“We’ll call Gladys. And McCabe. And anyone else you need. I’ll keep you safe, baby.”
“You can’t.” I draw back. Tears cool on my cheeks. “Don’t you understand?—”
“I don’t understand a fucking thing. You’re talking in circles. You won’t answeranyof my questions. We can’t stay here, yet you’re the one who broke in. Why? If you were only going to run again?”
Shit. He didn’t find my note. There’s my answer. He can read it, and I won’t have to explain.
“Your office. On your desk. I wrote you a letter,” I whisper. I’m too weak to hide it from him. But it’s not just my body betraying me. My mind—and my heart—they’re in on it too.
His expression hardens. “No.”
“No? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’re not going to take the coward’s way out here, Nat. If that’s even your real name. You’re going to talk to me. Tell me all of it. Right now.”
“Or…? Ultimatums like that usually come with an ‘or else.’” I shouldn’t push him. This is what I wanted. Isn’t it? For him to know me? This is my chance. But I’m so scared he’ll decide I’m not worth the effort and walk away. Or worse. Kick me out of his house before I can warn him of the danger he’s in.
He stares at me, his blue eyes churning like the sea before a storm.
Here goes nothing.
“Nat is my real name. Sort of. Natasha Janelle Winters. Sergeant First Class, United States Army. Second Battalion, Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment.”
“Natasha.” He’s still wary. But he relaxes enough to rummage among the medical supplies for a fresh bandage, hand it to me, and turn so I can smooth it over his side. “I only knew of one woman who made it through Ranger school. A sniper. She works for McCabe now.”
“They don’t talk about me. Because of…what happened.” God, why is this so hard? I want to tell him. Ineedto tell him. But I can’t get the words to come. So instead, I roll up the sleeve of the t-shirt and show him the flowery tattoo on my left arm. “Can you see it? I still can. Barely. But…”
He traces a finger over one of the roses. Down the stem to the next bud where the letterSforms the edge of the flower. “Sua Sponte. Why did you cover it up?”
“Because I knew if anyone found out who I was, my life would be over.”
Doc
Natasha’s gaze darts to the window—and the encroaching darkness outside. “Blinds. Please? And…my gun. If we’re staying here tonight, I need it.”
I pull the shade, then move to the walk-in closet. I’m not sure she can evenholda gun at this point. But I can manage. The biometric lock on my safe beeps, and the door pops open. When I searched her bag for something she could wear, I found her Glock, and it sits next to mine on the top shelf.
I grab both of them, check the magazines, and secure the door.
“You’re in no condition to shoot. But if it makes you feel better to have it close by, so be it.” I set her pistol on the nightstand, clip my holster to my jeans, and sit on the bed, facing her. She’s tense, her gaze fixed on the gun with her fingers clenching and unclenching around the blankets. “Natasha, look at me.”
Fucking hell. The fear in her eyes twists at my heart. I want to find out who put it there and end them. Painfully.
I’m a healer. Hurting people goes against everything I am. But I’m falling for this woman. Keeping her safe is the only thing that matters.
I cup her cheek and relish the way she leans into my hand. “The doorbell camera will capture anyone who approaches the house from the front. I have a spare camera in the kitchen I can set in the back window. They’re both motion-activated. My alarm system isn’t the best—clearly, since you managed to break in without setting it off—but I can probably get someone out here in the morning to install a better one. If I haven’t used upallmy favors with McCabe and his team.”
She still doesn’t look convinced.
“It’s been almost forty-eight hours since that fucker broke into your house. You were here last night. No one came for you then. No one’s coming for you now.”
She shakes her head. “You can’t know that. There was blood all over the dock. Someone would have called the police. And when Parker didn’t check in… How long do you think it would take for the owners of the marina to give up your name? Your address?”
“You ran out of the hospital before McCabe showed up, baby. His team found the body. Took care of your house—as best they could. There’s no evidence Parker was ever there. Whoever sent him won’t have any reason to talk to the harbor master. And that’s assuming McCabe didn’t pay the woman off to stay quiet. I wouldn’t put it past him. You’re safe here.We’resafe here.”
A single tear tumbles down her cheek. The tension leaves her shoulders and her eyelids start to droop. “I’m not safe anywhere. Not for long.”
“You are for tonight. I’m going to set up the other camera. Then you can tell me the rest.” I pull back the blankets, and it’s a testament to how exhausted she is that she lies down almost immediately.
