Rules in Rescue

by Nichole Severn

  He released his hold as pressure built in his gut. “What do you mean?”

  “When this is over—” she pulled back her shoulders “—after I recover Bennett, I’m putting in my papers for discharge.”

  “You love your job.” Anthony gave her another foot of space. He’d followed her career from the start. Processing crime scenes on bases, illegal dealings across state lines, all those soldiers she’d helped. She’d spent the last decade studying, working for a cause she believed in. And she was damn good at it. What could’ve possibly changed? “You’ve made a difference. Why would you want to leave?”

  The answer sat on the tip of his tongue before she even said a word.

  “Hunter.” The glassy haze over her eyes revealed she wasn’t really seeing him in front of her. “When I was shot last year...” She shifted on her feet. “He’s four years old. He’s already had to live without a father in his life. He deserves to grow up with a mother who isn’t risking her life on the job or who might not come home at all.” A thin smile curved one side of her mouth as she lifted her eyes to his. “I love my job, and I think I’m good at it, but I love him more. And I want to see him grow up. I want to see school pictures, watch him fall in love for the first time, get married. Have a family of his own someday.”

  She rolled her lips between her teeth and turned her face away. As if she needed to hide from him. “Sounds silly when I say it out loud. Me, giving up the past ten years of my life. But sacrifice is part of the job, right? That’s what I agreed to when I decided to keep him after I found out I was pregnant. I just honestly didn’t think this day would come.”

  “It’s not silly.” Anthony slid his hands around to her lower back, drawing her into him. Surprisingly, she let him. The muscles down her spine stiffened, but inch by inch they released as he held her. Her rosy scent drifted from her hair as she closed her eyes. Rose oil had always been one of her favorite natural perfumes.

  She pressed her cheek into his chest, right over his heart. Still a perfect fit. Then again, he’d always believed she’d been created just for him. “But as much as you want to finish this investigation, you’re not going anywhere until you’ve had a couple hours of sleep.”

  “What?” She stepped back.

  “You hired me to protect you.” He framed her face between his calloused hands. Rough against smooth perfection. Dark versus light. “If my legacy is to step in front of a bullet for you, so be it. That’s my job. But I can’t do that job if you’re determined to destroy yourself first.”

  Her lips parted. She was beautiful. Absolutely, gut-wrenchingly beautiful. Always had been. Always would be, to him. But the small burst of a smile didn’t reach her eyes; rather, it merely accentuated the hollowness and exhaustion etched into her features.

  She pointed at the window and stepped out of his hold, one hand on his chest. “You want me to catch up on my sleep while Bennett’s out there, possibly dead?”

  “You aren’t good to anyone in your current condition, especially your partner, and we aren’t going to solve anything unless you have a clear head.” Anthony countered her escape, his voice dropping as he backed her to the end of the bed. “So to answer your question, yes. Right now, the most useful thing you can do for your partner is get some rest.”

  Her knees hit the bed frame and she collapsed onto the mattress. Pink flared in her cheeks. She rubbed at her left temple. “You’re probably right. I can barely see straight. But the files—”

  “Will still be deleted when you wake up.” He leaned forward, boxing her in with his arms as he gripped a pillow behind her. His mouth mere centimeters from hers, he shoved the memory of her taste, the feel of her lips on his, down deep. No matter how much he wanted to close that small space between them, he wouldn’t violate her request to keep their relationship professional.

  Heat spread through his chest as her sharp exhale slid across his throat. He should go. Peeling himself away from her, away from her raw, warm energy, he handed her the pillow. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch over you.”

  “I have no doubt.” She settled back against the mattress, fully dressed, as he took a seat in the recliner across the room.

  Within minutes her breathing slowed, barely audible over the pounding behind his ears. Her expression was relaxed, no longer hollow and controlled, the stress all but gone.

