Way of the Warrior

by Suzanne Brockmann

“Me? I’m just doing a job.”

  “You’ve taken a difficult blow and rechanneled your life.” She skimmed her fingers over the scars along his forehead, her cool touch healing. “What you’ve done is every bit as brave as what you accomplished in the field.”

  Her words brought a lump to his throat. “I had to accommodate if I wanted a life at all.”

  “If?” Her head shifted, and he could feel her look up at him. “You wouldn’t…”

  “Kill myself? No, I’m past those thoughts now.” Life was still hard but not like those early days when he’d woken in pain in a dark world.

  “Oh, God, Gavin, why didn’t you call me?” She slid her arms around him and held on tightly. “I would have come to you then. You always were too damn independent.”

  “Joke’s on me then”—he laughed at himself, at the crazy turns of the world—“since I’m dependent on just about everyone now, including my dog.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Finding a career choice has been…challenging. I’m a military medic, a pararescueman. Tough as hell to do either of those without eyes.” He drew in a breath and admitted to her something he hadn’t told anyone else. “I’ve been working on braille, so I can go back to school and get my degree.”

  She cupped his face, and he could feel her looking at him. “That’s fantastic. What are you planning to study?”

  “Social work and counseling.” He grinned. “I’ll get to listen more, talk less.”

  She pressed a kiss to his mouth, lingered, then said, “You are an incredible man.”

  He gathered her closer, cupping the back of her head, wondering how they’d gotten so off track. Wanting to be the man she thought he was but not certain he could be what she needed now any more than he had then. He couldn’t even keep her safe on his own. His arms twitched tighter around her.

  Just as his radio blared with an alarm next to him.

  CHAPTER 5

  Heart pounding, Stacy leaned in to hear their conversation over the two-way radio.

  Liam reported, “Jared Lewis parked next door and is approaching the house from the east. He’s slipping through the fence gate now.”

  Stark, efficient words that didn’t begin to convey the horror of what was moving toward them. Her mouth went dry.

  Stacy’s stomach plummeted. She looked at Gavin, trying to gauge his mood, but his face was stone. Focused. He was in some other zone. She wanted to warn him how bad this could be. What if she hadn’t made it clear how dangerous Jared could be? How relentless and—

  “Roger,” Gavin replied. “Am securing Stacy now. Over.”

  “Gavin?” She felt sick.

  He hooked the radio to his jeans. “We’re going to lock down in the bathroom with Radar. Jared Lewis will never get anywhere near you.”

  Radar growled low, as if in agreement.

  Oh God, how could she have been so selfish as to put him at risk like this? Once she’d found out he was blind, she should have gone to the cops again or left town. This wasn’t fair to him or to his friends.

  And something niggled at her. Why hide? His military buddies were outside. This plan had sounded so smart when they’d presented it to her over pizza, but now she wasn’t so certain. She slid off the bed, standing. “Are you sure they’re okay out there?”

  From their radio conversation, it hadn’t sounded like they were outdoors at all.

  “They’ll be fine. And so will you,” Gavin assured her, gripping her arm to steer her toward the bathroom just as Radar’s growl ramped.

  A body hurtled through the window and hit the carpet, shattered glass all around him. For an instant she thought one of Gavin’s friends had come in only to realize…

  She screamed. “Jared!”

  Masked, Jared rolled to his feet, a knife in his hand, tiny glass cuts giving him a blood-speckled, eerie look. Noise rumbled from next door. Gavin’s friends? The bark of Rachel’s dog pierced the wall.

  “Stacy…” Jared called out in a low hiss, “you can’t hide in the shadows forever.”

  Beside her, she felt the muscles in Gavin’s body bunch. He and Radar launched as one directly at Jared.

  “A knife,” she shouted, “he has a knife.”

