Shatter (29 page)

She lowered her head, but Mitch took her face in both hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

He kissed her lips and ran a hand over her hair before gripping her waist and lifting her. He settled her on the bed beside him. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

She curled onto her side and murmured, “Like I could.”

His grin hit her dead center in the chest. A flash of those beautiful teeth. Light in his eyes. Color electrifying his skin. He looked so refreshed, so alive. So real. And in that instant she realized how stiff and plastic he’d appeared in the photos in the papers and magazines and interviews. Remembered his words to her before they’d made love. And her heart burst open.

He stood, braced his hands on the bed, and lowered himself in a push-up to kiss the tear tracks from one cheek. Then kissed her lips so sweetly, the tears almost started up again.

She watched him walk to the door with a small smile lifting her lips. “Still have the best ass, Foster.”

He paused in the doorway, twisted to look at her, and the way the light drifted over him showed off every muscle in that sleek body. He smiled. Slow, hot, with so much love in his eyes Halina’s heart swelled painfully.

He disappeared through the door and Halina was left wondering . . . could they make this work? There was so much for them to overcome. But he loved her. She believed that. And she loved him. So very much. If he could forgive her, they had a chance. The question was if.

Mitch moved through the room quietly, laying a blanket over her. Then climbed behind her on the bed and curved his naked body to hers. He pulled her into his arms, pressed his face to the back of her neck, and kissed her.

Halina’s heart compressed. She squeezed her eyes closed. His hand slid gently down her arm, scraping his nails lightly back up. His lips dropped kisses along her neck, then her shoulder. He let out a long sigh, threaded their fingers, and brought her hand up to his for a series of kisses.

She let herself fall back into him, his body warm and strong behind her. Let herself drift into the pleasure buzzing through her body. Let her mind float and play with images as they came. Visualized the apartment in that old Victorian in DC and the space beneath the sink. Remembered the panic as she’d jammed the box into the dark hole.

Tension built in her chest. In her limbs. She squirmed against the growing restriction, but found herself as frozen as if she were stuck in concrete. Panic crawled over her skin and tightened her chest, making it hard to breathe. She tried to pull in air, tried to call out, yell for help, but could only wheeze out a thin throaty whine.

Breathe
. The thought caressed her mind.
Direct your focus
.

Halina slowed her spinning brain, and concentrated on the images coming into view—transparent layers atop each other, like two movies playing together on the same screen.

The screens slowly separated. Color softly filled each side. For Halina that told her which was the positive future, which was the negative. She watched the positive screen first, chest less constricted with a new sensation of control. There, Mitch was in a comfortable-looking room of a house Halina didn’t recognize with the team gathered around. The space was opulent with rich finishes, fine furniture, and windows looking out over a river. Everyone was spread out through the room, much the way they’d been tonight at Alyssa’s, files and papers spread out before them, the team skimming the contents and talking. The atmosphere was serious, but hopeful.

Those images started to fade before Halina had a chance to really study them for more clues. But even before this image fully disappeared, another showed up, then another, and another, in quick succession, like a slide show. These images seemed to be from even further into the future and showed the other members of the team and the kids. In the short clips everyone looked happy and healthy. Then Mitch appeared, with another stunning woman, at another private party. Nothing had changed from Halina’s prior vision except the woman’s identity, but no one Halina had seen him with in the past. Mitch still knew everyone, dressed to the nines, and took the woman’s invitation to the bedroom with pleasure.

Just the thought of moving her attention to the other outcome started the turbulent swirl of terror. Her throat ached with the need to call out for help. Her limbs burned from straining against their restrictions.

The reassurance gave her the strength to redirect her attention to the other side. Her vision filled with the sight of Mitch, handcuffed, blood covering his face. Her whole body reacted, but with the cement holding her in place, she only jerked against the restraint. He stood with his shoulder against a cinder block wall, his hair falling across one eye and an
I’ll-kill-youthe-second-I-get-the-chance
look beaming from the other. A dark figure, similar to the figures from the previous vision, stepped in and slammed Mitch across the face.

In slow motion, Halina watched his head jerk sideways. Watched pain rip across his handsome features. Watched blood spill from his mouth. Watched him stumble and drop to one knee. She tried again to scream. Again, her mouth served as nothing more than an empty cavern.

The dark figure closed in on Mitch while he was still down. The shadow pulled a weapon from his jacket, pressed it against Mitch’s head.

Halina thrashed against the muck holding her down, sucking at her limbs. Forced her voice from her lungs. “No!”

“Halina!” Her body shook hard. “Halina, wake up. Come out of it.” Another hard shake. Pain shot through her jaw. “Halina!”

