“No!” Jonna screamed. No, no, no. Ian!
Oh, God, no! Please, God, no...
She’d made out his form, whirling around as someone approached from behind. Sparks. She’d seen blue sparks—a Taser? Then he’d been shoved off the cliff.
A fist squeezed her heart and wouldn’t let go. But she had to keep moving. She had to finish this. She fought the weakness in her trembling knees. Resisted the need to crumble to the ground. To rail at God. This had happened to Ian because of her. But she couldn’t wallow in the pain and guilt. Not yet. So what if her heart ached so much the pain was physical?
She turned on her flashlight as she pointed her Sig.
How had the man gotten the best of Ian? How had he come around behind him? She crept forward along the edge.
She could see him standing there. Waiting for her? Was this a trap? She aimed her weapon and fired multiple times. He disappeared from sight, but had she shot him? Her gut told her no.
Waves crashed angrily against the rocks below, drawing her thoughts back to Ian. Images of his broken body accosted her. If she actually saw them instead of just picturing them in her head, they would fracture her. No. She had to hold it together and get this guy. Get justice for Ian. But she couldn’t make it all the way across so close to the cliff’s edge. It was much too dangerous, and she was much too angry—crushed, more like—to be as careful as she would need to be.
Jonna made her way back the other way. She would find this jerk. He wouldn’t leave after taking down Ian. Jonna was the one he wanted.
Well come and get me!
“Come and get me!” She yelled out loud this time. The waves and wind would probably prevent anyone from hearing her, but she willed him to come after her and this time, she was prepared. She would take him down.
Furious tears blurred her vision, making the path more treacherous. She pushed them back, fighting to rein in her feelings. She’d been a cop once. She mustered all of her experience, all her skills to face off with this man. Ian—if he was still alive—would be furious if she let her emotions put her at risk.
Maybe...maybe she shouldn’t confront the attacker, just for Ian’s sake. No. That was fear and cowardice talking.
Wind battered her against the windows of the lodge as she moved. She could make out the dying embers in the huge fireplace of the common area, but no one was up at this hour of the morning. Perhaps even the gunfire hadn’t woken them, but had been absorbed by the wind.
Before she reached the corner, she pressed her back against the wall. Fear and grief squeezed her lungs. She couldn’t get enough air. She shut her eyes and sent up a silent prayer for help as she sucked in a breath. Readying her weapon, she whipped around the corner, hoping for a reason to shoot.
The light at the lodge’s entrance was out. But the security lamp in the parking lot remained on, allowing her to see the silhouette of a man standing there. He took a step toward her. Then another step, and another.
Until he marched toward her.
“Stop! Or I’ll shoot.”
He didn’t think she would?
Then something flashed in his eyes. Unintentional telegraphing, indicating that someone was behind her. Her heart dropped to her feet even as she whipped her gun around.
Another man stood far too close. She kicked the Taser out of his hand and started to aim her gun, but the man had a hundred pounds on her in muscle, and knocked the weapon away before she could act. He tried to punch her, but she ducked.
Run. You can’t fight both of them!
Jonna elbowed the man in the nose. Kneed him in his crotch. And turned to face off with the other one.
He’d closed in on them and used the opening to punch her in the face.
Pain ignited. Flashes of light swam across her vision. Rough arms grabbed her and lifted her. A dazed confusion gripped her thoughts. She didn’t fall into unconsciousness, but the men carrying her seemed to believe she’d blacked out.
She could use that to her advantage.
But she had to wait for the right moment. They reached the sand. Cold, salty ocean spray soaked them all. The brute who carried her tossed her body onto the wet beach. Maybe they would leave her there so the ocean would simply wash her away, believing she would drown.
But no.
She was wrong.
The criminal moved toward her in such a way, with a leer on his face. Jonna fisted sand and shoved to her feet. She tossed the handful in his face and turned to run. The other attacker caught her and slammed her to the ground.
Jonna would die fighting.
She shoved to her feet and rammed into him, amazed that she managed to push the two-hundred-pound brute to the ground. He must have lost his footing in the sand.