  While Radar clamped his teeth around Jared’s ankle, Gavin was fighting blind but with instincts no blindness could dim. He locked his arms around her wiry ex-husband, using his bulk to weigh the man down, making himself a human barrier between Jared and Stacy while his fist found Jared’s jaw. Neck. Whatever he could reach. Her ex-husband wore his standard stocking cap, but it slid askew in the struggle, showing the evil face she recognized too well. Jared slashed the blade across Gavin’s arm. She felt the cut all the way to her soul.

  “Why did you have to come back to town? She’s mine. She’ll always be mine,” he rambled madly. “You thought you could lure me next door to your decoy, but I’m smarter than that. How are you going to fight against me, blind man?”

  Blood leaked onto Gavin’s carpet. Gavin’s blood. Damn it, she wasn’t going to stand here frozen, doing nothing. She refused to let fear paralyze her. She had too much to lose. She considered racing next door for help, but Gavin could be dead before she got back. So she screamed, and screamed, and screamed again while searching for a weapon.

  Gavin’s cane.

  Still screeching her head off because no one would ever silence her again, she grabbed the thick wooden cane and waited for just the right moment…

  Gavin had Jared pinned to the floor, but her ex-husband started to swipe with the knife again.

  She swung the cane, smacking full force into his wrist. The sound of cracking bone mixed with Jared’s howl of agony.

  The knife skittered away, and she swept it up quickly, adrenaline pumping hard. “Gavin, I have his knife and your cane, and trust me, Jared, there’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever let you use either of them against me.”

  Jared cradled his shattered wrist to his chest, rolling from side to side, whimpering. Radar released his grip, but let loose a low growl of warning without backing up. Gavin rose cautiously to his feet, blood flowing down his arm, not that he seemed to care or notice. The difference in the two men had never been so stark as now.

  Footsteps thundered in the hallway as she realized his friends were running to the rescue. Somehow, in what had seemed like forever, only a minute or two had passed. Sirens wailed, and this time Jared wouldn’t be slipping away. Because she and Gavin had rescued each other, worked as a team, the couple they were always meant to be. She loved him.

  And this time, she wasn’t going to repeat her mistake in letting him go.

  • • •

  Gavin tugged on a clean T-shirt with a wince. Hugh had stitched up his arm while the cops took everyone’s statements. The bastard Jared Lewis was in the back of an ambulance under police guard and would never be coming near Stacy again. But God, the bastard had almost won. Stacy’s worst nightmare had gotten closer than ever to her even after Gavin’s promise that he would never let that happen. Guilt pummeled him over how he’d almost failed to keep her safe.

  Things definitely hadn’t gone off exactly as planned, but then he’d underestimated Stacy, something he would never do again—if she gave him the chance.

  His house was quiet for the first time since Jared had come blasting through that glass. Liam had boarded up the window. The cleanup could wait until later. It was almost daylight. That much he could tell, light and dark. But he would never be the man he was. Would what he had to offer be enough for Stacy? Would he be enough for her?

  He sure as hell hoped so, because he loved her so damn much, he didn’t know how to say good-bye to her again. But after all she’d been through, the choice had to be hers.

  Her future had to be one of her choosing.

  The scent of her teased his nose an instant before
she touched his shoulder lightly. “How does your arm feel?”

  “Just fine. Plenty numb around the stitches, which is a good thing.” He closed his closet door. “Hugh’s the second best medic I know.”

  “And the first best would be?” She slid her arms around his neck, her body pressed to his.

  “Me, of course,” he said with a grin, his hands riding low on her back, bringing her closer to him.

  “Ah, you’re riding an ego high after your big save there.” She toyed with the long hair just brushing the collar of his T-shirt. “Thank you. Truly. You saved my life.”

  “No, I didn’t.” More guilt piled on top of the heap inside him. “I failed to keep him away from you.”

  “How could you even think that? You kept him pinned, risking yourself. If you hadn’t done that, I never would have had time to grab your cane. Your friends wouldn’t have made it in time for either of us.” Her words rang with a fierceness and strength that awed him. “Gavin, I have to confess it felt good to get that swing in for myself. We stopped him, you and I, and that felt amazing.”

