“What do you want?”
He turned sharply and stared at her. “I told you to shut up, bitch! Do you want to die like your dog?”
“Freddy! No!” She surged to her feet, ignoring him, his threats and his gun, and took one lunging step toward the bedroom door.
Her attacker caught her bodily around the waist, flung her backward onto the bed and leaned over her. “The disks. I want the disks. Where are they, Sarah?”
“Sarah…” she whispered. God, no one had called her that in more than sixteen years. “No, I’m not Sarah. I’m Oliv—”
He swung his gun hand so suddenly that she couldn’t anticipate the blow, and her position on the bed didn’t leave room to duck it, anyway. The side of the handgun connected with her jaw, and her head snapped hard to one side. He straddled her on the bed as stars exploded behind her eyes and lifted the gun again.
But then something—no, someone—tackled him from the side, the momentum carrying him off the bed to the floor. Olivia scrambled off the bed herself, though her head was spinning. Stumbling toward the doorway, she managed to stay upright, to get through it with only one thought on her mind.
Freddy.
He was still there on the floor, and he hadn’t moved. She staggered toward him, then fell half on top of him, hugging his big neck. “Oh, Freddy, come on, baby. Freddy? Freddy!”
The other two crashed into the living room, and she surged to her feet again, racing for the closet and the cell phone she’d left in her purse. The newcomer delivered a series of blows delivered so rapidly she couldn’t have counted them. The intruder’s head snapped back with each one, and she finally realized that her rescuer was none other than the man she had fallen asleep thinking about. Aaron Westhaven.
Even as she watched in stunned awe, he snapped the gun from the intruder’s grasp, removed and pocketed the clip, then ejected the bullet in the chamber. And he did it all in about a half second, while she stood there with the cell phone in her hand. He met her eyes and gave her a subtle shake of his head, telling her no.
Then the intruder ran for it, blowing past her and out through the front door. Aaron ran after him, but she caught hold of his forearm just as he reached the doorway.
“Aaron, please don’t!” she cried.
He stopped in his tracks in the doorway, turned to look at her. But she was focused on Freddy again. Releasing his arm, she returned to her beloved pet. She rubbed his giant head as tears spilled over her face. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! Freddy.”
She heard a motor roaring away, and then Aaron was kneeling beside her, his hands on her dog. “He’s breathing. Hey, you hear me? He’s okay.”
She sniffled and lifted her eyes to his. “He’s not dead?”
“No, he’s breathing. His heart’s beating strong. Feel.” He closed one of his hands around hers, enveloping it entirely, and then he pressed it to Freddy’s chest. She felt the powerful, steady throbbing of his massive heart against her palm.
Her mouth fell open, and her eyes closed. “He’s alive! Freddy, come on boy, wake up. Wake up for me now.” She bent and kissed his muzzle, then rubbed his face and ears, but he didn’t respond.
Aaron sighed and then bent closer, running his hands over the dog’s huge body in search of injuries, frowning the entire time as if puzzled. He laid his head on the dog’s side, listening. Then he sat upright again, nodding. “I think he’s fine. There’s not a mark on him. My best guess is that he’s probably been drugged.”
“Drugged? Dammit, it was the steak.”
He looked at her, brows raised.
“He was eating a piece of steak when I got home, and I couldn’t get it away from him.”
“So your burglar fed him some doped meat. Can’t blame him. You don’t break in to a house with a dog this size unless you take some precautions, right? I think he’ll be fine. Can you turn on a light?”
Sniffling, she got up and found a light switch.
Aaron was still looking at her dog, lifting his eyelids, looking at his eyes. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s starting to come around already. It would take a huge dose to do any lasting harm to a dog this size. Hell, he’s almost a pony.” He glanced up at her, and his face changed. “Damn,” he said, and he rose, coming to her, gripping her chin very gently, turning her face. “What did he hit you with?”
“First my bedroom door. Then his gun.” She ran her fingertips over her hurting jaw. “What are you doing here, Aaron?”
“I was feeling like a sitting duck at the hospital. And I overheard you and the doc talking before, so I knew where to find your key and your car.”
“So you just left?” She let him help her to her feet.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Mind? You probably just saved my life.”
She let him lead her into the kitchen, though she hated to walk away from her dog. But he eased her into a chair that left her a clear line of sight to Fred’s still-prone form. Then he turned on the water, located a washcloth and soaked it, then went to the fridge, where he filled the cloth with ice. “Here, hold this on your jaw.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not even close to enough to say how sorry I am, Olivia.”
She frowned up at him. “Sorry? About what?”
“Bringing this to your doorstep.” He returned to the fridge, this time in search of something to drink, and brought out two diet colas, opening both and setting one on the table in front of her. “Obviously this has something to do with me. Maybe the killer knew I was supposed to be staying with you, so when he found out I wasn’t dead, he came looking for me here.”
She met his eyes, saw the regret in them, and shook her head slowly. “This didn’t have anything to do with you.” She said it softly, warily, hoping not to have to tell him anything more.
“Yeah, right.” He took the ice from her hand, repositioning it on her face, and then pressing her palm to it again. “You have killers after you, too, right?”
“I’ve been hiding from them for more than sixteen years,” she said softly. His eyes shot to hers, and she held his gaze. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it. But I have the feeling you can understand that, seeing as you’ve been doing the same thing.”
“I have?”
She shrugged. “You do the math.”
He nodded slowly. “So you think this guy was after you?”
“Yes.”
He frowned. “I heard him call you Sarah. He asked about…disks.”
She averted her eyes.
“Maybe if you just gave them to