  The nightstand lamp reflected off a hint of metal protruding from under the edge of her pillow, right near her hand. Anthony crossed the room, his mouth pulling tight to one side. A blade. But not just any blade. A combat blade he’d brought home from Iraq. The one he’d given her for their two-year anniversary. He studied the angles of her cheekbones, his fingers tingling to brush away a strand of stray hair that’d fallen across her face. As much as she’d made it clear she wouldn’t acknowledge their past, the blade proved she’d obviously had a hard time cutting those emotional ties.

  His hand trailed to the chain stashed under his shirt collar. Then again, so had he. He moved back to the recliner, the Beretta in his shoulder holster digging into his side.

  It had already started, his getting wrapped up in her again. And it hadn’t even taken a full day. He’d invested hundreds of hours into his training. Weapons and explosives, interrogation, recovery, extraction, capture. All of it had been for nothing when it came to her. She’d blown past his defenses—circumvented the walls he’d built—with four simple words. I need your help. Damn, he was a sucker for pain. Because that was the only way this could go. In the end, whether they found her partner or not, Glennon would go back to her life when this was over. She’d move on. Again. And he’d be left to pick up the pieces. Again.

  Exhaustion pulled him deeper into the chair. He’d been trained to sleep with one eye open—never knew when or where an attack would come. The intel he’d requested from Elizabeth about the shooter who’d tried to kill Glennon wouldn’t be in for a few more hours. He’d set the security system and restocked his ammunition before bringing her the sandwich. If anyone came after her again, he’d be more than ready.

  She was safe. He’d made her a promise and he’d be damned sure he kept it.

  “Good night, sweetheart.” He might be a sucker for pain, but for him, any small amount of Glennon would be worth a thousand bullet wounds.

  * * *

  A SOFT CREAK reached his ears. Anthony unholstered his gun automatically as he flipped his watch for the time. He’d taken position in the chair two hours ago. Pinks and oranges bled through the thick curtains. Sunrise. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he surveyed the room. Glennon hadn’t moved from the bed, but had rolled onto her side sometime while he’d been asleep. He slid out of the chair, cocking his ear toward the door. Nothing.

  But it hadn’t been nothing. That creak. He’d heard it. And the only spot in the cabin where the floorboards protested like that was right in front of the bathroom, mere feet from this room.

  Someone had broken into the house.

  With one last glance at Glennon, Anthony gripped the doorknob. He slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. His eyes adjusted to the darkness fast, every instinct on high alert.

  From the center of the hallway, the shadowed intruder widened his stance. “You can’t protect her from what’s coming.”

  Anthony raised his gun and took aim. “Watch me.”

  * * *

  TWO GUNSHOTS EXPLODED through the darkness.

  Glennon rocketed out of bed, wrapping one hand around the combat blade she’d stashed under her pillow and the other around her service weapon on the nightstand. The room was empty, her panicked breathing blocking any hint of sound outside her closed bedroom door. “Anthony?”

  He wasn’t there.

  She rushed into the hallway. Swinging her weapon up to shoulder height, she forced her heartbeat to slow as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Listen. Breathe.

  Glennon h
ugged the wall as she moved, one foot in front of the other. The floorboard in front of the bathroom protested under her weight with a groan, and she froze. Nothing. No sign of movement anywhere in the house. No other shots fired. Had she dreamed the whole thing?

  Glennon cleared the cabin room by room, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. No. Those shots had been all too real, and the fact that Anthony wasn’t in the cabin screamed something had gone wrong.

  Morning streams of sunrise intensified a shadow as it rushed past the largest window in the front room.

  She swung the Glock around, finger beside the trigger. A rush of freezing Alaskan air caught in her throat. The front door was open. She ran her tongue across her dry lips. She’d taken a killing shot once before. If something had happened to Anthony...

