Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29800 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 149(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“Goddamn it, Nora.”
My jaw locks hard enough to ache.
She lied to me.
Snuck out while I was splitting wood behind the shed because she thought she could protect me by handling this alone.
The thought should piss me off more than it does.
Mostly it terrifies me.
I crouch lower, fingers brushing fresh snow where her boot slipped near the trail edge. She’d been moving fast. Nervous. The imprint is deeper than it should be.
Then I see the second set of tracks.
Male.
Heavy.
Following hers.
Every muscle in my body goes still.
Not fear.
Calculation.
The kind drilled into me overseas until instinct became survival.
Wind shifts through the trees, carrying sound with it, and suddenly I’m back in desert heat instead of mountain snow, blood in my mouth, smoke filling my lungs while radio chatter screams through my headset.
Move.
Find them.
Get there first.
I force the memory down hard and keep moving.
Fast now.
The storm works against me, snow swallowing tracks almost as quickly as they’re made, but whoever took her isn’t mountain trained. He’s cutting through low ground instead of elevation cover, breaking branches, leaving drag marks where Nora fought him.
Good.
Means she didn’t give in easy.
That thought does something ugly to me.
I move harder through the woods, rifle strapped across my back while adrenaline burns through every nerve ending. The wind howls louder the deeper I go into the timber, but underneath it, I catch something else.
Voices.
Ahead.
Close.
I kill my flashlight instantly and move silent through the trees.
The abandoned ranger station comes into view through blowing snow.
And then I see her.
Nora’s shoved against the side of the building, wrists zip-tied in front of her while some bastard grips her jaw hard enough to bruise.
Everything inside me snaps.
The guy’s talking, too focused on her to notice me moving through the storm behind him.
“You were always going to end up with me,” he’s saying quietly. “You just picked the wrong man first.”
Nora’s eyes flick past him.
Find mine.
And something raw hits my chest when her entire expression changes.
Relief.
Not panic.
Not fear.
Relief because I came for her.
The stalker notices it instantly.
He turns and realization spikes through me.
Deputy Sheriff Foster. Fuck. I knew I hated that prick.
I hit him before he has a chance to think and the impact drives him sideways into the snow hard enough to crack his head against the ranger station wall. He grunts once before I’m on him again, fist slamming into his face with enough force to split skin across my knuckles instantly.
“You touched her,” I say, voice low and shaking with rage.
He spits blood into the snow and swings back fast.
I dodge easily.
Too easy.
Military training never really leaves your body. Violence becomes muscle memory after enough years surviving it.
He comes at me again.
I grab his arm.
Twist.
The crack echoes through the trees.
He screams.
Good.
Nora gasps somewhere behind me, but I barely hear it over the roaring in my head.
All I can see is her tied up.
Terrified.
Bruises already forming on her skin.
I hit him again.
And again.
The guy collapses into the snow trying to crawl backward while blood pours from his mouth.
“You should’ve stayed away from her,” I growl.
“You don’t own her,” he spits.
That’s the wrong thing to say.
I grab him by the throat and slam him hard into the ground, snow exploding around us while something black and vicious tears loose inside my chest completely.
“No,” I say quietly. “But she’s under my protection.”
His hand scrambles toward his jacket pocket.
Weapon.
I react before thought catches up.
My fist collides with his jaw hard enough to knock him flat again. Then my hands are around his throat.
Tight.
Violent.
Primal.
The storm disappears.
The mountain disappears.
All I see is Nora shaking in the snow because this bastard hunted her from the moment she arrived on my mountain and thought he could take her from me.
He claws at my wrists desperately.
Good.
Let him feel it.
“You scared her,” I say, squeezing harder. “You broke into my cabin. You put your hands on her.”
His face turns purple beneath me.
And the terrifying part?
Part of me wants to keep going.
Part of me wants to crush his throat and leave his body buried beneath six feet of snow where nobody ever finds him.
“Rhett.”
Nora’s voice cuts through the rage barely.
“Rhett.”
My grip tightens anyway.
I can hear her struggling closer behind me.
“Rhett, stop.”
I freeze.
Not because of him.
Because of her.
Because her voice sounds scared.
Of me.
The realization hits like ice water dumped straight over my head.
I release him abruptly and shove backward to my feet while the stalker coughs violently in the snow beneath me.
Every breath I drag in burns.
Nora’s standing there shaking hard, snow clinging to her hair and coat while her wide eyes lock onto mine.
Blood coats my hands.
For one terrible second, neither of us moves.
Then she breaks first.
Not away from me.
Toward me.
She practically crashes into my chest, and the second her body hits mine, something inside me settles enough to breathe again.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur roughly, hands sliding around her immediately. “I’ve got you.”