Shuffling caught his attention. Cook leaped to his feet, hands free of his bindings. He charged toward the couple. Aubree jumped back and screamed. Linc lifted the gun and fired off a couple of rounds. Cook dropped to the dirt floor, writhing in pain. His hands clutched his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers.
Conrad noticed twine and a cut zip-tie on the ground. Cook must’ve freed them with his knife from his own ankle sheath. Habits are hard to break—no matter how much time out of the military.
Doc scrambled on her hands and feet toward Cook. Aubree sprang into action, grabbed Doc by the hair and yanked her away from Cook. Doc fell back, but finally found her feet with the help of Aubree pulling her up by her hair.
Conrad dropped Georgie’s lead. “Attack.” The dog took off at top speed, launched into the air, teeth bared. Instinctively, Aubree raised her arm for protection. Georgie sunk her teeth into her forearm. Aubree released her hold on Doc’s hair, and tried to shake free her arm from Georgie’s bite. Georgie would just as soon chew her own leg off than let go before Conrad gave the command.
Something fell to the ground at Aubree’s feet. Doc snatched it up. Taser. “Georgie, release,” Conrad hollered. The dog let go of her captive. Doc shoved the metal prongs into Aubree’s neck, and the woman flopped to the ground.
Out of the corner of Conrad’s eye, he saw the barrel of a gun aimed at Doc. Conrad bolted across the open space and tackled the man to the ground. The gun was waving through the air. Conrad feared the idiot would get a round off that would hit Doc or Georgie. Or himself. It would’ve been too much to hope the asshole would off himself or his fiancée from hell.
Conrad straddled the man, and wrapped his hands around the grip of the gun, securing Linc’s hand to it and making it impossible for him to pull the trigger. Twisting the gun around, Linc was either going to release it or risk his wrist snapping. Either way, Conrad would get the gun.
The man arched his back and tried to buck Conrad off. Conrad had enough of this prick. Raising his elbow, he slammed it into Linc’s nose. The crunch of bone was followed by the spurt of blood.
Linc relaxed his grip on the gun. Conrad grasped it in his hand and rested the end of the barrel against Linc’s forehead. It would be so easy to pull the trigger. The man was a threat. He had attempted to kill two people that afternoon. The world would be a better, safer place without him.
Conrad was hard-wired to eliminate threats. And there was no greater threat than one to Doc’s life.
Killing Linc wasn’t the answer. No way would he turn into the piece of shit under him. And he was not going to risk being sent to prison for murder. Conrad tossed the gun in his hand, grasping it by the barrel, and slamming the grip into Linc’s temple. His head fell to the side, and his body went limp. Removing Linc’s belt from his pants, Conrad rolled the man onto his stomach, and secured his hands behind him.
Doc was crouched at Cook’s side. She looked up at Conrad, stoic and focused. “Workbench.” She pointed behind Conrad. “Get me the rags in the bag on the shelf.” She turned her attention back to Cook.
Conrad jogged over to the bench and grabbed the bag. He glanced at Aubree, who was groaning and crying about her arm. Georgie stood guard over the woman, ready to pounce if she made an aggressive move toward any of them.
Doc snatched a few rags from the bag and pressed them into the left side of Cook’s chest. Cook placed his bloody hand over Doc’s. Watery, sad eyes, and a slight smile gazed at her. “Hey, Doc,” he said, his word slurred. “I found my purpose today. And I saved a life.”
Chapter 25
One week later…
* * *
Julie shifted in her seat. Anxiety riddled her body like a cancer. Halfway through the memorial service for Ron Cook, and she was still warring with herself over whether or not she should be there. If not for her, Ron Cook would still be alive.
I have a purpose…I saved a life…
His final words to her had been on a constant loop through her mind since that day in the barn, as she realized there was nothing she could do to save the man. And he knew it, too. His eyes smiled at her, as if he was finally happy and at peace with his life. After the amputation, he had struggled with more than the loss of his leg—he grieved for control over his own life. Some part of Julie had seen a glint in his eye that told her he was deciding to let go. To die in a manner he thought proper and fitting.
Conrad slid his hand against hers and squeezed. She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. God, what would she have done without him? Just being in his presence calmed her. Centered her. Gave her hope for the future.
And a renewed trust in love and second chances.
The service ended. Julie and Conrad stood and bowed their heads as the coffin passed down the aisle and out the door to the waiting hearse. Ron Cook had cut her bindings, charged a man with a gun, and taken a bullet meant for her.
