Chapter 22
M ila sipped her second cup of tea. Her nerves needed the calming benefits of chamomile.
She sat next to Dana on the couch. The empty pizza box lay on the coffee table.
An hour ago, Dana had asked if she’d watched the latest season of a popular reality show.
Mila had shrunk a little inside. How did she tell her new friend that she was so out of the loop when it came to what women her age found exciting and popular?
She and her family had often watched movies together, or she and Igor would fight over who got to pick a show. Living with Irinia, that hadn’t been an option. She’d been kept in the barn. Books, board games, and schoolwork were her only companions outside of training.
Of course, once she’d moved to the US, she’d been exposed to television again, but other than the odd movie, she’d never watched much, especially not reality TV. Fluff, fun, and lightheartedness just weren’t part of who she was.
They’d settled on an old rom-com flick and both laughed at the various ways the protagonist tried to drive a man away as research for her magazine article.
Her phone vibrated on her lap. She jumped, nearly spilling her tea. A punch of fear hit her gut, her mind immediately assuming Irinia was calling. Dana faced her, her eyebrows hiked.
Mila looked at the screen and her belly flipped over. “It’s Ghost.”
Dana stared at her with wide, earnest eyes. “Go ahead and get that. I’ll pause it.”
“Thanks.” She swiped to answer and got to her feet, setting the mug on the coffee table. She made her way to the kitchen, her stomach a ball of nerves. But if Ghost was calling, he wasn’t dead. “Hello?”
“Hey.”
The smooth, easy cadence of his voice made her shoulders sink. Just like that, her worries vanished. Everything was OK. Had to be. “I’m so glad you called. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. What about you? Still oversharing with Dana?” Amusement laced his words.
She folded an arm across her middle. “I did no such thing,” she said teasingly. “Besides, there’re more important matters. What happened?”
“We’ll talk about it soon. I’ll be there to get you in ten minutes. That is... if you want to come home with me.”
Her heart beat in triple time. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else. As kind as Dana was, Mila didn’t want to intrude any longer, nor did she want to be by herself. Turns out the only thing she wanted was Ghost.
“I’d like that.” The admission came out with far too much weight. “At least for tonight.”
She wanted as much as Ghost would give her. Which, after tonight, might not be much at all. Especially if Hunter was taken care of and there was no reason for them to be glued to each other’s sides.
“I’ll be there soon.” He said goodbye and hung up.
Mila lowered the phone from her ear just as Dana entered the kitchen. “What did he say?”
She blew a breath through her lips. “He’ll be here to pick me up in ten minutes.” Then she gave Dana a sympathetic look. “He didn’t say anything else, but I’m sure Zain’s fine.”
Dana grinned. “He is. I just got a text saying he’d be here soon, too.”
“Oh good. I’d better grab my things. Thank you for having me.”
Her new friend pulled her into a hug. “Don’t mention it. I’m having a girls’ night next week. I’d love it if you could make it.”
Emotion squeezed her sinuses. In all likelihood, she wouldn’t be around next week. Her gut clenched. She had nowhere else she wanted to live. But even if she stayed in Seattle, unless she and Ghost were still seeing each other—god, could she even call it that?—she wouldn’t spend time with Dana.
If he broke things off with her, there was no way she could hang out with his friends.
“I’d like that,” she said noncommittally, pulling away. “I’d better get my bags.” She went upstairs to the guest room and scooped up her belongings.
She dropped her gaze to the pajamas she wore and paused. He’d invited her to his house, and considering the hour, he surely wanted her to stay the night. Still, she should probably change into the clothes she’d had on earlier...
Screw it.
She ensured the guest bathroom and bedroom were just as tidy as when she arrived before heading downstairs.
A knock at the door made her falter as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“I got it,” Dana sang, as she breezed by Mila and checked the peephole. She winked over her shoulder. “It’s for you-oo.”
Mila’s cheeks warmed.
Dana swung open the door, hand propped on her hip. “What are your intentions with my friend?” she demanded.
“’Scuse me?” Ghost’s less-than-amused voice reached Mila’s ears.
She quickly grabbed her coat from the hook and made her way to the door. Ghost’s intense gaze locked on her like a laser.
She gave him a sheepish smile as she fitted her arms through her sleeves. “Ignore her.”
Dana hooked her arm through Mila’s again. “You know I love you, Ghost, but if you let this one get away, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Ghost arched an eyebrow. Mila shrunk an inch and let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like an embarrassed wail. She squeezed Dana in a hug. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.” Dana pointed a stern finger at Ghost. “I mean it.”
