The moment she felt Jake loosen his hold the slightest bit, she moved. No hesitation, no concern for what Trevor might or might not do. She just reacted, stomping down on top of Jake’s right foot with the heel of her boot. At the same time, she brought the edge of her right hand down in a groin strike, whacking Jake in the balls. It wasn’t as hard as she could have hit him—she didn’t want the man writhing on the floor in pain—but it was enough to make him jerk away. Protecting the family jewels was as instinctive for a man as breathing.
Reaching up, she grabbed the hand he had draped over her shoulder, twisting it away from her body and torqueing his wrist until she swore she heard it creak. He had no choice but to let her go…or let her break his wrist.
Alina lunged forward and to the left just as Trevor’s gun went off. Hitting the floor, she tucked into a roll then grabbed her paintball gun and came up shooting.
Jaxson had been caught off guard by her sudden move, and he wasted half a second trying to decide if he should shoot her or Trevor. That delay cost him. Alina came up on one knee and popped him three times in the chest.
She continued moving, spinning around to face Jake, not sure what she would find. But she was delighted to see him standing there where she’d left him, a fluorescent pink paint splat right in the middle of his forehead. He looked pissed.
She turned to confirm that Jaxson was down as well and found Trevor regarding her, his gaze both thoughtful and approving.
“See how well it works when you trust each other?” Sabrina called from the catwalk. “Took you long enough!”
Alina ignored the training officer, focusing on Trevor as he continued to study her intently. It was impossible to say how she knew it, but something had just changed between them.
“Don’t stand there looking all impressed with yourselves!” Sabrina shouted. “Head back outside so we can see if you can be a team for more than ten seconds at a time. And Jake, wipe that paint splat off your face. You look ridiculous.”
Alina and Trevor made their way toward the front door. As she screwed another pressure bottle onto the bottom of her paintball gun, Trevor motioned toward the building with his chin.
“How about we try something different this time?” he suggested. “You take lead, and I’ll cover you.”
She didn’t answer right away, wondering if there was going to be a catch. When there didn’t seem to be one, she nodded.
“Okay. I can do that,” she agreed.
Before she could say anything else, the start buzzer went off again.
Alina shoved open the front door with her shoulder, forcing herself to trust her partner. They moved from room to room much faster this time, dealing with pop-up targets and the occasional appearance by Jake and Jaxson. Sometimes, they missed a target and got dinged for it; other times, Jake and Jaxson got them. But throughout the whole thing, she and Trevor worked together and covered each other. By the time they rescued the hostage, she and Trevor were that much closer to becoming a real team.
It was crazy how good that made her feel, considering that, according to the director of the DCO, Trevor was the enemy.
* * *
Trevor hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he and Alina walked into the Pizza Place in nearby Dumfries and he breathed in the aroma of garlic and freshly made tomato sauce coming from the kitchen. Damn, he could eat a whole pie himself.
He and Alina had finished up training two hours ago, then spent another thirty minutes hanging around talking with Jake and Jaxson before getting cleaned up. Alina had been fine with grabbing something for lunch at the DCO cafeteria, but Trevor hadn’t felt like sitting there while his coworkers stared at him like he was some kind of freak. Plus, this place made fantastic pizza.
Spotting an empty booth toward the back of the dining room, Trevor pointed it out to Alina, then gestured for her to lead the way.
The excellent food wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to get off the complex. He also wanted to talk to Alina in a setting a little more private than the cafeteria. This morning’s training had made him curious about her. Once again, he had this crazy feeling he’d pegged her all wrong.
They both ordered iced tea when their server came over to drop off their menus. Alina glanced at hers for all of five seconds before looking at him.
“You want to split a medium pepperoni?” she asked, her expression hopeful.
“Let’s make it a large,” he said. “I’m pretty hungry.”
Their server brought their drinks, then disappeared with their order, leaving an awkward silence in her wake. Trevor added sweetener to his tea, searching for the best way to start the conversation. Across from him, Alina suddenly seemed very interested in the old pictures mounted on the wall above the booth.
Damn, this was so much easier when he was teamed up with Jake and Ed. Then again, training with them had been a whole hell of a lot less difficult, too.
This morning had been ugly, at least at the start of the shoot-house exercise. He was man enough to admit that a good portion of the blame for that train wreck rested squarely on his shoulders. Yeah, he’d been thrown for a loop by Jake’s trick with the noise and cow urine, but the biggest reason they’d done so poorly was because they’d flat-out refused to trust each other. With his shifter hearing and sense of smell taken out of the equation, he’d been dependent on Alina to watch his back as they’d moved through the house, but his suspicions of her made that leap of faith impossible.
It had taken Alina doing something extraordinary, like putting her complete faith in him and risking a paintball to the side of the head, to get him to realize he was being stupid. Dick might have hired her, but that didn’t have to define her. Maybe that’s what his gut had been trying to tell him. Maybe there was more to Alina than the job she’d been hired to do. While he wasn’t ready to trust her completely, he’d at least give her a chance.
“I guess you like pizza, huh?” he asked lamely, finally breaking the silence that had gone from merely awkward to seriously uncomfortable.
Alina turned her attention away from the photos on the wall to give him a sheepish look. “Yeah. When I was growing up, Friday was pizza night at our house. Mom and Dad made a big event out of it, so I always associate pizza with family and good times.” A smile curved her lips. “Now, it’s my number one go-to comfort food. My freezer is stuffed full of them, and the front of my fridge is covered in magnets from all the local delivery places.”