The explosion of a gunshot burst inside her head. She sucked air as she broke the surface of reality, a sheet of glass shattering in a million shiny shards. Glittering so bright, they blinded her. Halina cringed against the light.

“Jesus Christ.” The rasp sounded in her ear, but came from far away. She had the sensation of someone’s arms around her but not holding tight enough, and she was sure she’d simply slip through the embrace. “Hali, shh, you’re all right.”

Within ten seconds, the vision had cleared and Halina was enveloped in Mitch’s arms, his warm body infusing her cold flesh. A headache double the size of her head exploded through her brain.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, pulling the blanket around her shoulders with one hand, stroking her hair with the other. “You’re safe. You’re safe. I’m here. It’s over.”

Halina shivered uncontrollably. She had no strength to cling to Mitch the way she wanted to as the violence against him played over and over in her memory. She curled into his protective embrace, fighting to think past the pain.

“You . . . get the papers,” she said, her teeth chattering, chest burning. “Everyone . . . is safe. You . . . you . . .” She hiccupped in agony as she thought of him with the other woman. She’d hoped this vision would be different. That
she
would have been the woman he was with in his positive future. But this was just another of the same. Mitch dying in a white shirt. Or Mitch living happily without Halina.

“I what, baby?” he murmured.

“You have another woman . . . a different woman . . .”

“Halina,” he crooned. “That’s not—”

“Or you die. Beaten . . .” She had to draw air to go on. “Then sh-shot . . . in the head. Because you were trying to h-help me.”

Mitch took her face in his hands and tipped her gaze up to his. “Halina, that’s not reality.”

“It’s m-my reality. Nothing’s changed. Every time you die, it’s b-because of me.” She pulled out of his hold and curled into a ball, huddling into the blanket. “Your death is always m-my fault.”

 

M
itch slowly shifted out from under Halina’s deliciously warm, soft body where she slept cradled between his legs, her cheek to his belly. When she laid her head on the bed without even fluttering her lashes, he paused to stare down at her. He stroked the hair away from her cheek and she licked her lips in sleep and sighed.

He was relieved she could at least find peace in sleep. It seemed to be the only time she was at peace. And with the vision she’d had—correction, the visions she’d been having for days, not to mention the months before she’d left him—it was no wonder. If Mitch had to watch Halina either enjoy other men or take a bullet to the head in visions he believed would eventually come true, he’d have gone insane by now.

But each moment of pure rightness with Halina, like this one, gave him the determination to hold on to the belief that they would make this work. They had to. He’d move heaven and earth to keep her, which was good, because he was anticipating that’s exactly what he’d have to do.

So he’d better damn well get started. Before she woke and that wicked determination of hers took over. Keeping her with him after that vision was going to be an arm wrestle.

Mitch reached down and pulled his phone from the pocket of his pants. He took a quick photo of Halina and pulled on the still-damp khakis, wondering where Alyssa would have put the clothes she’d had one of the guys pick up for him.

He opened the bedroom door quietly, watching Halina for any signs of waking, and almost tripped over the pile of neatly folded clothes in the hallway at his feet. He grinned. “Godsend, that girl.”

He’d realized this sometime around their fifth birthday. Alyssa had taken the battery out of his brand-new remote control airplane after he’d slammed it into their neighbor Jimmy’s head at the party. That’s when he knew God had made her his twin for some ulterior motive. Not until he’d reached his teens did he realize that motive had to do with keeping him alive, functioning, sane, and out of jail.

He glanced down the hall, but it was empty. The house still quiet, but not as cold as it had been earlier. He dressed in the bathroom, and thought he was prepared for the devastation when he turned the corner into the living room—after all, he’d lived through it. Barely. But the sight still hit him hard, and his jaw tightened as he stared at the disarray.

They’d done a decent job getting the room back in order, but dust glittering with glass slivers clung to every surface. Sheets of plywood blocked the serene view, reminding Mitch of the extremity of their situation. He glanced at the kitchen island as he passed and the bullet holes that could have so easily ended his life. Kat’s life. Mateo’s life. And his stomach iced over.

Mitch paused at the front door and glanced through the sidelight. Nelson stood on the porch leaning against a pillar. Mitch opened the door and Nelson glanced over his shoulder.

“Come in for second?” Mitch asked.

Nelson turned and entered the foyer. “What’s up?”

“Halina’s sleeping in the guest room. I’m going into the basement with everyone else. She’s been known to . . . slip away, if you know what I mean. And she’s pretty freaked at the moment.”

“Understandable,” Nelson said. “I’ll have Dillon move to her window and make sure we all watch for her.”

Mitch nodded. “Thanks. Do me a favor and take the keys out of all the cars, will you? She’s ex-DoD.”

