Guns and the Girl Next Door. HelenKay DimonЧитать онлайн книгу.
there.”
Her hand shook as she pressed it to her forehead.
“What are you doing?”
“Setting the ground rules.”
The skin at corners of her eyes wrinkled. “What?”
“This is my house.”
She shook her head and then grabbed it. “I don’t understand,” she said in a voice rough with what sounded like pain.
He didn’t know what to believe. Hard to trust a woman who used his family room as a parking lot.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he mumbled.
Her gaze shot to the gun and then back at his face. “Who are you?”
The look of wild-eyed panic had him thinking she might actually not know, but he wasn’t taking the chance. “We’re going to focus on my questions first. What are you doing here?”
“I…” Turning her head with a careful slowness that suggested an injury, she looked around the inside of the car. She glanced up and over the wheel as if noticing for the first time the damage around her. “Did I crash?”
The stuttering tone and dropped jaw were nice touches. Added to the sham.
Holden didn’t buy any of it. “Uh, yeah. That’s one way of putting it.”
“Where am I?”
“In the middle of my family room. Now, tell me your name.”
“Mia Landers.” She shifted her upper body and winced.
His elbows locked. “Stay right there.”
“I need to get up.”
“Are you hurt, Mia?”
She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.”
Not exactly the answer he expected. “It’s a simple question. Yes or no?”
“Not really.”
He gave her two options and she picked a third. Interesting. “What does that mean?”
“I’m kind of numb.”
Shock. Assassin or bad driver, he still wasn’t sure but he did know she probably needed medical attention. “Open the door nice and slow.”
She stared down at her lap. “I can’t…”
From the glassy stare it looked as if his unwanted guest was losing it and fast. He stepped closer and followed her gaze to her legs. Minimal blood and room to move around under the dash, as far as he could tell. Just in case the stunned unblinking stare was a ruse, he didn’t let up.
“Let’s get out now.” He slipped his hand under the handle and opened the door for her. When she tried to get out without taking off her seat belt, he reached in and did the deed for her. “Here you go.”
Hands shaking, hair hanging in front of her eyes, she turned to the side and got one foot out of the car. On her first attempt to get up her knees buckled and her butt hit the leather seat hard.
Taking a long look, visually searching every part of her he could see for weapons, Holden gave in and tucked his gun in the small of his back. As gently as possible, he slid one arm between her back and the seat and tugged her out of the car, doing a subtle pat down in the process. A person couldn’t be too safe in a situation like this.
Her legs wobbled and every inch of her trembled, but she managed to stumble to her feet with him for support. “Oh, man.”
“You okay?” he asked when he had her on her feet, standing near what once was his front door.
“I think so. My head hurts but not too bad.” She wiped an unsteady hand through her hair. Her fingers snagged on leaves and a few pieces of cubed glass. “How did I get here?”
“I was wondering that same thing.” He guided her to his couch that was just about the only piece of nearby furniture to survive the crash, and only half of that was usable.
He also took a second to size up his opponent. Late twenties, five-seven or so, slim with an innocent round face that easily could be telling a lie or two.
She probably needed a glass of water and an ambulance, but he wasn’t ready to offer either yet. No one wandered around these dense woods at night. Beautiful blondes with bright green eyes rarely came out this way unless he invited them, and that didn’t happen all that frequently either. He used hotels in D.C. for that sort of thing, preferring to keep his private life at home very private.
“Tell me why you were out here,” he said.
“Where?”
“On my property.” Except for a historic estate about ten miles away, he was the only one out there.
Two miles of wooded land separated him from the main road. He used to think that was enough space. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“I was…” Her eyes grew huge as her mouth fell flat. “Oh, my God.”
“What?”
“I have to—”
She tried to stand up, but he anchored her next to him on the cushions. “Whoa.”
“You don’t understand.” Her gaze darted around the room. Her hands were in constant motion as if the energy inside her had sparked to life and wanted to get moving.
He soothed a hand over her shoulder. “Explain it to me.”
“I have to call the police.”
“Why?”
“The accident.”
The last thing he wanted was a squad of police cars swarming all over his property. If he had to, then yes, but he wanted to put it off until he understood exactly who Mia was and why she was in his house.
“Did you fall asleep at the wheel?”
“No.”
She sounded as if she had her full memory back now. “Was anyone in the car with you?”
She patted the pockets of her ripped and smudged pants. “It’s here somewhere.”
Watching her move, he still couldn’t tell what was happening. “What are you looking for?”
“My cell. I have to call the police and my office.”
“Mia, listen to me—”
“Now I remember. I dropped it.”
He put one of his hands over hers. “Doesn’t matter.”
She stopped shifting and babbling and stared up at him. “Wait, what did you say?”
He could barely follow her zigzagging conversation. “Tell me what happened out there.”
She swallowed hard enough for him to see her throat move. “I hit someone.”
That’s what he feared. He had not one but two victims running around his property. “So, there was a car accident?”
She toed the pile of what used to be his coffee table and now barely qualified as kindling. “Look around you.”
“I meant before you came sailing through the window.”
“Not exactly.”
“But you’re saying there’s a person out there who needs help.” He had some training, the usual military survival stuff but not much more. If the injuries were serious, he’d need help.
“No.” Her voice sounded far away, almost dreamy.
“Mia?”
“He’s dead.” Her eyes focused, looking clear for the first time. “I killed him.”
Holden