Her challenging smile thrilled something inside him. “That’s fair.”
He stepped back to give her some space. “Good. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” She looked around the room. “I do have to ask. What if I didn’t agree with you about your keeping secrets from me? Considering people shoot at you, and I’m going to be at your side, it seems fair that you tell me who these people are.” She cocked her head to the side and focused back on him.
“I have more immediate concerns than being fair,” he said smoothly. “You brought me into this mess.”
A frown drew down her eyebrows. “Listen. I want an answer about you.”
“I just gave you one.” At her mulish expression, he searched for better words that wouldn’t end in an argument.
Suddenly, the door blew wide open and bounced loudly off the table. “Anya!” he yelled, jumping for her.
CHAPTER
10
Anya yelped as Heath tackled her to the floor, rolled her behind the bed, and leaped back up in a span of seconds. Her ears rang, and her breath came out in short bursts. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the air.
What was happening?
She grabbed the bedcover and forced herself to stand. Wind blew snow to swirl inside as Heath fought with a man hand to hand, both hitting hard and furiously. The guy wore all black, with a dark ski mask covering his face, and he moved as quickly as Heath did. A series of punches and kicks came from them both.
God, they were fast and brutal. Her knees shook.
Heath’s face was a mask of savage concentration with an odd calmness. No anger, no fear. Just raw intensity. He punched the other guy in the jaw and pivoted to land a kick on the attacker’s chest. The guy flew back and shattered the cheap mirror on the wall. Glass crashed down.
Faster than possible, he leaped up and kicked Heath in the jaw. “That one is from Sheriff Cobb,” the guy said, his voice low and hoarse.
Heath’s head snapped back and he fell onto the bed, then rolled backward and stood. With a ferocious roar, he shot forward and hit the attacker in the midsection, the momentum plowing them both into the wall. “Give him this in return,” Heath muttered. Sheetrock cracked and powder flew in every direction. The guy reacted with a chop to the throat and a knee to the gut.
Heath let out a painedoofand dropped to one knee.
“Heath!” Anya screamed. A weapon. There had to be some sort of weapon around there. Maybe a fork from dinner last night?
Even as she scanned the room for anything she could use, Heath jumped straight up and hit the attacker beneath the jaw with his head. The guy’s skull flew back into the wall with an ominous crack.
Heath finished with a flurry of punches to the middle of the guy’s body and then pivoted to kick the guy’s knee. The guy bellowed and swung an arm, nailing Heath in the jaw with an elbow. Who was this guy?
How were they both standing? The blows they’d both taken would’ve knocked out a buffalo.
The men breathed heavily, circling each other, eyes missing nothing.
She had never in her life seen such purposeful violence. They both fought with no emotion and didn’t seem to feel pain. How was that even possible? Her knees weakened, even as her fingers tightened into a fist. Her breath panted out. She should run. Man, she should run.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Somebody in the hotel must’ve called the police. Thank God.
The guy stiffened and yanked out a gun.
“Shit.” Heath leaped over the bed and straight into Anya. It was like being hit by a truck. Her body recoiled and the air whooshed out of her lungs.
She dug her fingers into his torso and screamed. Heath’s hands clamped around her back and landed on the carpet first. His big body covered her in one long line of rippling muscle, pressing her to the floor.
Bullets ripped into the wall above their heads.
He grabbed her head and tucked it into his neck, holding tight.
She whimpered against his skin.
