He made a V with his fingers, pointing at his eyes, then at her.
I’m watching you.
The subway pulled out of the station. She sank into a seat, her legs weak and wobbly, her hands shaking likecrazy. An old woman across the way looked pointedly at her bare feet then to the baby, but said nothing.
Only the police had known where she was.
Only the police!
She racked her brain for any other possibility but found none. It was a police safe house, for Pete’s sake, and they’d nearly been killed. They wouldn’t be safe in police protection again. She couldn’t go home.
So, what the hell am I going to do now?
Her eyes found the subway line map.
68thStreet.
59thStreet.
51stStreet.
Grand Central — 42ndStreet.
Her eyes zeroed in on that one, picturing the stop in her mind. It was just two blocks away from the public library at 5thAvenue and 41stStreets.
She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, her arms hugging her baby more tightly to her chest.
She had no choice.
There was only one place left to go.
To HERO Force.
To Gavin.
To the man she still dreamed about, who didn’t want her. The Navy SEAL tormented by his past. The father of her child and the one person on earth she needed to stay away from. Still, going to Gavin had to be safer than returning to police protection.
But even as she thought it, she knew that might not be true at all. Her life and Abby’s would likely be protected by HERO Force, but there was no doubt in Eva’s mind—her heart was about to be brutalized.
2
Gavin put all his frustration into his fists as he pounded the heavy bag in HERO Force’s Manhattan office. His hands were taped inside his boxing gloves, his knuckles numb from the force of the impact. He’d been at it almost an hour – long enough that his doubts were beginning to quiet.
He came here to keep the voices at bay – the ones that told him he wouldn’t be able to do this, that he had nothing left to give. He’d already spent too much time—the better part of three years—accepting that truth, living with the aftermath of what he’d done.
It was time to try something else. Time to leave his self-imposed seclusion and reenter the world. Either he could contribute to it, or he could not, but he’d spent long enough avoiding this challenge.
He kicked the bag with his knee, then his ankle, the practiced martial arts moves more a part of his fighting repertoire than the punches. His martial arts skill was more than just a passing ability—it was what made him a trainedkiller, lethal weapon, designed by Uncle Sam and used to his advantage.
The old resentment bubbled up inside him, and he worked to tamp it back down.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Razorback standing at the edge of the mat. “What’s up?”
Razorback walked toward him. “I just wanted to see how you are settling in.”
Gavin clenched his teeth. Razorback didn’t really want to know what he was dealing with, didn’t want to know about the stress that threaten to eat him alive. They were standing in a gym full of equipment made to hurt people, and Gavin didn’t even trust himself to use it. “Fine.”
“Bullshit.” Razorback moved to the heavy bag and executed a series of sharp jabs, the deeply scarred side of face articulated beneath the bright gym lights, its bits of pink contrasting with the deep brown skin on the rest of his body. “You were full of it then, and you’re full of it now.”