  “We worked together,” he realized simply, truthfully. “We saved each other, with some help from Radar.”

  He felt her nod just before he reached down to scratch his dog’s ears. Radar leaned against him, resting his head against Stacy, too. The dog knew. Stacy was a part of his pack now.

  “I do love you, Gavin Novak.”

  “And I love you, Stacy Currie.”

  “Since the day we met. Now and always. I can trust in that.” She arched up on her toes to kiss him, once, twice, holding until she eased back with a sigh.

  “Stacy,” he said, sweeping her hair back, “can you trust that you’re safe now?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “What if I said I want us to leave here, to start over?” He wasn’t sure why he was bringing this up now rather than biding his time. But there was a desperation in him to make up for lost years. He couldn’t wait another minute after waiting a decade. He knew how precious their love was, and he wouldn’t lose another moment with her. “You mentioned wanting to leave, but I want you to be sure. I know this is the only sense of home you’ve known. Your roots are here. I don’t want to take that from you. But if you’re sure you want to go, I’m ready to start over.”

  “I have to admit, leaving the bad memories behind and beginning fresh sounds enticing. But it’s familiar here for you in your duplex. Wouldn’t it be…difficult for you to adapt? Wherever you are, I’ll be happy.”

  How like her to worry about him. This would have concerned him too a few weeks ago when he’d been struggling with how to find the courage to let her know he’d returned. He hadn’t wanted to appear weak in front of this woman. But now, he’d found a new sense of himself and the old confidence returning, even if he couldn’t tell the mustard and ketchup bottles apart. That stuff was minor. It didn’t matter. He would stumble a few times figuring out a new place, but he’d proven to himself he had something to offer her. “I think we’ve both lived in the shadows here too long. It’s time for us to take our love out into the light.”

  She wriggled against him enticingly. “What exactly are you proposing?”

  “Just that. Proposing. Again.” He took her face in his hands, wanting her to feel the intensity in his words, even if he couldn’t show her with his eyes. “If you’ll have me. I might be physically imperfect, but I’ve got my head screwed on straight now. I can tell what’s most important. In that way, I can see more clearly than ever. And I know I want you in my life, by my side. Always.”

  “Oh Gavin, you are my first love, my forever love.” She held his face right back, the intensity of her words flowing into him every bit as strong. “You are everything I have ever wanted. I was wrong to let you leave without me before. I won’t make the mistake of losing you again.”

  “So that’s a yes?” he asked, a smile spreading full out from his face and through him.

  “Of course it’s a yes.” She punctuated her vow with a kiss. “Where should we go?”

  “Wherever you choose, as long as we’re together. Forever this time.” He backed her toward the bed until her knees hooked and they tumbled together onto the mattress. “With you in my life, the future looks bright, my Anastasia.”

  Order Catherine Mann’s fourth book

  in the Elite Force: That Others May Live series

  Free Fall

  On sale now

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  USA Today bestselling author Catherine Mann specializes in military romances with over fifty books in print. Catherine’s works have also made the WaldenBooks extended list. A RITA winner, she has also won the Bookseller’s Best Award. She has finaled in the National Readers’ Choice Awards, the Reviewers International Organization Choice Award, the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Maggie Award, and the RITA Award (six times). Catherine’s books have been widely released internationally, including Great Britain, Germany, Spain, France, Portugal, Greece, Turkey, Iceland, Australia, and Japan. She lives with her husband, who is a combat veteran and retired Air Force colonel, near Pensacola in the Florida Panhandle. For more information, visit her website at www.CatherineMann.com.

  TORN

  A Protect and Serve Novella

  KATE SERINE

  PROLOGUE

  Sadie.

