by Nicole Helm
She hoped.
“What the hell,” Holden muttered from above, but he followed her down the ladder into the space below.
Willa felt a pang that there was no way to get Jim down here with them, but he’d eventually go off and find a bed with the other dogs. She had more dog houses than dogs scattered about the property, and even though Jim was mainly a house dog, he knew how to hang with the outside dogs.
She reached solid ground and hopped off the rope. A few seconds later, Holden followed suit.
“I closed the door behind me but couldn’t feel a lock.”
Willa shook her head. “It locks from down here.” She called it a cellar, but it was more of a safe house. There were provisions and tunnels out, if they needed out. Her parents had insisted on this when she’d informed them she wanted a place of her own. Willa had let them build in whatever security measures they’d wanted. She’d felt like she was humoring them.
Apparently not.
She brought the generator to life, flipped on the lights, then booted up the computer that would allow her to lock the door—and any other door on the property she wanted.
“What...is this?” Holden said, sounding somewhere between bewildered and awed.
Willa looked around the spacious room. It had most of the comforts of home, including actual walls over the metal casing. There was a little kitchenette on one side. Cots that weren’t too uncomfortable on the other. A door that led to a bathroom with all the necessary indoor plumbing. She could live down here for a year and never have to go aboveground.
A depressing thought.
“Where do these doors go?”
“Different places,” Willa said, suddenly feeling tired. Not with being shot at. She’d lived with her parents too long to be surprised or overly upset by that. She was tired of having to endure her parents’ lifestyle on her own.
Except... She studied Holden. She supposed she wasn’t alone, but this stranger wasn’t exactly the biggest comfort. Still, better than alone, she supposed.
With the computer humming, she armed the lock and engaged the video feed. Once her parents got her message, they’d be able to see the feed, too, and determine if they needed to come help. Or send help.
Oh, she really hoped they didn’t send help.
“Who are you?” Holden asked, that baffled tone back in his voice, but with none of the irritated exasperation he’d had over her ceramic bears.
“How many times are you going to ask me that?” she wondered, tapping a few more security measures to life.
“How many times are you going to answer that with a question of your own?”
She shrugged negligently. When she turned to face him, his expression was...new. Hard. Furious. He hadn’t had that look on his face even when she’d offered him a chained dinner earlier. Even when he’d tried to threaten her.
This look was devoid of all confusion. All kindness. It sent a cold shudder of fear down her spine, but she fought to keep her expression neutral, even if on the inside she was scared.
Never show an enemy your weakness, sweetheart. Always be on guard.
Her father’s voice smothered some of the fear. Because it just made her feel sad. It made her think of the things she hadn’t shouted at her father that she’d wanted to. I don’t want enemies! I don’t want to be on guard! I just want to be normal.
“You have to tell me,” Holden said, his voice like ice as he adjusted the grip of his gun in his hand. “I have to know what’s going on.”
The fear subsided more. It was hard to be scared when you were just exhausted. “Or what? You’re going to shoot me?”
* * *
HOLDEN LOOKED DOWN at the gun in his hand that she’d nodded to. It was pointed at the floor, but he didn’t blame her for the question. He was pissed and gripping the weapon a little too tightly.
He purposefully loosened his grasp, rolled his shoulders and tried to get a leash on his temper. It wasn’t her fault this had spiraled out of his control. He’d made some clear missteps here. From letting himself get injured to not leaving when he’d had the chance.
Taking out his frustration over that on her wouldn’t get them anywhere. The problem was he didn’t know what would. He’d never been in a situation like this—where the person he was trying to help had so many secrets he didn’t know how to even begin to untangle them.
And worse, she didn’t seem like the type of woman who had secrets. He kept forgetting himself because she seemed...
She’d hit him with a fire poker. She surrounded herself with animals—real and fake—at every turn. She lived in a crumbling old farmhouse and wore slouchy sweats and looked pretty as a picture.
Now they were in some high-tech cellar hiding out from the shooter. “How does a solitary farm girl who defends herself with a fire poker have all this hidden underground?”
“I’m not a girl,” she muttered. “I’m a grown woman. And none of that matters.”
“How exactly does it not matter when someone is trying to kill you?”
“You were the target,” she returned.
“I’m not the target. It’s impossible.” He’d been sent here to save her. He’d been sent here to take the hit man out.
She gave him a haughty look and crossed her arms over her chest. “The red sight light was on you.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but that was just reflex habit. Because she was right. He hadn’t seen the light. She had.
And she’d tackled him to the ground. The horrifying realization that she had saved his life slammed into him all at once. He’d been so focused on her, on the house, he hadn’t thought there might be someone outside. Someone targeting them. This odd little farm girl with a full-powered underground safe house had saved his life.
He felt oddly...weightless. Like he’d lost all tether to the ground. “You saved me.”