One of Nelson’s brows rose. “Okay.”

Mitch locked the door behind Nelson and watched the other man jog toward the driveway where half a dozen cars were parked. He didn’t need to know she’d been a
scientist
at DoD, and Mitch wasn’t in the mood to explain all the details.

He opened the door to the lower stairway and was greeted by Kat’s giggles, the sound particularly sweet to his soul.

In the basement, the mood was subdued—all except for Kat. The kid was amazingly resilient.

“Look, Uncle Mitch,” she called as if this was just like any other day, “look what Dex can do.”

Everyone was still there, scattered across the space much as they’d been upstairs. Alyssa lay curled on her side, head on Teague’s thigh, eyes closed. Brady lay beside her, head at her breast, barely visible above a blanket. They’d never looked more tightly bonded—and all that after the worst incident of their lives.

Teague glanced up at Mitch’s arrival, then gazed back down at his wife and child, gently twirling a strand of Alyssa’s hair around his finger. The three of them were a picture of comfort, peace, fulfillment, purpose.

I need that
.

After making love to Halina again, his want had turned into a fierce, overwhelming need that hit him so hard, it stunned him for a moment. So . . . foreign, yet, when he imagined the scenario with Halina, so . . . right. Still, seven years and a shattered heart later, still so . . .
right
.

He refocused on the others. Cash sat on the other side of the sofa, feet kicked up on the ottoman, sketching some crazy-ass formulas in a notepad. Jessica was curled into Quaid’s side in the middle section. Kai, Keira, and Luke sat around a table covered with paper and computers. At the center, the swearing jar overflowed with cash. On a side table, chips, vegetables, nuts, and dips covered the surface. Beneath, a red and white Igloo cooler surely contained half a dozen different drinks.

With the mess upstairs, this would be their living space for a while. Luckily, the bedrooms hadn’t been damaged, and half of the team had other places to sleep.

“Dance, Dexy,” Kat said, holding up some kind of treat in her hand. Dex eased up on his hind legs, following Kat as she popped around in a circle giggling at Dex’s accomplishment, then gave him the treat.

Mateo sat on the floor nearby, his cherub face compressed into a comically stoic expression, those deep brown eyes intensely concentrating on Dex. Mitch wandered toward him and crouched beside the boy, but spoke to Kat.

“Nice, Kat. What are you feeding him?”

“A treat.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Mitch looked at Teague.

“The guys brought in dogs and set up a wider perimeter,” Teague said. “One of them had treats he carries in his truck for his nonworking dog. Don’t worry, Kat’s not peeling grapes for him. Yet.”

Alyssa laughed softly. She looked more tired than usual and concern nagged at Mitch, but he knew better than to say anything. “I sure hope Halina will let Dex sleep in Kat’s bed.”

“Amen,” Teague muttered, then glanced at Mitch. “Is Halina sleeping?”

Quaid tipped his head and looked over his shoulder at Mitch. He didn’t need to ask the question Mitch knew he wanted the answer to. Knew everyone wanted an answer to.

“For God’s sake,” Kai said, dropping a stack of paper and standing. “Just ask him, Quaid. It’s not like we gave you and Jessica any privacy.”

“And I remember,” Luke muttered with a glance at Keira, “he wasn’t particularly
sensitive
when it came to us, either.”

Kai sauntered to the snack table and tossed a handful of cashews into his mouth. “So how’d it go, golden boy? Did you manage to keep from scrambling her brain with too many—”

“Kai Joseph Ryder.” Alyssa’s stern reprimand cut him off.

Kai stopped chewing and froze with his hand in the cashews. After half a second, he looked up and over at Alyssa. “Ransom started it.”

She let out a breath and dropped her head back to Teague’s thigh. “God, you’re exhausting.” She rolled her head toward Teague. “He’s like a third child.”

Mitch burst out laughing, along with everyone else. Lord, he felt good. Loose and relaxed and energetic and hopeful. And it wasn’t just because of the sex. It was because of the
who
and the
how
. And—he hoped—because of the meaning behind the act.

“We’ve been talking,” Kai said.

Mitch winced and took a survey of the faces in the room. “That cannot be good news for me.”

“Why don’t you get Young to grab the documents in your old place?” Kai asked. “He’s already in DC, has more flexibility on when he could go in to get them. It will save us time. If he grabs them before we get there, he can look through them and see what’s what.”

Mitch hadn’t thought of that. It seemed like a good idea on the surface, yet something held him back.

“What?” Kai asked. “Do you trust him or not?”

Mitch hesitated, then shrugged. “Mostly.”

