woman’s mother, and who killed her? And why did my boss send me here, seemingly right after her murder? And how is this box connected?
If she’s telling the truth, my gut whispers.
“Mia, this is bigger than either you or I imagined,” I say, calmly and slowly. “Bigger than a dying wish, as important as I know that is to you.” I hold up a hand when I see anger flash in her eyes. “Listen. I’m pretty sure your mother was involved in something you have no ability to face on your own.” I grasp her thin arms in my hands and wait for her eyes to connect with mine. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but she may have been part of something very dangerous. You can’t do this alone.”
Her gray eyes question me, searching for answers. Or maybe for a new possibility that doesn’t cast a shadow on her mother’s memory. I watch her closely and see the moment she surrenders to what I’ve been saying. There’s understanding there. Acceptance as well.
I blow out a breath. Does she finally trust me?
I don’t get the chance to find out.
Mia jumps as the door behind me opens so hard it bounces off the wall. Instinctively, I turn, shielding her with my body from a tall, hulking man filling the doorway. Dressed head to toe in black, there’s a blank, dead look in his eyes. His bald head completes the menacing look. So does the bulge of the concealed weapon underneath his suit jacket.
Behind him, Mr. Lunden tries to get through. He fails and calls out to us instead. “Apologies for bothering you both, but this gentleman also possesses documentation for the—”
Big bald guy steps into the room and slams the door in the little guy’s face.
“What do you want?” I ask him and feel Mia’s fingernails sink into my arm. She’s moved to my side to see more clearly. I glance down at her. She’s frozen. Petrified.
“It’s him,” she whispers.
I know immediately who “him” is and push her behind me again. In less than a second, the man is crossing the small room and lunging for the box.
Mia comes alive. “No!” she screams and reaches for it. I try to hold on to her while also going for my ankle holster, but she’s too fast, slipping from my arms.
Black seizes the opportunity. He grabs the box and flips the table in my direction. I’m pushed into the wall by its weight, and shove it aside quickly, but not fast enough. Before I can secure my weapon, he has Mia, one arm hooked around her neck. He’s holding the box as well; it’s pinned to his side under his right arm. He can’t hold it because his hand is busy jamming a gun into Mia’s ribs.
“I’m leaving with her,” he mutters in a deep, low voice, those eyes still as blank as the dead. “I suggest you pretend this never happened.”
Mia surprises us both by stomping on his instep, the three-inch heel connecting well. He curses and she brings an elbow back into his ribs. His grip loosens enough for her to spin out of his grasp, and I lunge, bringing my hand down on his wrist, knocking the gun away, the metal box clanging to the floor.
The man is huge, but also quicker than he appears. He blocks my next blow, but not my third. I deliver a blow so brutal he reels back against the wall. Shaking his head, he reaches for the box again, and I let him. Fine by me. If he wants to hold onto its bulk, he’ll have to fight one-handed. If he’s that stupid, I’ll take the advantage.
Instead of fighting, he twists toward the door, apparently intent on leaving Mia behind. She growls and fucking jumps on his back, surprising us both once again. She claws at his face, then cries out in pain as he slams her backwards into a wall.
As he’s dealing with the flailing she-cat, I deliver a series of short jabs to his right shoulder, rendering it useless for a moment or two. Just long enough for me to drive my head into his abdomen, knocking the wind from him. He doubles over, leaving the back of his neck vulnerable. A sharp chop takes him down.
He’s face