One shot. Then nothing.
Morgan couldn’t breathe. Her lungs had stopped working. Had Ty shot the intruder, or had he been shot? There was no way of knowing. She listened for some kind of clue—Ty calling out to her, more Russian whispers, anything—but there was only silence.
What if Ty was out there, bleeding on the floor, needing her help? She couldn’t bear the thought.
Morgan lightly poked the closet door with the bat. It swung open another inch… then another.
She still didn’t hear anything.
She risked a step forward and peeked her head around the door.
The room was empty.
Well, except for the corpse on the floor.
Taking care not to look at his face, Morgan stepped over his limp legs and out into the room. She thought for a second about calling out Ty’s name, but stopped herself. On the off chance that Ty wasn’t the one who had taken the shot, it was probably better not to bring attention to herself.
She tiptoed toward the bedroom door. She was only a foot away when it flew open.
This time, Morgan did scream. Adrenaline surged through her body, and she lunged forward like a madwoman, the bat held high above her head.
She crashed hard into Ty’s body and he stumbled backwards, smashing into the wall. His arms wrapped around her middle, steadying her. Morgan instantly let go of the bat. It clattered on the floor behind her.
“Ty!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. She didn’t realize she was crying until she choked back the sobs trying to speak. “You’re alive.”
“And you’re not in the closet,” he said. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I heard the gunshot. I didn’t know if you were hurt.”
“I’m fine,” he said, smiling at her. He brought a hand to her face and wiped away her tears. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”
“There were two of them.”
“Not anymore.”
Maybe he was right. Maybe she should put a little more trust in him. After all, how often did she meet a man capable of taking out two trained assassins before he’d even put on his pants in the morning…outside of comic books that is?
“The other one is…” Morgan grimaced. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
“Dead too.” Ty obviously didn’t have any problems finishing her sentence.
“They’re Barinov’s men, aren’t they?”
Ty nodded, and smoothed back her hair. “But they can’t hurt you now.”
“Did he find out that you’re a federal agent?”
“I doubt it. If he knew, he’d become more cautious, not more brazen. Killing me would only bring the Bureau down on him harder. This was about you. Which means we need to get you out of here.”
“We need to get dressed.”
Ty looked down at himself. His brows arched as if it had totally slipped his notice that he had just fought to the death while nude.
“Good point.” He went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans. Then he went to the closet.
“I left my dress in there,” Morgan said without turning around. She didn’t want to have to face the dead body again if she didn’t have to.
Ty returned a moment later and handed over her dress. Morgan slipped it over her head as he buttoned his shirt. She had just finished pulling her shoes on when Ty took her by the hand and pulled her out of the bedroom.
Morgan caught a glimpse of two feet and a pair of dark slacks sticking out from behind the couch. She looked away before she could see anything else.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled her toward the kitchen. Shards of glass crunched beneath her heels as they stepped through what remained of the back door.
“To my office,” he said, as he took the metal steps down to the parking lot two at a time. “This has gotten out of control. I’m ending it.”
“No,” Morgan said, stopping in her tracks. She was still a few steps from the bottom, but she watched as Ty crouched down behind his bike and started running his hand under the seat. “We’re so close to putting Barinov away.”
“We are not doing anything. You are not an agent, Morgan. You’re a civilian, and my job is to keep you out of danger, not throw you deeper into it.” A second later, he stood up. Pinched in between his fingers was a small black plastic square.
“What’s that?” Morgan asked.
“The answer to how they found us—a tracking device.” Ty tossed it down on the blacktop. “Barinov’s men must have put it on there Sunday night after they found us together.”
Morgan stared down at the shattered piece of plastic.
This was getting out of control. It needed to end. Soon. Before anyone else got hurt.
And she was the only one who could stop it.
The realization didn’t thrill her. In fact, it turned her blood to ice. But that didn’t change anything.
“Will he stop if your investigation does?” she asked Ty, even though she already knew the answer. Barinov wasn’t going to stop seeing her as a threat just because the FBI was involved. If anything, he would come after her harder.