Page 81 of Under Control

Danica dropped her gaze to the steaming brown-black mess of liquid in the cup. Coffee grounds were visibly floating to the top. He hadn’t bothered with sugar or cream, and she didn’t care. It was something, and she damn well appreciated it—something to clutch onto, something to distract her. Sipping on the bitter brew, she felt an overwhelming need to weep.

“I can’t lose him. It can’t end like this.”

“I know,” Delta replied, his own voice cracking. “I know.”

Danica looked up and saw the same distress in his eyes. He wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for her, wouldn’t pretend everything was going to be okay or lie to make her feel better.

He’s worried as hell, too.

And that was when Danica’s face twitched and scrunched up involuntarily—when she felt the need to throw up, when she lost control. She glanced down the hall, reliving the trauma of seeing Carrick’s bloody body disappear into the hospital’s emergency surgery unit. She’d seen her mom and dad disappear down that same hallway at the LA General—but they’d never come back.

Not alive.

“God,” she choked, her coffee sloshing out of the cup.

Delta lunged forward, taking a knee in front of her, his face dead serious.

“Look at me,” he said, tilting her wet face up to his soft brown eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but you aren’t alone. I’m here.”

“It’s not good. His injuries were serious…very serious.”

Delta ran his hand gently up her arm. He remained silent, watching her, holding her.

“My mom and dad died here,” she sputtered through the tears. “Just like Carrick might. Everyone I love…”

She pressed her eyes shut, shaking her head, trying to toss the pain away. The last words that had come out of his mouth were as much a mystery as their entire relationship. And in that moment, she broke down to a point she realized she was never going to come back from. As she sobbed, struggling to breathe, Delta drew his arm across her, holding her back.

“Miss Petrova,” a voice called out in the waiting room.

Danica raised her head slowly, her cheeks sticky from the tears. She saw a fit, blonde woman in a dark suit standing there, flashing an LAPD badge. Delta stood and immediately his demeanor changed. He flexed his shoulders, and he was tense.

“Danica,” the woman tucked a stray lock of her silky bob behind her ear, introducing herself. “LAPD IDENT, Sergeant Kendra Larose. Call me Kendra.”

“IDENT?” Danica asked, standing up beside Delta.

“Forensic Identification Services,” Kendra explained, holding out a business card for Danica. “I know this is a difficult time, but I need to talk to you.”

“Not now—” Delta started, putting his hand protectively in front of Danica.

“Stepback,” Kendra bit at him, resulting in a stare-down.

Danica ran her hand over the card, breathing deeply and remembering everything Carrick had told her.Fight for yourself.

“Okay,” she replied, wiping the tears off her cheeks as she looked up at Kendra.

As Delta grumbled, stepping to the side, Kendra took out her notepad and prepared to take a statement.

“Danica, what happened?” Kendra began, scribbling quickly on the paper.

“Well…” Danica responded slowly, collecting her thoughts. What should she say? The vision of her uncle flashed across her eyes—everything he had done to her. Carrick’s words came to her mind, along with the vision of him losing consciousness. He’d risked his life for her.

She knew what she had to do.

Danica began recounting it all from the beginning—who Petrov was to her, how he’d hired Carrick to track her down and how Petrov had been trying to force her into a marriage for the purpose of transferring his American assets to a Russian.

“But I said no,” Danica concluded. “I said I wouldn’t do it.”

“You didn’t sign the documents?” Kendra raised her eyebrow.

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