“I hired someone to drop me off. I . . . I don’t drive right now.” He couldn’t. Not with the medication he was taking as he tried to manage his symptoms.
She stared at him still, as if trying to decide her next course of action. Finally, she released a long breath and crossed her slender arms. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on. But I don’t want any part of it. I’m going to finish cooking this meal, and then I’m gone. I’m out of your hair. I’ll just have to tell Ty that it didn’t work out for me to play hostess.”
Regret panged inside Braden again. He really knew how to mess things up, didn’t he? He could have easily hurt this woman. No, done more than hurt her. Thank God, he hadn’t. “I understand.”
She hurried back to the kitchen and scraped some veggies and chicken strips into a bowl filled with pasta. She furiously began stirring the food before shoveling it all into a casserole dish.
Braden took a step back and raked a hand through his hair. He’d never intended on scaring an innocent woman. If only his brain worked the way it used to. If only war hadn’t messed him up and changed him into a different person from the one he’d once been. On his off time, he used to enjoy football, and fishing, and tailgate parties. Now, his life centered around simply functioning.
He’d hoped coming here to Lantern Beach might help him to see things more clearly.
And buy him some more time before danger came knocking again.
His shoulders slumped.
How was he going to explain this to Ty? He’d trusted Braden with his home and . . . well, Braden had nearly gone off the deep end and hurt one of Ty’s friends.
He glanced across the room to the kitchen. Lisa continued working, adding some freshly grated cheese to the top of a casserole dish. It was a wonder she hadn’t fled—but based on her tight, jerky actions, she still might.
The petite woman had some fire in her—and some stick-to-itiveness. Her hair swished around her shoulders as she worked, her trim figure moving with confidence, like she knew exactly what she was doing.
“So, you were a Navy SEAL?” Lisa’s voice didn’t sound especially friendly, more like she was going through the motions of being polite as she hurried through her tasks so she could leave as quickly as possible. Or maybe she was trying to gauge just how dangerous he was.
Which was understandable after what Braden had just done.
“No, not a SEAL,” he said, his voice dull. He leaned against the counter, a comfortable distance away. “I was Special Forces.”
She stole a skeptical glance over her shoulder. “There’s a difference?”
Braden shrugged, heaviness still surrounding him as he thought about his past and the problems that had led him to where he was today. “Yeah, actually, there is.”
He’d done special assignments. Some of them off the books. And usually he worked solo.
His whole military career had been complicated, so it only made sense that his war injuries were equally as complex. He’d perplexed all the professionals who’d tried to treat him.
Lisa looked over her shoulder as she placed some of her dishes into the soapy water filling the sink. “That just needs to bake for about twenty minutes so all the cheese melts together. Then you can eat, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Before Braden could say anything else, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen.
People can run but they can’t hide. Wise people watch their backs. Revenge is within reach.
Chapter Two
Lisa leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath. Blood still pulsed through her, rushing with adrenaline-fueled intensity. Yes, her day had gotten worse.
First, she’d been bemoaning her love life. Then John had insulted her talent. Now this man had threatened her physical well-being.
That pretty much covered everything and hit on every important facet of her life, other than her faith.
She glanced over her shoulder. Braden had disappeared several minutes ago after his phone had buzzed. Not only that, but his face had gone pale. Had something else triggered him? Would Bruce Banner become the Incredible Hulk and nearly kill her again?
She shuddered.
Just what was this guy’s story?
It didn’t matter. She was just glad Braden had disappeared for a moment. Lisa could use the space. They’d attempted small talk, but it had been awkward at best. What she really wanted was to get out of here.
She should have left after he released her from the chokehold. So why hadn’t she? Because she liked to finish what she started and didn’t want to waste food? She knew that wasn’t it.
More likely it was because, beneath Braden’s abrupt reaction to seeing her, something about the man looked so lost and bewildered and genuinely confused. Lisa’s mom had always told her that having such a soft heart for people would be the death of her. Maybe her mom was right.
Ten minutes later, Braden emerged from the back. His timing was perfect—the casserole had just come out. Lisa could serve it, and her job was done. She’d be out of here soon.
Braden quietly sat at the table with no explanation about his disappearance.
Lisa plated a piece of the pasta dish and pushed it across the kitchen table to Braden. “Here you go. Now that the food is ready, I’m going to run. I hope you get some rest and find what you’re looking for here.”
She heard how fast her words came out and cringed. She wouldn’t earn any acting awards, but she didn’t care. Her life had flashed before her eyes earlier. She didn’t want any repeats.
As she turned to walk away, Braden touched her wrist—only lightly, thank goodness. Because Lisa was ready to flee. To run fast and hard. To chew out her friends for ever asking her to do this. The man’s touch only drove home that point even more.
As his hand remained at her wrist, her breath caught with trepidation. Lisa’s gaze flickered to Braden. To his square face. His light brown hair that was damp and tousled. To the barely there beard that actually just might be the result of not shaving for a day instead of following a trend. His eyes were brown, his brow seemed permanently set in contemplation, and his skin seemed like it should be darker, tanner than it was.