He smirked. “Go to bed, Dana.”
“Can’t until Zain gets here. He wants me to wait up.”
Ghost shook his head and snagged Mila’s elbow, towing her outside. “Too much information, D. See you later.”
“Bye,” Dana called, before shutting the door.
The cold winter air rushed over Mila’s skin and she shuddered. After growing up in Russia, she really shouldn’t be chilled by such a mild winter.
Ghost’s arm belted around her waist, making the shudder move to her loins. “Looks like you and Dana hit it off.”
She dipped her chin. “We did. I think.”
“You think? She was more protective of you than I’ve seen Micha get with Ivy.” They reached his truck and he opened the passenger door. He took her bags from her shoulder and tossed them in the cab while she hopped in.
He shut her door and went around to the driver’s side. She let her gaze roam over him before the interior light clicked off. His chiseled jaw was wrapped in stubble, his hair disheveled, and his expression as serious as usual.
As unreadable as he was, any tension or anxiety left her body when he was present. It was as if she could finally relax—as if she didn’t have to be on guard anymore.
She’d never been protected. Not since she was a small child. Maybe that’s what she craved—why she wanted him around so badly.
He stuck the key in the ignition, and she covered his wrist with her hand. “Is Hunter dead?”
Slowly, he turned to her, his eyes as hard as stone. Lifting his fingers to her chin, he tethered her gaze to his. “He is.”
The confirmation didn’t make his voice waver, nor did it shake her. He tilted his head slightly. “I guess that means you’re free to do whatever you want. You don’t have to come with me.”
She swallowed, panic rising from her toes. “I want to.”
“Good,” he breathed. “Because I need you with me.”
Hope expanded in her chest. For the first time since she was a little girl, she was truly free. Yet she didn’t want to run. Didn’t want to return to Russia.
She wanted Ghost.
He trailed his knuckles over her cheek. “Stay with me awhile. Days, weeks, I don’t care.”
She bit her lip. They’d spent so much time together already, but if she stayed day in and day out, he might tire of her quickly. She wanted to be with him, though. For however long it lasted. “Okay. I’d like that.”
His mouth slid into a sideways grin. “I don’t know where this is going, Mila. All I know is I don’t want you to leave yet.”
Her belly flipped at the sound of that final word: yet .
She forced a smile. “Same.”
He chuckled. “My place it is.” Turning back to the wheel, he shifted into park and then backed out of Dana’s driveway.
Mila fought not to obsess over Ghost’s words. She wouldn’t get sugarcoated stories or false promises from him. He’d always be real and raw because that’s who he was, which was oddly comforting.
They drove down the quiet road leading to the interstate. The passing streetlamps caused a strobe-light effect in the vehicle. She almost missed the snowcapped pine trees and flurries in the Montana sky.
Who was she kidding? As screwed up as their first few days together had been, she’d always cherish their time at his cabin. Where just the two of them had existed.
Clearing her throat, she shoved all longing from her mind. “So what happened with Hunter?”
“He wasn’t hard to find. Fucking coward hid in his bunker.”
She raised her eyebrows. “How’d you get to him?”
Ghost had one hand wrapped around the wheel. His arm was relaxed and his jean-clad legs were stretched out. He looked so large, so impossibly dominant, that she wanted to climb onto his lap.
“Zain had a grenade.”
Her jaw dropped. “Huh?”
He jerked his attention to her face and smirked, then looked back at the road. “Yeah. Worked as planned.”
“Did you talk to Hunter?” She had so many questions. Among them, why did Zain carry grenades?
The assassin in her lit with intrigue. Her kills had been silent. Sneaky. Had never involved something as bold as a grenade.
“Not much to say. I made it clear he’d made the wrong move coming after me—and you. He didn’t even pretend he hadn’t done it.”
His jaw twitched. “Shot him in the head. There’s no chance in hell he survived that one.”
She reached for his free hand. “I’m glad it’s all over with.”
He laced his fingers with hers, and they rested their elbows on the console. “Me too, baby. Did you talk to Irinia?” He hit the blinker and took the next exit.
“Yes.” She combed her fingers through her hair, grateful she’d showered at Dana’s. “I suspect she’s pissed. I’m not sure if she’ll try to talk to me again, maybe try to persuade me to come back. But that door’s closed.”
He lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Good. I’m proud of you. If you need help keeping her away, just let me know.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”