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"And what would they do?" she asked bitterly. "If they tried to fight you, you'd decimate them. If they got lucky and hurt you, I'd never forget it. It's a no-win situation, isn't it, Nik?"
For a second, tears glittered in her eyes before she blinked them back. She turned her gaze from him for a second, then returned it with renewed strength. She had to be one of the strongest women he had ever laid eyes on. Damn her. She made him remember the dreams he was ordered to throw away so long ago. That 79
dream of finding peace amid war, safety in a world where safety was a liability rather than an ethereal dream.
"It's a no-win situation," he finally agreed. "What you do with it is what makes the difference, baby. When I'm gone, just forget. Otherwise, you'll only hurt yourself." He knew inside he had begun the painful process though, watching the hurt that was building in her eyes. A hurt he wanted nothing more than to heal before he did exactly as she had told him to do. He was riding out of town, moving right out of her life. Unlike her, he wouldn't have his anger to hold onto. She'd done nothing to deserve his anger, therefore there was no shield between his hunger and her memory. Her tongue slid over her lips again, tempting him to taste, to lose himself to the hunger rather than running away from it.
"Deirdre was wrong," she finally whispered as he forced himself to keep a distance between them.
"About what?" Fists clenched at his sides, his entire body so tight he wondered why he hadn't cracked.
"Saying good-bye won't help me forget. A woman doesn't forget her first hunger. Ever."
He moved to her. Just in time.
As he reached her there was a flash of light high to his side, a distinctive splintering of light where there should have been none as the fading sun struck against glass. The splintering of the tree bark as Nik jerked Mikayla to him and threw them both to the ground as the sharp retort of a sniper's rifle cracked through the air.
"Move!" Nik didn't give Mikayla a chance to move on her own despite the order. Hooking his arm around her waist, he jerked her from the ground as the next bullet struck the ground at the exact spot her head had been and he pulled her around the tree, in front of the Jeep, then raced for the house.
Another round hit the cement of the sidewalk just ahead of him as he threw them both into the house, adrenaline and sudden racing terror streaking through him as Mikayla collapsed against the wall, a streak of red against her face, on her pretty, creamy blouse.
"Mikayla." Her name was a harsh, broken sound as he jerked the edges of her blouse apart, searching for a wound. There was none there. Nothing. Just blood. Blood on her face, her head.
"Ah, God. Mikayla. Mikayla." She was staring up at him in horror, her eyes wide, shocked, the black nearly filling the amethyst color as her hand lifted to her head, the golden color stained.
His hands were shaking. Sweet Lord. Ah, God. She had to be okay.
"Wood." Her voice was strangled. "I think it hit me." She touched her head again, her fingertips coming back marred red as she stared at them. They began shaking like a leaf at an oncoming storm. She lifted her gaze to him once more.
"Please," she whispered. "Please don't let them kill me, Nik. Please." A tear fell. A single drop of fear and pain that slid slowly down her too-white face to mix with the smear of blood on her cheek.
Fear raked across his soul. Only once in his life had he ever known anything approaching the sheer agony, the horror, that filled him now. 80
He had no weapon but the small snub-nosed pistol secured just inside the top of his boot. It was no match for a sniper. And there was blood on his woman. His woman.
He wasn't going anywhere. Not until he found who Mikayla saw that day, and who sudd
enly wanted her dead.
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Chapter 8
Nik escaped just after midnight, Mikayla's father's vow that he wasn't leaving his daughter alone giving Nik the chance he needed to make a little visit. Only one person had reason to want to silence Mikayla, and that was Maddix himself. He knew Nik was leaving the job unfinished. Just as he knew that Mikayla wouldn't stop trying to prove he had killed Eddie Foreman.
If it wasn't Maddix, then someone close to him. Someone who feared she would prove Maddix guilty. Or was it someone trying to make it appear as though Maddix had grown tired of her accusations?
The possibilities were becoming endless, and it was time to begin eliminating them.
Fury was cold and silent inside Nik. A murderous rage that he had only felt once in his life, burning in his soul. God help the shooter when Nik got his hands on him, and he would find him. And he'd kill him. Slowly.
The sight of Mikayla's blood would live in Nik's nightmares.
The police had been very little help, and that had only served to piss him off further. She had on more than one occasion called the chief of police a liar when he'd given Maddix an alibi. That had placed her in a very tenuous position now that she needed help from that same police force.
After Nik slipped into Maddix's gated community, it didn't take long to slide into his backyard and make his way to the glass patio doors that led to Maddix's study. The chief of police's car was sitting at the front of the house, which meant Maddix had been warned about the shooting, as Nik had known he would be. Hagerstown was a fairly large city, but some things just got around fast.
"Goddamn, Daniel! What the hell are your men trying to prove?" Maddix's voice rose in fury. "Son of a fucking bitch, get them under control!" Maddix's tone suggested panic. His eyes were filled with confused astonishment, his expression furious.