What kind of secrets was this man hiding?
“Listen, I really am sorry.” Braden’s voice sounded hoarse with regret as he dragged his gaze up to hers.
Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but her mind went blank. What should she say? She wasn’t ready yet to tell him everything was okay and he was forgiven. Instead, she pulled away from his touch and stepped toward the door.
“Have a good evening, Braden.”
Once Lisa was out of Ty’s house and standing on the screened-in porch, she released the breath she held. She paused long enough to let the cold air slap some sense into her.
It seemed so unlike Ty and Cassidy to put her in a situation like that. Her friends were good people—the kind who looked out for her best interests. What had gone wrong?
She wasn’t going to stick around any longer to ponder it. No, she wanted to get far away from Braden Dillinger—for good. She had enough to worry about without adding him to her list.
Lisa hurried back to her car, climbed inside, and hit the locks.
But before she pulled out, she grabbed her phone and dialed Ty’s number. She hated to interrupt him on his trip, but . . . she couldn’t let this slide.
“Hey, Lisa,” Ty answered. “What’s going on?”
The former Navy SEAL was tougher than nails yet the all-American boy next door, rolled into one. Lisa was so glad he’d found Cassidy. The two were obviously meant for each other.
She licked her lips, still in shock. “Hey, sorry for the intrusion. But I just met your friend.”
“Braden? He’s a great guy, isn’t he?” Ty’s voice sounded sincere. Which only added to her confusion.
Great guy wasn’t exactly how Lisa would describe Braden. “I thought he was going to kill me. Like, literally kill me, not the cute l
ittle expression people use when someone’s really mad at them.”
She felt the need to throw that last part in, just to clarify.
“What?” Ty’s voice rose with surprise.
“He put me in a chokehold.” Lisa cringed as she remembered the feeling of Braden’s thick arm around her neck. The man was large—in height and stature. He was practically made of strapping muscles that were designed for destruction or protection. She wasn’t sure which.
Her bets were on destruction right now.
If he hadn’t snapped back to his senses when he did, the man could have killed her. The thought kept slamming back into Lisa’s mind, as if she could forget.
“That doesn’t sound like the Braden I know.” Ty lowered his voice with regret. “I knew he had issues, but not those kinds of issues. If I had any idea . . . I’m so sorry, Lisa. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. He said he thought I was an intruder. I didn’t even know he was there. There was no car out front or anything.” The whole story sounded strange and far-fetched. But it really had happened. Lisa guessed that would teach her to go into someone else’s house with too many assumptions.
“He’s a good guy,” Ty said. “But I know he wanted to come here to get away from things. Maybe something changed since I saw him last. Maybe the things he wanted to get away from were more serious than he let on.”
“Maybe,” Lisa muttered, trying to shut out her compassion.
“Either way, don’t worry about acting as hostess. Braden can fend for himself, okay?”
“Got it.” That worked for her because she had no desire to interact with the man again. “Anyway—have fun. Tell Cassidy hello.”
“I will. Thanks again, Lisa.”
After she ended the call, Lisa leaned back into her seat.
She needed to get home and far away from this Braden guy. She wasn’t thinking clearly.
As she put her car in reverse, she paused.
Was that a shadow moving on the dune outside Ty’s place?
Lisa couldn’t be sure. It was so dark out there.
No . . . she squinted. There it was again.
It was definitely a shadow.
Braden, she realized. Braden must have gone outside. Was he watching her now? Planning another surprise attack?
Her heart throbbed in her ears, and all her muscles tightened at the thought.
Lisa had to get out of here before he saw her again and got any ideas.
She zoomed from the driveway.
Good riddance.
If she never saw that man again, it would be too soon.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Braden moved away from the window, where he’d watched the car pull down the street. Lisa. That poor woman. He’d scared the daylights out of her. Regret bit deep. “I don’t know what happened.”
“What’s going on?” Ty asked on the other end of the phone line. “It doesn’t even sound like you to do something like that.”
Braden raked a hand through his hair as he remembered the encounter. “I have no idea. I just . . . I thought someone had broken into the house, and I reacted. I reacted poorly. I feel terrible about it.”
“Are you still having memory problems, Braden?” Ty’s voice dipped lower.
“Yeah, I am. I’m hoping some time away from the stress at home will help. That’s what my therapist said, at least.”
“Is there anything you’re not telling me?”
Braden ground his teeth together in thought. It wasn’t fair that he’d kept his friend in the dark about the threats against him. But he’d really thought that by coming here, he’d be getting away from those concerns.
“Members of The Revolt have been threatening me.”
“The Revolt? That’s the terrorist group you helped to take down.”
“I know. And word has it that my name leaked to them. The few remaining members are trying to find me and exact revenge.”
“What? How would they have gotten your name?”
“Maybe we have a leak. Who knows.”
“Why do you think they’re after you?”