“I could flash there,” Quaid started, then glanced at Jessica. When she nodded, he continued, “and meet Young. Go in for the papers with him. Stick to him until you get there.”

Now Mitch nodded. “I’m better with that.”

“Which works great,” Teague said, “because we’ve all decided to come with you to DC anyway. So we can all meet up with Quaid and Young at the same time.”

Mitch turned a frown on his brother-in-law. “Your wife had a baby a little over a week ago, numb nuts.”

“And she deserves some peace and quiet with said baby,” Teague countered. “Getting out of here will give a crew time to repair the windows and clean up the glass without us underfoot. We’re all too wiped out to handle that. Plus, I’d like to have Alyssa and the kids somewhere . . . bunker-like . . . if you know what I mean.”

Mitch totally knew what Teague meant. His mouth kicked up into a smirk as he met his twin’s gaze and raised his brows. “What, no argument?”

She smiled and sat up, holding Brady over her shoulder and leaning into Teague. “Guess I’m getting used to your buddies’ five-star bunkers.”

More like she realized her children weren’t safe in their own home anymore. Guilt pinched Mitch’s conscience. He pulled out his phone. “Guess I need to call the pilot, tell him to gas up for the flight.”

One quick phone call was all it took. He disconnected and said, “Two hours and we’re good to go.”

Alyssa groaned and rolled her head toward Teague. “Two hours to pack up three kids and nine adults?”

He kissed her forehead. “You worry about nothing, baby. I’ve got it.”

“What’s up with Dex’s collar?” Kai asked, moving to the sofa with a laptop. “Why’d she need to get it off him?”

“Hopefully this is the beginning of the end.” Mitch strode to a desk in the corner. “Anyone got scissors, a knife . . . ?”

“There’s a butt-load of glass shards upstairs,” Kai said with a tired grin. “But try this.” He pulled a switchblade from his pocket and held it out.

Mitch took the knife and started in on the nylon threads. His mind tried to stray toward Halina. Toward all she’d said. All she hadn’t said. All it could mean. To making love to her. To the bond they’d developed between the time he’d walked into that room and the time he’d walked out. But no one in the room would let him think, everyone demanding to know what he was doing and why.

“Come on, Foster,” Kai nagged after the second round of bitching had circled through the room.

The point of the knife slipped off the tight stitching and dug into Mitch’s thumb. “Jesus eff-ing Christ,” he muttered and shoved the wound into his mouth, griping around his finger, “can’t you see I’m working here?”

After a few more rips, he worked the collar open enough to get the bulk of the blade between the heavy folds. He separated the material to uncover three micro-disks preserved in tiny ziplock pouches.

Kai sat forward. “Now,
that
looks promising.”

Mitch handed the chips to Kai and finished opening the collar to make sure it was empty. He explained his phone call from Owen and his confrontation with Halina.

“She believes she’s the cause of my death in the visions,” Mitch said. “And she’s devastated at the harm she’s brought here, which is my fault. She told me she shouldn’t come.”

Kai slid one of the disks into a slot on his computer and everyone gathered around to watch, including a sleepy Alyssa holding a sated Brady. Electricity seemed to crackle, anticipation seemed to hum. Mitch didn’t know if that was from all the paranormal power buzzing around him or his imagination. But nor did he care as he texted Owen,
Got the footage. Where should we look?

Owen replied,
You work fast.
And added dates and time stamps to the text. Mitch read the first off; Kai fast-forwarded to the coordinates and hit play.

For the next half hour, they all watched in stunned silence as Halina suffered verbal and physical abuse from Schaeffer by day, then moved through the various labs, photographing files by night. Mitch’s hatred for Schaeffer had grown to mammoth proportions. His mission to grind him into dust an absolute in his soul.

“I’ve seen enough.” His voice rasped through a throat thick with sickness and guilt. He held out another disk to Kai. “Look at this one.”

Kai popped it into the computer and maneuvered to the drive. “If that was the surveillance, what’s this?”

“Not sure,” Mitch muttered, and he was more than a little apprehensive to find out. “I’m guessing documents.”

Hoping documents. Hoping this was going to be what they needed to do exactly what Owen had promised—tie a bow around Schaeffer’s neck and walk him into the AG’s office. Only Mitch’s idea of a bow would be chain and it would be tight enough to cut off air supply.

Kai pulled up the directory. “Bingo.”

Kai opened the first five files and clicked through. Mitch held his breath as he scanned the pages, but released it, frustrated when he found them filled with chemical formulas, words as long as his arm that looked more like Greek than English, and handwriting as bad as his own.

Kai whistled softly through his teeth. “This looks like a job for the brains in the room.”

“I’ll take that one,” Cash said from where he stood behind them. “I recognize a few of those formulas.”