Heath sucked in air. “Where the hell did you get a gun?”
Not exactly the supportive remark she would’ve appreciated. “Doesn’t matter. Carl, I’d really like to shoot you.” She lowered her aim to his groin. “In the balls.”
Carl pressed back against the building. “You wouldn’t.”
The man didn’t sound so sure this time, did he? Anya steadied her aim. “Oh, I would. Believe me. I’d really enjoy it.” To think she’d actually dated this dipshit. He’d seemed so intellectual, and he’d come from a law-enforcement family, just like she had. Man, she’d been fooled.
Heath studied her and then shrugged. “Your call, darlin’.” He stepped out of the way.
Carl sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” She inhaled and carefully exhaled. “Sure, I might get in trouble. But since you stalked me across state lines, I think I can convince a prosecutor that I was just protecting myself. You know?” Maybe she could. Her finger tightened on the trigger. Perhaps she should just shoot above his head? “Last chance.”
“Fine,” Carl spat. “I tracked the GPS on your phone. I’ve always tracked you that way.”
Heath closed his eyes and shook his head. “Shit.”
Anya slowly lowered her hand. “We’ll have to fix that.” Her heart pattered wildly. Um, what now? Should she just leave? Or should she wait for Carl to decide not to call the police? She bit her lip.
Heath must’ve caught her uncertainty. “Let’s get out of here.” He glared at Carl. “This is a one-shot deal. Come near her again, and I’ll end you.” He strode forward and grasped Anya’s arm, gently turning her toward the street. “Let’s go.”
She stumbled next to him, her knees still shaking, while everyone else followed. The altercation had been bloody, and yet with Heath at her side her body felt alive in a way it never had. Awake and tingly. “This is weird,” she murmured.
“Where did you get the gun?” he asked quietly.
“From me,” Zara said from behind them, accepting the gun when Anya handed it back.
“Great,” Heath said as they reached the vehicles, his gaze scanning the empty street. His shoulders appeared to be drawn back, and he didn’t meet her eyes. While he seemed to be on high alert, there was a tension—almost a sadness—that all but rolled from him. Something in him—in it—touched her. “You can drive with Ryker if you want,” he said.
Anya turned and faced him squarely. What was it deep inside her that wanted to soothe him? “I’m riding with you. We need to talk.” Without waiting for an answer, she reached for the door of the Jeep. The guy had gone nutso to defend her, and something about that electrified her entire body. She was crazy.
He beat her to the door, holding it open until she’d jumped inside.
“We’ll settle up with the waitress,” Ryker called out by the diner door. “Denver is with us.”
Heath nodded, crossed to the other side, got in, and ignited the engine.
What should she say? The man only sat at the other end of the seat from her, but the distance felt immense. A sense of safety wrapped around her just from his nearness, and she wanted more. Her body definitely wanted more, and she had to fight herself to keep from scrambling right into his lap.
He drove down the lonely street, and snow began to fall on the windshield. “Sorry you had to see that.”
She studied his strong and capable hands on the steering wheel. His knuckles were bruised, and one had split. The idea of those hands touching her, really touching her, caught her breath in her throat. “This is my fault, not yours.” She was an educated, intellectual woman. Violence wasn’t a part of her life. Yet there was something so primitive about Heath losing it to protect her, to defend her, that ignited her. Why was that? Were baser feelings like that a preview for a disaster? Or for something deep and inexplicable? God, she wanted him. Now. Without thinking and rationalization. “I should’ve gotten a new phone.” She had to concentrate on the conversation.
Heath nodded. “We can get rid of the GPS tracking on it. No need for a new phone.”
“Oh.” There was so much she didn’t know about the world—a place that Heath seemed to navigate easily. Why that turned her on, she’d never understand. The adrenaline still coursing through her made it difficult to concentrate on anything but burning it off. The best way would be with his strong body. What was going on with her? “You kind of lost your mind back there.”
“Yeah.” He sighed as he made a left turn. “My temper is usually much better controlled, but I have definite triggers. I’ll do better next time.”
How could she explain how much she wanted to reach over and soothe his hurts? She was so tired of not following her feelings. If they got her into trouble again, did it really matter? Would a night with Heath be worth it? Probably. Or she’d get her heart broken. Yet after losing Loretta, did that matter? “I’m sorry I backed away from you,” she said softly, her hands in her lap. “It was just a moment, you know?”
“Yeah. I get that.” He flipped on the windshield wipers as the snow increased in force.
Was there a way she could help him? “Have you talked to anybody about, well, triggers?”
“Yep. My brothers and a shrink a few years back. Ryker all but forced me there, but I’m glad he did. I’m usually better than this.” His greenish-brown eyes caught her gaze. “I’m worried about you, Anya. Everything about you is soft and sweet and smart, and I want to put you somewhere safe now. It eats at me that I can’t.”
Yet he could. There was no doubt he was bigger, stronger, and meaner . . . and he could probably easily secure her safety against her will. The fact that he wouldn’t do that warmed her chilled body. Heat flushed through her, and she crossed her legs. “I like you, too,” she said. Yeah, she’d just opened herself up. Perhaps she was crazy.