She blinked once, then twice, as if she hadn’t realized that either. “I...suppose I did.”
He didn’t believe he was the target, per se. He was here to stop a hit man, which meant he was likely now a target as well as the actual target. But how could she be one?
Yet she’d chained him to a bed. Then a door. She’d also fed him and bandaged him. When he’d broken into her house, she’d hit him with a fire poker. Then saved him from a gunshot wound.
She made no sense. This made no sense. But she’d saved his life. His life.
Maybe he had to be the one to give first. He raked a hand through his hair. Hell, he hated giving in to anything, but he’d be little more than brain-matter splatter if not for her.
Quite unfortunately, he owed her some answers. He blew out a breath, once more taking in the scene around him. He wasn’t even sure North Star had anything like this in all their various hideouts scattered around Wyoming, South Dakota and Montana.
Her computer tech wasn’t as fancy as Elsie’s, but it had a security camera, among other things. And apparently some kind of internet connection even underground.
Holden studied the split screen. There was a feed of the interior of the barn they’d sneaked into, and what he thought might be the exterior. On the dark exterior screen, Holden couldn’t make out anything, but she must have had infrared on the interior camera, because when a man crept into the barn, Holden could see him.
“Do you know him?” he asked. The resolution wasn’t very good, so his face wasn’t clear, but the general appearance would be something to go on if you knew someone well enough.
She squinted at the grainy man on the camera. “It’s hard to tell. I don’t think so.”
He couldn’t ignore the fact that she gave him answers on occasion. Probably more than he’d given her. And she saved your life.
“I work for a group.”
She turned away from the computer to study him. “A group?”
“A secret grou
p. I can’t tell you everything, but I can tell you I was sent to Evening to track a hit man.”
“So, he is after you.”
“No,” he replied, tamping down his frustration. Why was she so reluctant to believe she was the target when she had all this? “He doesn’t know I’m after him. He’s looking to kill someone.”
There was a flicker of something in her expression, and she looked away from him. “Why?” she asked, but her voice had changed. Guarded.
“I don’t know the whys. Or the whos. Or the hows. All I was given was the fact ammunition for the gun we know was sent to him was shipped here. It was my job to unearth whatever clues I could. That led me to you. You used the same PO box.”
“It was a coincidence.”
“I might have believed that if I weren’t standing in the middle of all this.” He swept out an arm to encompass the entire room. “This isn’t the kind of thing people have if there isn’t the potential they’ll be threatened at some point.”
“Do I really seem like the kind of person who’d be threatened?” she asked, lifting her chin.
“No, you don’t. But the circumstances undermine everything you seem, Willa.”
She didn’t say anything to that. She watched the man on the screen. There was no recognition in her gaze, and the line between her eyebrows pointed to a woman who was utterly baffled.
But she had all this. What could it mean? She seemed alone here, but that didn’t mean she was alone. There were times at North Star headquarters when only Betty and Elsie were around, two young women who had impressive skills but weren’t trained operatives. Could he have stumbled upon a similar group, with a woman who just wasn’t a field operative?
Or a woman who was connected to someone like him. A woman who could be a threat because of what she’d mean to someone else. “It’s not you. It’s someone you’re connected to.”
She whipped her head around to look at him, which was how he knew he hit the mark.
“What? Husband? Boyfriend?” He ignored the odd tight feeling in his chest at trying to imagine what kind of man would leave her here and unprotected.
She snorted. “Honestly.”
“A family member, then? Someone who could be gotten to through you. Or someone who pissed off the wrong guys. But why would anyone leave you behind, on your own?”
Her spine had stiffened, and her gaze was intent on the screen. But Holden didn’t think she really saw anything. She was just trying to keep her gaze off him and her feelings under wraps.
But he’d hit a sore spot, or she wouldn’t be ramrod straight and silent. Not Willa.
“I’d certainly have some resentment if I was left helpless on my own.”
“I’m not helpless, and I was hardly left alone. You have no idea how hard I had to work to be independent. To convince them I could...” She trailed off and closed her eyes in disgust.
She’d given away a lot more than she’d planned, that much was clear. “Them. Parents. Who are your parents, Willa?”
“Who’s your group, Holden?” she shot back.
He might have been frustrated to have questions answered with questions again, but she stood, anger sparking off her, and it left him speechless.
Her eyes flashed, she advanced on him, and if it hadn’t been for his excessive training, he might have actually retreated out of sheer surprise.
“I’m not the only one who can guess things. Who can use what you’ve said and haven’t said against you.” She poked him in the chest.
He raised a warning eyebrow, but her anger was clearly impeding her judgment completely. “This group of yours,” she said, disgust dripping off every word. “You set off to do good things, but under some kind of mask so you don’t have to follow laws.” She poked him again.
This time he grabbed her wrist. “Watch it.”