He had done nothing wrong. He had not sent the final threatening letters to Julie, bombed her office, or tried to kill her. Had he wanted to make her life hell by the constant reminder that she had wronged him? Yes. But that was the extent of it.
Standing on the top of the stairs outside the church, Julie pulled her coat tighter as the wind kicked up around her. The first snow of the season was knocking at the door. The back door of the hearse closed. One of the pallbearers hit the roof and the vehicle slowly pulled away. Family only would make their way to the cemetery to say their final goodbye.
A man in a black suit climbed the steps toward them, his hand outstretched. “Are you Dr. Sutton?”
Her chest seized tightly. Cook’s father.
She shook his hand. “Yes, I am. I apologize if my presence here is upsetting to you and your family. I wanted to pay my respects to your son.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat and fought to retain control of her emotions. “I will be eternally grateful for what he did for me. I just wish I could done more for him.”
The man clasped her hand between both of his. “My dear, you have nothing to be sorry for. You saved him—twice—from what I understand. I realize he blamed you for the loss of his leg.” He held her gaze for a long moment. “We, however, did not. He was so angry and for some reason, his brain twisted the events around the amputation—and you became the easy target. We are the ones who owe you the apology.”
The words—the sentiment she found in this man’s eyes—nearly swallowed her in a sea of emotions. How could he be so accepting of her in the wake of his son’s death.
“If I had done more—at the end—I tried to stop the bleeding, but there was so much damage to his chest. There was nothing I could do.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, and trailed down her cheeks.
Mr. Cook shook his head. “We knew we would never see him alive when he left this last time. He was always taking off, and would be gone for a week or two at a time. It had been months since he had even mentioned your name, so we thought our prayers had been answered and he had moved on. But when he left last week, he left a note explaining that he had to find his purpose. We had no idea what that meant, but suspected he was not coming home again.
“When the sheriff showed up at the house, we were not surprised Ron was…gone. What made it easier to take was hearing about what he had done for you. You saved a lost, wandering soul, Dr. Sutton. And released him in a way that was honorable. Thank you.”
The man opened his arms, and Julie stepped into his embrace. She had not expected to be accepted or welcomed by the family. She had hoped to remain in the background and leave town without anyone knowing she had been there until they looked at the guest book. But here was this man, comforting her. Thanking her, when she was alive because his son was brave and selfless.
After a moment, Julie gathered her emotions, and wiped the tears from her face. Mr. Cook shook Conrad’s hand, and then descended the stairs and climbed into the black limousine that would take him and the rest of the Cook family to the cemetery.
Conrad wrapped his arm aro
und her waist and pulled her close into his side. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he asked, “You okay?”
Julie nodded, and looked at him. God, she loved gazing into his eyes.
“Let’s go home.”
* * *
Conrad slid behind the wheel of Doc’s Land Rover. The weather had dropped about twenty degrees since they had left a couple of days ago, and it was downright frigid.
Doc laughed at something on her phone. “Aww, look at Georgie and Six.” The two dogs were snuggled up on a large dog bed at Kujo’s house. They looked quite content, and Conrad figured Georgie would be okay spending another night away. He wasn’t into all the mushy bullshit Doc ooh’d and ahh’d over, but he had to admit the way the two dogs seemed to have coupled up was cute.
Cute? When the hell had he started using words like cute?
Once they were out of the parking lot and on the highway heading to Eagle Rock, Conrad took a deep breath. He had been trying to get up the nerve to have this conversation with her, but had pussied out before he had even started.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said.
“What’s up?”
“I’m going back to Chicago next week.”
The air stilled. Silence hung heavy between them. Doc cleared her throat. “Okay, are you coming back?”
“I’m planning on it,” he said. “Whatever this is between us seems worth exploring, and that’s going to be a whole lot easier if I am not several states away from you.”
“What are you going to do—are you going to go to work for Hank?”
The thought had occurred to Conrad, but was just as quickly dismissed. There was no way he was strong enough to hold a weapon in his right hand, let alone use it against anyone. There was some proficiency in his left hand, but there were also too many things that could go wrong. Where once he knew he could hit a target with a high degree of proficiency without even thinking about it, now, he had to really concentrate on making sure he could hit where he was aiming. That level of concentration meant he was not able to focus on other things—things that could get him or his brothers killed.
“There’s too much uncertainty to go into that type of business. Nothing against Hank or any of the guys that work for him, but I don’t really see myself doing personal security.”
“Do you have something in mind that you would like to do, or are you just going to kind of see how things go?”
Is she afraid I’m just looking for someone to mooch off? That I just want a sugar momma?
