He closed his eyes, and the scene instantly returned. In his mind, he could see the events leading up to the explosion as clearly as if he were watching a movie on the big screen…
The two of them walking down the sidewalk after one of the most cathartic conversations he’d had with anyone in a long, damn time. Cera bringing up the weather and the predicted winter storm.
Ivan could picture the way she looked back at him when he’d shot her a wink and a smartass remark. Something about it never being too early for snow in Colorado. Best of all, he could still see that heart stopping smile Cera had rewarded him with after the fact.
And that’s when it had happened.
One second, he was thinking about how he couldn’t wait to ask her out on a real date once her stalker was stopped. The next, a massive wave of heat and fire had sent his world into a disorienting tailspin.
Though he fought against it, Ivan saw Cera lying on the sidewalk in the bomb’s aftermath. She’d been face-down and unmoving. So still he’d thought she was dead.
Ivan’s eyes flew open, and he sucked in a breath. Using the bottle in his hand as a means to regain control, he lifted it to his lips and pulled another long, slow draw.
The amber liquid was cool on his tight throat but did little to soothe the nerves churning in his gut.
She could’ve died today. She could’ve died in that explosion, and there wasn’t a fucking thing you could do to stop it.
His hand shook from the realization of how close he’d come to losing her. A woman he barely knew, but whose inner strength and will to survive inspired even a man like him.
A man born to protect the innocent. A soldier familiar with death and destruction. A trained killer who’d come face-to-face with the worst this world had to offer, as well as with his own demise.
Yes, Ivan was all those things and more. And yet, a woman he barely knew already had the power to drop him to his knees. The only question remaining was…
What the hell are you going to do about it?
The minutes continued to pass as he stood staring out that damn window trying to answer that very question. After what felt like hours, he was still standing there when Cera’s sweet, almost hesitant voice reached him from behind.
“Do you…want me to leave?”
What?
Ivan turned around slowly to face her. What he wanted to say—what heshould haveresponded with—was something along the lines of…
Sweetheart, leaving is very last thing I want you to do.
Instead, he found himself staring back at her with a deep frown and barking out a gruff, “Why the hell would I want you to leave?”
Smooth, jackass. Really fucking smooth.
“I just thought…” A small shrug of one shoulder. “I mean, after what happened, I wasn’t sure you’d still want to…help.”
His gaze landed on the butterflied cut on her forehead, the memory of the moment he’d thought she was dead rushing back to the surface.
Just thinking about how close she’d been to dying had his fist squeezing the bottle in his hand with such force Ivan was surprised the damn thing didn’t shatter.
She’s okay, remember? That’s what the doctor said. Other than that fucking cut on her forehead, Cera really is okay.
It helped that she looked okay. Better than, actually.
Dressed in a pair of black leggings that made his dick stand up and take notice, she’d replaced her ruined top with a hot-pink hoodie. On her feet were what he’d hoped would be soft, comfy socks, and her face had been washed free of makeup, dirt, and blood.
And she was still standing there, hair damp from her recent shower, staring back at him from behind those fucking walls.
He’d thought their earlier conversations—both here and at the diner—had all but demolished the damn things. Or at least damaged them enough to get the process going. But here they were, standing in the same room as before, and she was looking back at him as if she expected him to toss her back out onto the streets.
It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m going to set a few things straight right this fucking minute.
Because he couldn’t bear to let another minute pass with her questioning his resolve to see this thing through to the end. And the only way he could think of to really get his message across was to…