting herself to stay nice, she picked up an old magazine from the coffee table and flicked through the dog-eared pages.
“Not sure. Snake didn’t say.”
Liar. “Okay. Excuse me a minute.” She threw the magazine onto the chair and headed for the bathroom. Being the only room with a lock on the door, it was the best place to hide and think. Mia looked out of the small window. They were on the second floor, with no fire escape, but could she squeeze through it, jump into the alley?
The phone buzzing in her pocket stopped her from trying it and breaking her already mangled leg. Worse still, her stupid neck. Her thumb hovered over the red button, ready to ignore Havoc again. Her heart beat double time when the hospital number flashed. “Mia speaking.”
“Hi. My colleague spoke to you earlier. Sorry to call again, but your friend Kelly is worried, wondering if you are on your way?”
Mia tapped her chest, trying to release the tight band enough to speak. “Yes. Please tell her I will be there soon.” Mia lowered her voice and hoped Trigger wouldn’t hear her ease open the bathroom door. Three feet, no more, separated her from the exit, and no sign of her keeper. She slipped off her shoes, crept forward, and fumbled with the lock. Footsteps echoed behind her. Damn.
“Mia?” Trigger yelled.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t wait for your boss to get his act together. Kelly needs me. If you won’t drive, I’ll grab a cab.” She wrenched the door open.
“Hang on.”
Another step and he’d catch her. Mia lurched ahead just as Barney sprang from nowhere, a gun in his hand.
“No!” Mia screamed.
“Get down!” Gun waving, Trigger ran straight for her.
One, two shots. Not again. She slammed into the floor, air gushing from her lungs. Trigger lay motionless beside her, blood seeping through his shirt. A sharp pain ripped along the stitches on her leg. A flash of movement in her peripheral vision, then Barney’s hard kick plowed into her side. Arms wrapped tightly around her waist, shielding herself from another blow, she curled into a ball.
Snorting, the pupils of his mean eyes black pin spots, Barney towered over them, his gun aimed at Trigger.
Her fault. He’d taken the bullet meant for her, and if she didn’t do something fast, Barney would kill him. Mia scrambled to her feet, threw her arms wide, and stood in front of Trigger. “Leave him alone. It’s me you want.”
“Out of the way. You’re next. First, tesoro, you get to watch your friend die.”
“No.” Blind fear and anger raged inside, propelling her forward. Her fists struck Barney’s chest. The gun flew out of his hand, but she kept pounding his head and neck. She remembered that from the martial arts class she’d taken last summer—aim for the soft, fleshy bits. They hurt.
“Get off me, bitch.”
“Not so tough now.” She spat the words and drove her knee into his fat belly. Hysteria threatened to choke her as she stabbed his toes with the heel of her shoe.
Trigger’s gun lay beside him. Mia made a dive for it. The weapon was much heavier than she imagined. Barney regained his balance and lunged for her. Hell. Mia fired. He slumped forward, blood gushing from his thigh.
Kneeling beside Trigger, she dropped the gun and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Don’t you die on me.” Her leg hurt, but not as bad as the burning hole in her arm. Blood trickling over her fingers, she steadied her hand and fished Trigger’s cell from his pocket, searched his contacts, and called Havoc. Relief pounded through her when he answered.
“Trig. What’s up?”
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Mia? Where’s Trigger?”
“Barney. He found us. Oh God, he shot Trigger and… Oh, shit, we need an ambulance.” How could Havoc forgive her for being such an idiot?
“Take a breath. Are you at the safe house?”
“Yes. Please hurry.”
“I’m on my way. Don’t hang up. I’ll be right back after I call the paramedics. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” She fought to keep her eyes open and concentrated on Havoc’s voice.
“Stay with me, Mia. Everything will be okay. I’m almost there.”