  No. She had to focus. He could take care of himself. Hell, the Rangers had given him a nickname that only brushed the surface of his capabilities. The blade she’d stuffed into the waistband of her jeans cut against her skin as she forced herself out onto the porch. Pink-and-orange rays of sunrise highlighted the short expanse from the cabin to Campbell Lake, but nothing more. Nobody on the pier, nothing but fishing boats docked at the edge of the water. A thin line of trees surrounded the property, but nothing moved.

  Damn it. Where was he?

  “Anthony!” She took a single step off the porch. Her ears strained for a hint of what might be waiting for her, only the lapping of soft waves fighting for her attention. The gun grew heavy in her grasp. Something was wrong. He wouldn’t just leave. He wouldn’t abandon her.

  A roughened palm clamped over her mouth, another around the barrel of the Glock. Ripping it from her grasp, her attacker tossed the gun to the ground, out of reach.

  Her head slammed back into his shoulder as he lifted her off her feet. A scream worked up her throat. She swung her momentum forward to unbalance him, but his hold wouldn’t loosen. His hand slipped from her mouth. The knife. If she could get to the blade...

  “You’re going to stop looking for your partner, Sergeant Chase.” His rough growl vibrated through her. “Before you get yourself and the people you care about killed.”

  Her spine seized. The people she cared about... Hunter.

  “If you go near him, I will kill you.” Glennon rammed her elbow into her attacker’s solar plexus, and went for the knife stuffed inside the waistband of her jeans. In a single movement, she arced the blade up and back over her shoulder. His hand disappeared from around her waist as she swung at his collar. But missed. He’d jumped back from her and she dived for the gun. Landing hard, she knocked the icy breath from her lungs and slid her finger over the trigger. She hiked the gun over her shoulder and fired. The gun kicked back in her hand.

  But he was gone.

  The corner of the cabin ruptured in splinters from her shot. The bullet had missed its mark. Glennon surveyed the rest of the porch, the pier, the thin line of trees surrounding the property. He’d disappeared.

  “Glennon!” Anthony’s concern carried across the property as he ran out of the tree line toward her. He darted past the corner of the house, gun in hand, after her attacker.

  Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Shoving to her feet, she gripped her weapon and gave chase. She pumped her legs hard. The bastard had threatened her son. He wasn’t getting away.

  More than thirty yards ahead, the figure dressed in head-to-toe black and a ski mask ripped open the door to a waiting pickup. They were going to lose him. Desperation dumped another round of adrenaline into her blood.

  Her attacker raised his weapon. In a split second both she and Anthony had been placed on the wrong side of the gun. But Anthony didn’t stop. Two shots kicked up dirt and snow at his feet, but he kept advancing.

  “Anthony, no!” Rushing forward, she put herself between him and the chance of high-speed lead poisoning, just as he’d done for her back at the abandoned house. She shot her hands up, her gun pointed at the brightening sky in surrender. She wouldn’t risk Anthony taking a bullet for her, no matter how used to the idea he’d become. Puffs of air crystalized in front of her lips, but she couldn’t move—couldn’t think—as her attacker climbed into the truck and turned over the engine. Anthony’s chest pressed into her uninjured shoulder, as though she was the only barrier holding him back.

  Within seconds the truck tires kicked up gravel at the end of the property, and her attacker disappeared.

  Her hands ached from gripping her weapon so damn tight. A rush of defeat flooded through her. She collapsed onto her knees, every ounce of energy draining from her. It’d been a warning. Despite hitting dead end after dead end, she’d somehow gotten close. Why else would someone break in? The intruder’s words registered as her nervous system returned to normal. You’re going to stop looking for your partner.

  She wasn’t the hiding type. She’d fight. She’d find Bennett, and she’d protect her son. Snow worked its way through her socks, but the sharp pain in one knee pulled at her focus. She’d hit something. Moving her knee, Glennon focused on the small metal pin reflecting the final stages of purple-and-blue Alaskan sunrise.

  An American flag pin.

  “You okay?” Anthony’s boots appeared in her peripheral vision as he closed in on her. “Did he hurt you?”