Conrad gazed at her for a moment. Her long blonde hair glistened like spun gold. She was smiling, and the happiness he saw reached into her beautiful, warm eyes.
“Not that I think you need to know what you want to do right away—take as long as you need to figure it out—just curious if you had any thoughts.”
“Funny you should ask. I had an idea that just won’t let go, and I think I’d like to see if I can give it a go.”
“Tell me!” She shifted in her seat to face him, excitement shimmering in her eyes.
“I want to train military and law enforcement dogs.”
Doc was still, but he could tell her mind was going a hundred miles an hour. His breathing sped up. He really wanted her to be on board with the idea. She would be able to help him with starting up a business. But she was going to be busy trying to get her own practice back up and running.
Maybe I should dedicate my time to helping her, and worry about my business later?
She reached over and grabbed his hand in hers. “I think that is a fabulous idea. You are amazing with Georgie, and I know you will be the best trainer there is. The military will get all their dogs from you—and law enforcement.”
Conrad chuckled. “Well, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. I still have to find a place that has enough land to properly train and exercise the dogs. And I’ll probably need to build a kennel to house them.”
“I know the perfect place.”
“You do? Is it affordable?”
“I’m pretty sure the owner will be happy to work with you as you get the business up and going.”
Conrad’s heart pounded in his chest. The idea was starting to shift into a plan, and for the first time since he was discharged, he was optimistic about a new career. “Where is it? In town?”
“It’s my place.”
He shook his head. “No.” She had already done so much for him.
“Why not? There are ten acres not being used. You can convert the barn into kennels—it’s perfect. And it is not being utilized at all. In fact, I had thought about selling the place at one time after Linc and I separated because I felt like it was a waste not using the land for something.”
She squeezed his hand. “Promise me you will at least consider it. I would love to help you get your business going.”
No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he should refuse, his mind was already conjuring images of what could be. Preparing a list of what he needed to tackle first to convert the barn. “I will. Honestly, I can’t think of a better place to have it. I love the idea.”
“Good, because I plan on keeping you around for a while.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. I’m pretty sure I’m head-over-heels in love with you.”
“Well, damn, about time you caught up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for a while.”
“A while? And just when did you fall in love with me?”
“The day you kicked me out of your exam room.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “You had me at insubordination, Doc.”
Acknowledgments
Every book is a labor of love, but the best love stories have their share of ups and downs. What gets an author through the bumps and bruises of producing a story and characters people will fall in love with are the many helping hands, shoulders to cry on, and kicks in the asses along the way. Big thanks go to my sprinting buddies, Melinda, Selena, Jill, and Kendra, who motivate me to keep my behind in the chair and fingers on the keyboard. The team at Buoni Amici Press, who handle, well—everything that involves marketing my books and getting them into readers hands. A special shout out to Drue Hoffman, PA extraordinaire, who is also the best cover designer and artist out there. My covers are epic. My editor, MJ Price, who has stopped asking me how soon I need something back and assumes everything is in “rush” status. To my family and friends who continue to support me in my dreams. To all the bloggers and reviewers who read, review, and talk about my books, a big warm, fuzzy hug to you. Most of all, thanks to all the readers who buy my books. I am nothing without you.
About the Author
Born and raised in the Rocky Mountains, Anne L. Parks has spent the last 28 years moving all over the United States. Married to the Navy – well a Commander in the Navy – Parks has lived in various locales throughout the United States. She currently resides in the Washington D.C area. When not writing, she spends her time reading, doing yoga, mountain biking, and keeping track of four kids and a very spoiled rescue German Shepherd. And drinking wine.
Author of nine novels (Tri-Stone Trilogy, Return To Me series, and Strangers) and four novellas that have been published in anthologies, she loves to create stories with mystery, plenty of twists and turns, and loaded with suspense.
With a military husband, it was only a matter of time before she broke into the military romantic suspense genre, where she feels right at home amongst highly trained, somewhat jaded, ready to take out terrorists alpha males and the strong, brave women who love them. Parks first military romance, MIA, went to #1 on Amazon’s Kindle World. Thirteen more books will be released in her new series The 13. Two other series are being planned.
Also by Anne L. Parks
The 13 Series
•Mia
•Ritt - Coming January 23, 2018
The Return Series
•The Return
•Return To Newport
•Lauren’s Return
•Returning Home
•RSVP
The Tri-Stone Trilogy
•Of Demons & Stones
•Revenge
•Vindication
Stand Alone’s & Anthologies
•Strangers
•Retribution, A Silent Cove Novel
•Celebrate - A Love Brothers Anthology (No longer available)
•Elementals (No longer available)
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