  Her name flashed through his mind as it had so many times before, his connection to home, to normalcy. She’d been there for him through every high point and low point in his life since she was in pigtails and he was just a little shit who liked to tease her with earthworms until she screamed. Well, until that day she clocked him. That had definitely marked a turning point in their friendship.

  Ever since then, when shit got crazy, when his dad was bustin’ his balls, when his older brothers were being total assholes as only older brothers can be, or, hell—when the world just didn’t make any fucking sense—she was there. She was his center. His rock.

  And during those long, dark nights in Kandahar when his thoughts caught up with him, when the anxiety and the stress of waiting for a conflict that might never happen came together in a single, crushing weight in the middle of his chest, it was thoughts of Sadie that helped him through it.

  But why now?

  He was supposed to be on patrol, needed to have his head in the game. Why the hell would he be thinking of her now?

  He shoved away images of the woman he’d been in love with for as long as he could remember and tried to get his shit together. But even as he forced himself to focus on something other than the memory of her wise, dark eyes sparkling with laughter, he felt dread creeping in and was tempted to settle back into that happy place instead of this godforsaken shithole.

  But before he could give in to that urge, he heard his father’s rough bark in his head, pushing him as he’d always done, “Man up, Joseph!”

  Figures. Leave it to the Old Man to intrude on what little happiness there was to be had in the world…

  Joe tried to chuckle, but the effort sent a wave of fresh hell through his entire body, wringing a guttural cry from him before he could check it. Confused, he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze that clouded his vision and to get his bearings. Clumps of dirt rained down around him, while the sunlight streamed through the particles of dust creating tiny rainbows completely incongruous with the chaos that was coming into focus.

  Ragged breathing filled his ears, loud but not loud enough to drown out the shrill ringing that made him wince. It took a split second for him to realize the breathing was his own—and it sounded like shit.

  Somewhere in the distance, he heard muffled shouting, felt a deep rumble, the vibration transferring through the ground and into his chest.

  He was on the ground?

  What the fuck?

  Adrenaline shot through his veins. He tried to roll onto his side and push u
p to his knees, but nothing seemed to function. His arms collapsed under him, his legs wouldn’t work. The ground rolled, tilting precariously like the world had been knocked off its axis and was spinning out of control toward the sun.

  Get up or die.

  It was his own voice in his head this time, his survival instincts kicking in when his senses couldn’t be trusted. But his body refused to obey. He tried again. Failed. This time, when he fell onto his back, his head lolled to one side and he caught a glimpse of Sadie’s photo caught in some of the harsh underbrush that grew sparsely in the region. It was the photo he’d carried on him every day. His stomach sank when he saw it.

  Only one reason it wouldn’t have been safely tucked away near his heart.

  Ah, shit.

  Panic squeezed his gut in its sickening grasp when he realized what must’ve happened, but he kept it together. He had to. He’d made a promise.

  The breeze caught the edge of the photo, making it flap just enough to taunt him with the threat of dislodging it. Somehow he knew if he didn’t get to it first, the harsh desert wind would sweep Sadie away from him forever.

  His hand trembled as he extended his arm, straining to reach the photo. But his bloody fingers fell short. He moaned, emotion choking him. He had to reach her, had to get to her.

  It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, damn it! He’d never told her he loved her, had never held her in his arms. Fuck. He was supposed to make it home. He’d promised her.

  She was gonna be so pissed…

  “Hang in there, Dawson!” someone was yelling as several pairs of hands suddenly grabbed him, jostling him unmercifully as they tried to assess his wounds. Someone pressed on his abdomen, sending him careening toward darkness even as he shouted, “Stay with me!”

  He didn’t know who the hell was talking to him, didn’t give a shit. There was only one person who mattered. He strained harder, flapping his fingers with a groan of frustration, willing his hand to reach the damned photo. But now they were lifting him up, carrying him, the picture drifting farther and farther away from his grasp. And as he watched, the wind snatched the picture from the grass. It flipped end over end twice and then, for a moment, it was suspended in midair as if time had stopped.