“What’s the project?”

“I’m sorry, Rand. I really need to head north. I was supposed to fly out this morning, but Diana needed me.”

Disappointment hit him in the gut. Was she telling the truth or trying to ditch him? Was he blowing it again? “Promise me we can talk when you get back. When will you be back?”

“I’m not sure. My return ticket says two weeks, but if my research is successful, it could be longer.”

The idea of waiting two weeks or more to talk to her was a gut punch, which made zero sense. He was used to long deployments and limited communication. But he’d waited six damn months to see Kira, and now that he had, he wanted more.

Needed more.

Same as it had been that first day, when he’d kept his phone at the ready, waiting for a text from her. Then the text he’d gotten had changed everything.

A single word.

Help

He wanted to touch her. Hug her. Hell, he wanted to kiss her. But she wasn’t giving any welcoming signs, and he wasn’t about to bulldoze through her obvious walls.

She’d been abducted by a man who’d wanted to own her and who’d never once cared if she consented to his attention. Rand ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Only Kira did this to him.

“Will you let me know when you’re back? So we can go on that date?”

“Your girlfriend might not like that.”

He shook his head. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

She flinched, like she didn’t believe him. “I don’t know, Rand. I’m really not in a place to consider anything right now. I’m sorry my father put you off. But maybe that was for the best. You…aren’t my type.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t clear about that in December.”

Actually, she had been. But he hadn’t believed her. He wasn’t sure he believed her now. But it wasn’t like he had a choice.

He turned to head down the corridor to the exit, wondering how he’d screwed this up so badly. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her about what her dad had done, but what else could he do? Let her believe he was so callous as to not reach out to her after he’d been the one to find her battered and delirious?

What kind of asshole would ghost her after that?

She’d mentioned emailing him. Not the emails he’d received, sent by a man who didn’t want to share his daughter’s attention. What had her real emails said?

Did she still want to know if he was allergic to strawberries?

He turned to ask her that, but before the words left his mouth, a shrill alarm sounded throughout the building. At the same time, his cell phone buzzed with the emergency signal.

The Voice of God spoke through the base’s public address system. “Warning. Active shooter on Naval Base Little Creek. Shelter in place. Repeat, shooting in progress on Naval Base Little Creek. Shelter in place. Little Creek is in lockdown. Shelter in place.”

Chapter Four

The wail of the alarm sent a jolt of panic through Kira. She swayed on her feet. Before she embarrassed herself by tumbling down the stairs, Rand was there to steady her. She wanted to lean into him, but jerked back instead.

He’d seen enough of her weakness. 

“Active shooter?” Her voice squeaked because her throat was tight with fear.

“That can’t be…” He had his phone out and was looking at the screen. “My phone says the same. Shit.” He nodded toward the stairs. “Go up.”

“Why not go back to the lecture hall? I’ve got the key. We can lock ourselves in.”

“Ground-floor windows. A shooter could see us from outside before we have a chance to pull all the blinds. Plus, there’s no good cover there. Cubicles at least offer lots of hiding places.”

She turned and headed up the flight of stairs. Her shoes clacked on the steps, and she slowed her pace to mute the sound. Surely, she wouldn’t be so unlucky that the shooter would show up in this building of all the potential targets on base, but if they did, she wouldn’t make it easy for them to find her.

Now that it was after five, she and Rand might be the only people left in this office building, which served civilian NAVFAC employees. Behind her, Rand’s steps were silent. His breathing was silent. She only knew he was there because…she could feel his presence.

The stairs ended in a vestibule with two doors, one of which opened to a large room—at least half the size of the entire floor—with a maze of cubicles.

Rand whispered in her ear. “Head toward the center. Stay away from the windows. Crouch low. Take cover under a desk. If you find one with a filing cabinet or a table with a skirt to hide behind, even better.”

She realized he didn’t plan to hide with her, and another wave of fear washed through her. But of course, they both couldn’t fit—and be fully hidden—beneath a single desk. And…he was a SEAL. He might not take shelter at all.

When they were a good distance from all windows in a sea of eyebrow-height—his, not hers—cubicle walls, she turned to him. He wore a camouflage combat uniform, but she didn’t see any kind of weapon on his hip. “Do you have a gun?” she whispered.

He gave a short jerk of his head. “There’s strict control of guns on base. Not allowed in classrooms like yours.”

The alarm, which had repeated at a regular interval, now went silent. “Any chance that means it’s all clear?”

He shook his head. “If it were, they’d say so. Probably they realized the alarm provided the shooter cover.”

His phone lit up, and she realized he’d silenced it. Which was probably standard protocol for an active shooter and sheltering in place. She pulled her own phone out and made sure it was still in silent mode.

She resumed her search for a cubicle with an inviting hiding place. She told herself this was just an inconvenience. She might miss her flight to Malta, but that was all. No way would the shooter target this obviously empty building.

Just an inconvenience.

Still, her heart raced and her hands shook as she scanned workspace after workspace for a decent hiding spot.

This wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t her turn to face random gun violence.

She should be skipped on that rotation given that she’d faced very serious non-random violence just six months ago.

She heard a burst of gunfire. Several shots in rapid succession. Outside.