Run to Me by Christy Reece Page A

sure what they are, when they were … if they even exist.”
    “What do you remember about the past six months? Where have you been? Why did you go off on your own like that? How did you find Donald Rosemount?” Noah McCall delivered the questions with the subtly and speed of an AK-47.
    Her eyes darted from Noah McCall to Ethan. Both men’s expressions were cool as they examined, assessed. Her mind searched, grasping for information … anything. This was the first time she’d been questioned. She’d felt no pressure to give information before this. Now she could see that they both expected something from her, and she could give … nothing. Her heart pounded in tandem with her head. Pain exploded. The food she’d swallowed headed back up her throat. “I … I don’t …”
    Ethan stood and touched her shoulder. “That’s enough, Noah.”
    The dark brown eyes that had looked so cool and remote seconds ago turned warm and compassionate once more. “I’m sorry, Shea. I needed to see for myself.”
    Understanding that she’d been under some kind of test, she shrank away from both men.
    “Don’t start that again,” Ethan snapped. “We are not going to hurt you.”
    Cold chills shuddered through her as she realized something astounding. She had begun to trust Ethan. Noah McCall’s questions had made her want to go to Ethan, to ask for his help and protection.
    Ethan shoved away the table holding the tray of food and sat beside her on the bed. “Stop looking like that.”
    “I was beginning to trust you.”
    “You
can
trust me … you can trust both of us. Noah only wanted to—”
    “Shea, this is my wife, Samara,” McCall said.
    A petite young woman stood beside Noah McCall. Dark-haired, very pretty, and obviously pregnant, Samara McCall smiled at her—the first smile she’d seen that didn’t seem to have a hidden agenda behind it.
    “Ethan, you and Noah need to go. I think you’ve scared Shea enough for one day.” Though her voice was soft, Samara McCall’s tone indicated her seriousness.
    Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t—”
    Samara stared pointedly at both men. “She doesn’t need any more pressure right now, from either of you.”
    “Fine.” Ethan took the hand he’d been holding and pressed it to his mouth. “You’re safe now. Remember that, if nothing else.”
    A ragged sigh of relief blew through her lips as the two men left the room.
    Her expression gently understanding, Samara McCall sat in the chair close to the bed. “They mean well, but they can get a bit intense, don’t you think?”
    Confusion added another layer of pain to the constant dull pounding in her head. She was a trained warrior. Dangerous to anyone who got in the way of her master’s orders. Why had they left this small, unarmed, pregnant woman alone with her? Did they not realize what she was capable of?
    “Shea, what’s wrong? You look as though you’re full of questions.”
    “Why would they leave you alone in here with me? I could kill you in an instant.”
    The compassionate look on Samara McCall’s face was a surprise and increased that odd, vulnerable feeling inside her. Why was this woman being so kind? Samara’s words, however, were even more astonishing. “Because Shea Monroe is not a killer. They know that and, soon, you will, too.”
    Ethan clicked the door closed behind himself and growled, “You son of a bitch. You didn’t have to do that.”
    Noah raised a brow. “Still defending Shea, I see.”
    “Somebody needs to.”
    “Relax, Ethan. Shea’s a lot stronger than you give her credit for … she always has been. I needed to be sure.”
    “And?” Ethan challenged, still pissed.
    “She’s not lying,” Noah said.
    “No, she’s not.”
    Both men turned at the sound of Dr. Norton’s exhausted voice. He held a thick stack of papers in his hand.
    “You got the test results,” Ethan said.
    Looking as tired as Ethan felt, Dr. Norton nodded. “Yes … though I wish I could tell you