She wrenched her hand out of his grasp. “Oh, I’ll watch it.” She flung her arms in the air. “You’re so derisive of them leaving me alone, but you must not have anyone in your life. That’s it, isn’t it? You had no one in your life so you joined some vigilante group to feel fulfilled. Ignore laws, ignore rules and pretend to be Superman. Prance around feeling important because you risk your life you clearly don’t care all that much about. Well, you must not have anyone you love. Your parents must be dead and you must not have any siblings or grandparents or anyone you care about. Or maybe more important, no one who cares about you.”
It shouldn’t have hurt. Why should the truth, more or less, hurt? But he found himself wanting to rub his heart—not where she’d poked, but where it beat despite the ache inside. “Well, Willa, direct hit.”
Chapter Six
Holden betrayed no emotion on his face, and yet it felt like the entire space around them was filled with an aching, painful throb of hurt.
It was all her fault. She’d only been so angry he’d seen right through her. Angry that she’d betrayed her parents in a way. No one was ever supposed to know, and yet...
There was no way to hide it from Holden. Not when they were being shot at. She believed his story. Clearly there was a hit man. What didn’t add up to her way of thinking was why he’d shot at Holden first.
If the hit man was meant to kill her, it was punishment for her parents. A message or something. Yes, we know who your daughter is. Yes, we’ll kill anyone you’ve ever loved.
She fought off the shudder of fear. She was inside and safe. He was out there.
She had a strange man to deal with in here. One who wasn’t going to kill her. More than likely anyway.
“I mean, you got a few key things wrong,” Holden said flippantly, with a careless shrug.
He was a very good actor, and yet she found she didn’t believe the flippant or careless remarks. Maybe she couldn’t see evidence of it, but she could feel his hurt.
“The parents are dead, sure. By the time I was sixteen. I had quite a few brothers and sisters, though, but the funny thing about being an orphan is you don’t often get to keep them. When you’re sixteen, there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. Whether you care or not.”
The story broke her heart. She didn’t think he meant it to. She didn’t think he meant her to feel anything. But she couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry.”
He fixed her with a glare. “I don’t know why you’d be sorry.”
“Because I don’t know what it’s like to have brothers or sisters, but I can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose them and parents. To be left alone.”
“Oh, I wasn’t alone. I was ripe pickings for the gang in the neighborhood. Vigilante group? Lady, that ‘vigilante’ group saved my life. And you have no idea the good we’ve done in the world.”
He whirled away from her, shoving his hand through his hair. She could tell he didn’t know why he was telling her this. He was irritated with himself.
It was foolish to sit here and think poor boy when he was a man with a gun, with a mission. When, if she really was the target, his job was to save her.
You saved me, he’d said. Awed and, if she wasn’t totally mistaken, not quite comfortable with it.
She couldn’t say she was comfortable with it either. She hadn’t meant to. She’d just...acted.
“This is all irrelevant,” he said, turning back around to face her, and there was a blank coldness in his expression that said loud and clear this conversation was over and he was in charge now.
Willa had no desire to be in charge. Her plan was to wait for her parents to get her message and take care of their own mess.
But she couldn’t tell Holden that. He’d figured out way more on his own than her parents would be comfortable with. Then she’d lashed out like a petulant child.
And hit the mark.
He frowned at the security feed. The man was still poking around the barn. “Can you get a picture of him?” he demanded.
“We’ll decide if it’s enough. Take the picture.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed.
“Oh, you won’t be able to get service down...” She trailed off as he raised an eyebrow. Apparently he had some tech of his own. He turned away from her and spoke into the phone. “Els? I’m sending you a picture of someone I want you to try to get an ID on.”
Willa watched him talk to Els, on a phone that shouldn’t have worked underground. He was still tense, focused on the mission, but there was a comfort, an understanding there. He had people he could call and work side by side with.
She had nothing.
She looked back at the computer. It was silly to feel sad, to check her email quickly, hoping for some response from her parents.
Nothing.
There was a man who wanted her dead. She should be far more worried about that than her lack of human companionship. Especially since her parents hadn’t gotten her message. What if they were dealing with their own problems and her SOS never reached them?
Holden came to stand next to her, but not because he was going to talk to her or involve her. He tugged the keyboard away from her and began to tap away, listening to the woman on the phone.
She watched as he took the picture she’d taken and converted it into a file and sent it off to some unknown email address.
He made noises into the receiver, giving assent every so often. “Got it,” he said into the phone as he pushed the keyboard back to her. “Keep me updated.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket, then took a moment to study her.
Willa frowned at him, studying him right back. He stood awfully close, since he’d needed access to the computer she was sitting in front of. She could see the bandage she’d originally put on his head had bled through and needed changing. Still, even with the bloody head, the hours of unconsciousness earlier today, he seemed...completely strong and capable.