“Someone’s been sending me threatening text messages.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“They can’t trace the number.”
“Is that it?”
Braden squeezed his eyes shut. “Someone tried to run me off the road also, and my bank account was drained.”
“Braden . . . why didn’t you tell me?”
He rubbed his temple, feeling the beginning of a headache. “Because I feel like I’m losing my mind. Just when I start thinking clearly . . . something else happens and everything feels fuzzy. I’m a soldier, Ty. I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself. But I can’t even prove these guys are behind this or that these threats are even real and not my imagination.”
“Are you still seeing your therapist?”
“I am. I’m trying to back off. I want to move on, Ty.”
“I can understand that. Just don’t move on too early.”
“Yeah, I know.” You can’t rush healing. That’s what Braden’s therapist always reminded him. “Either way, I don’t think anyone followed me here. I tried to cover all my tracks. I really just wanted to get away from trouble . . . I hope I didn’t bring it with me.”
“I hope you didn’t either. In the meantime, I don’t want Lisa going back to the house. Not if that might happen again.”
“I totally understand. And I’m real sorry about your friend. She seemed nice.” It didn’t matter how many times Braden said it, it would never be enough.
“Lisa’s one of the nicest people you’ll meet. Anyway, call me if you need me, Braden. Or you can call my friends Austin or Wes. They said they would be there. I left their numbers on the fridge.”
“Got it. I appreciate everything.”
Braden ended the call and walked toward the window again. The dish Lisa had so carefully prepared sat cold on the table. He didn’t have the appetite to eat right now.
His chest roiled with unrest. This wasn’t what he wanted for his trip here. No, Braden had visions of embracing peace and relaxation. Of coming to terms with his life. He still had hope that things would change.
But that was looking less and less likely.
He continued to peer outside, trying to put that text out of his mind.
People can run but they can’t hide. Wise people watch their backs. Revenge is within reach.
He really had gotten that text, hadn’t he? Or had he imagined that also?
The weight of his memory problems hung heavy on his shoulders and on his mind. Most days, he tried his best to push through. But, at times, he let his mind wander to the future. When he thought about spending the rest of his life like this, despair began to consume him. He couldn’t handle the thought that there might not be an end in sight. And he felt like hope was slipping further and further away with every moment his problems continued.
Movement outside caught his eye.
Was someone out there on the dunes in the distance?
Was it Lisa? Had she come back for some reason? No, he would have heard her car. Seen the headlights.
His muscles tightened even more.
The text echoed in his mind again. Revenge is within reach.
Had the person trying to kill him found him here? Was this the place whoever was threatening him would end it all?
Maybe that was the perfect plan on his enemy’s part. Here, no one would miss Braden for days. Maybe not even after that—not until Ty arrived back home.
The shadow moved again, the motion so subtle that Braden wondered if the wind had simply shifted something on the dune. But he knew that wasn’t the case.
Braden pulled his gun from his waistband—he’d grabbed it from his suitcase after he’d gotten the text—and he stepped onto the screened-in porch. “Who’s out there?”
No one responded.
“Who is it?” he asked again. “I know you’re there.”
The shadow mo
ved one more time.
Before he could find the source of his unease again, something loud popped beside him. Again. And again. And again.
And suddenly, Braden felt like he was back on the battlefield.
Chapter Three
Lisa sat on her couch with a cup of tea beside her, a blanket over her, and a book in hand.
Her concentration was shot. All she could think about was the feel of Braden’s arm around her neck. The fleeting fear that her life could end. The memory of the sheer power in the man’s muscles.
She tried to stop replaying it. She really did. But her thoughts wouldn’t cooperate.
Just as she lowered her book, ready to admit defeat, her phone buzzed. She looked down at the screen and read a text message from her friend Skye.
Did you meet your prince charming tonight?
Lisa let out a quick laugh and rolled her eyes before typing back: Not quite.
Ever since Skye had found true love, she was determined that Lisa would be next. She’d been wrong on this one. Really wrong.
I heard about John, Skye texted.
Lisa frowned.
Great. Word had gotten around town about their exchange in the general store earlier.
Ever since the Crazy Chefette had been named one of the Ten Most Fun Restaurants on the North Carolina Coast, John had been determined to let her know any praise the critics had given her had been wrong.
Lisa texted: Yeah, it wasn’t fun.
Skye texted again: John’s a jerk. We’ll have to chat about it more tomorrow. But don’t worry about him in the meantime. He just wants attention.
Will do, Lisa typed back. Talk more tomorrow.
Lisa put her phone down, pulled up the blanket around her, and took another sip of her tea.
She glanced around her cozy apartment. It was located in the space above the Crazy Chefette, and she loved it here. Dark brown beams crossed overhead, complimenting the intricate woodwork around the windows and the rich wood paneling on the ceiling.
The place was by no means modern or updated. But Lisa still liked it. The building had been a Coast Guard station at one time. Now the bottom floor was her restaurant and the second story her home.
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