  A chill swept across her back the longer she studied the pin. “No. I’m...fine.”

  “Bastard disabled my security system. He ran into the tree line and doubled back.” Rage darkened Anthony’s voice as he crouched beside her. He lowered his voice. “I heard another gunshot.”

  “I shot at him.” Glennon curled her fingers into her palm, the sharp edge of the pin digging into her skin. She’d taken the shot. Shoving off the ground, she took a full breath of cold morning air to clear her head. Didn’t work. Nothing but tracking down her partner would. “We need to get to my barracks.”

  “Someone just attacked you. Every second you’re out in the open, you’re at risk.” Anthony raised the Beretta he’d relied on for so long, using it to point to the location the pickup—and their attacker—had disappeared. The furrow between his brows deepened as anger sparked in his eyes. “That sniper who put a bullet in your shoulder was a professional, sweetheart. That bastard who just bypassed my security system? A professional. These guys aren’t messing around. You’re not safe, and I will not lose you a second time.”

  Shock beat through her and Glennon swallowed hard. The swooping of a bald eagle along the tree line pulled her back into the moment. Her missing partner. The fact someone had broken into the cabin to threaten her. The shot she’d taken. “Then it’s a good thing I hired a Ranger to protect me.”

  “Glennon...” he said.

  No. They weren’t doing this. She couldn’t.

  “I hid the hard copies of the files that were deleted off my backup in my barracks.” She leveled her chin with the ground. Wood splintered off the spot where her bullet had penetrated the corner of the cabin. Her attacker was gone, his warning crystal-clear in her head. She tucked the combat blade into her left boot. Her hands shook, even with one wrapped around the grip of her gun, and before she understood what was happening, Anthony had encased them in his grasp. His heat penetrated the thick haze of her last few minutes.

  If she was being honest with herself, she’d missed this. Missed him. Because even though Anthony Harris had been nicknamed the Grim Reaper by his superiors, he’d always held the skills to bring her to life. Even after she wasn’t his anymore. She might’ve needed a bit of that warmth right now, but she slid her hands out of his. “We should get going.”

  Stepping away from her, Anthony extended his hand toward the cabin. It was hard to read his expression. Tight. Hollow. Jaw clenched. As though he were locking down the emotions burning through him as she had so many times around him. “Lead the way, Sergeant.”

  Sergeant. Not sweetheart.

  Glennon br
ushed past him, her stomach heavy. Her attacker had threatened her son. Wrong choice. He’d known who she was, knew of the people she cared about. He should’ve killed her when he’d had the chance. If anything happened to her son now, she wouldn’t hesitate like he had. A threat to back off the investigation and a single warning shot. That’d been it. He was lucky that was as far as it’d gotten. Still, none of it made sense.

  She froze.

  “He’s been watching me.” How else could her attacker have found her so quickly? The dull ache in her wrists from the gun’s kickback intensified as a shudder raced through her. The thought of being watched—stalked—tightened every muscle she had. What else had the intruder compiled on her? Her memory drifted to the conversation with her son. What was this guy willing to use against her to back off the search for her partner?

  She spun into Anthony. “Watching us.”

  “I will find him, Glennon.” The rage tightening the tendons between his neck and shoulders disintegrated the second he set sights on her, the growl from his voice disappearing. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid. He warned me to back off. He threatened me and the people I care about. If anybody is going to find him, it’s me.” The American flag pin in her pocket demanded attention. She rolled back her injured shoulder. Pain zinged through the wound like lightning, but it only solidified her determination and cleared her head. “I don’t care what that bastard said. Those files are the only lead to finding Bennett and putting an end to this nightmare. And I’m going to see this through to the end.”

  Chapter Five

  Her attacker had gotten close to her. Touched her.

  Pain radiated through Anthony’s knuckles and into his shoulders from his clenching his fists so hard. He didn’t care. He could’ve lost her this morning. Again.