Shatter Read Online Free PDF

at her forehead. Ten seconds and she’d have control over the military-style Beretta. Fifteen and the attacker would have a broken finger. Twenty, a broken nose.
    But his other arm was extended well out of her reach, the weapon pointed steadily at Mitch’s chest. And she didn’t know how to get one weapon without triggering the other.
    “It’s in the house,” she said. “In a safe.”
    “Hands, Foster. Hands .” The gunman’s warning made her dart a look toward Mitch. He lifted a hand from behind his body, where he’d been reaching for something. “If I have to warn you again, it will be with a bullet.” Then to Halina, “Your boyfriend and your dog are the most annoying creatures I’ve ever run across.”
    “Let Mitch take the dog and go. I’ll get you the research from the house.” Where she knew every inch of every room. Where she had built-in traps. Where she could take this man down, knock him out, and restrain him.
    “Hell no,” Mitch said. “I’m not getting near Cujo.”
    The gunman laughed and turned his head toward Mitch.
    Get close. Take control. Tommy’s commands whispered in her head.
    Halina stepped in, grabbed the gunman’s wrist in one hand, the muzzle of the weapon in the other. He immediately resisted, his muscles tensing. She used his rigid arm to pivot his body away from Mitch. Leaned on his wrist, shoved his arm. Underhand grab, twist, flip.
    Snap.
    The gunman screamed. Dex went insane inside the car. Halina’s stomach tweaked at the crack of bone. But she didn’t have time to dwell. She gripped the hand trapped in the weapon by a broken finger and yanked his arm down, pulling his face into her thrusting knee.
    Crunch.
    Mitch came into her peripheral vision, crouched, ready to jump in.
    “Stay out of it,” she warned. He’d mess up her moves, her rhythm, her plans.
    The gunman jerked backward, but found his hand still locked in the gun. “You bitch!”
    Halina shot a kick to his balls, but he evaded. Swung his free arm and slammed her temple with the other weapon.
    Fire split her skull. She stumbled sideways, but kept hold of his injured hand. Something pulled at the man from the other direction, jerking his hand in the weapon and giving Halina the break she needed to gain her feet. He screamed. Almost went down on his knees. But didn’t. His boot rammed her hip. “You fucking bitch .”
    She hit the ground and used her weight and momentum to pull him down with her. Caught sight of Mitch behind the gunman. Terror etched on his face.
    She ignored him. She had this.
    She twisted the gunman’s injured hand, bent it back, and flipped him. Instead of giving Halina that shocked second to regroup and start a ground attack, the gunman immediately sat forward, his good hand swinging toward her head. Halina grabbed it. Her energy dipped. She had to end this fast, while she still could.
    She pushed his arms wide. Tucked her chin. Used her legs to thrust her body upward. The crown of her head rammed his face. The sounds of impact—bone and flesh, the man’s grunt—registered a split second before pain exploded in her own brain. Ricocheted beneath her skull. And her world blinked out.
     
    Halina’s head swam back to consciousness. She was sitting upright, but not by her own strength. Something supported her. She lifted her head to assess the threat, and pain tore across her skull. Her vision blurred. Lights swirled into five-pointed stars.
    “Halina . . .” Her name came to her from a distance, muffled and wobbly. “Halina . . .”
    She blinked, refocused. Strong arms wrapped her waist. Dex’s fierce bark stabbed through the dark. Her situation came back in a rush. She tensed and looked down. The gunman lay unconscious beneath her, his face spattered with blood, lips torn open. Her stomach kicked. She gagged and leaned sideways, pulled out of the hold from behind and tried to crawl off, but lost her balance.
    She tilted toward the pavement, but never connected. Someone’s arms