Jonna was used to jogging on this beach and was in shape. Those were her only advantages. She took off running. Fire lit her whole body up. Muscles seized as she was attacked with the Taser. She fell face-first into the sand.
I’m going to die on this beach tonight.
No one would ever find her after the storm. Her body was rolled over.
The smaller one stood over her then. His eyes gazing down at her. And it all came back to her. The face. The images. Everything from Miami. She recognized those eyes.
She knew the man.
He’d left her for dead before. She was sure that he wouldn’t make that mistake twice.
* * *
Charging through the wet sand with his only weapon—a length of driftwood—Ian slammed it into the back of one gunman’s head. The would-be killer dropped to the ground. Seawater washed up and over him.
Another figure stood over Jonna, a gun in his hand. He aimed it at her face.
“Jonna!” Ian called. Move. Kick, he silently pleaded with her. Do something. But she lay there. Ian pushed his feet faster. Harder.
God, please help me make it in time.
What was the guy doing? Talking to her?
No time to think or care. He shoved into the man, knocking him face-first into the sand. Ian smashed the assailant’s gun-wielding wrist with the driftwood. Cold waves washed the gun away as they splashed over them. The attacker grabbed Ian’s throat. Ian pressed the driftwood against the criminal under him.
Which one of them would win?
The tide was coming in and another breaker slammed into them, tearing them apart. Hadn’t he been through this before? But right now it was pitch-black on the beach, and he struggled to get his bearings. Prayed for a sliver of moonlight.
A flashlight beam shone bright.
Jonna. She directed the light so he could see the two men running away. “Cowards!” Come back here. Ian started to give chase. He wished for his weapon. He hadn’t finished with them. He wanted, needed this to stop, to end right here tonight on this beach.
Jonna still lay in the sand. Waves would take her if she didn’t get up and move. She must be injured.
He ran back to her. Dropped to his knees. The flashlight rested in the sand where she dropped it and provided just enough light for him to see her face was bruised and bloodied. And Ian’s heart was crushed at the sight, the pieces clanking around inside him.
He cupped her face in his hands and peered at her, looking into her dazed eyes. “I’m here, Jonna. You’re going to be okay.”
I told you, I’m a protector. But he hadn’t protected her.
She didn’t answer him, didn’t show any signs that she had even heard him. He scooped her up into his arms. Strong Jonna, letting him do it. She was almost like a rag doll, dead weight in his arms, though her eyes remained opened.
What had they done to her?
The ocean took the flashlight, and wrapped around him up to his knees. It could have taken her so easily. He carried her forward and toward where he knew the staircase to the lodge to be.
Their plan had backfired so completely he wasn’t sure how either of them had survived. He repositioned her in his arms, making sure her head rested against his shoulder. He had to make it up the slippery steps in the dark, so he gripped the rail as he held on to her and hiked up the steps. He couldn’t know if the men would wait for them at the top.
God, help me know what to do.
I’ve failed so utterly tonight. I failed to protect her.
But even so, he wouldn’t let go. How could he just walk away? He wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t stop now unless she pushed him away. At the entrance to the lodge he rang the doorbell. Lisa let them in, a look of shock on her face. “What happened?” she asked.
He gave her a stern look. “You’re to tell no one. No guests should know about this.”
“I’ll call the sheriff.”
“No,” Jonna said. “I’ll... I’ll call him.”
Ian carried her down the hallway and unlocked the door to his own quarters. He considered taking her directly to his SUV and driving straight to the hospital, and maybe he would do that later, after they’d both had a minute to pull themselves together.
He kicked the door shut behind him. He didn’t set her on the sofa, but instead eased both of them onto it, still cradling her in his arms. She didn’t push away, but stayed there, seemingly content to be held by him.
“I need to take you to the hospital now.”
“No. I won’t go.” Her voice was soft. Weak. He hated hearing her like this. “Just hold me.”
Maybe she didn’t want the word to get out. Or maybe this was the life she’d built and she refused to let these brutes take that from her. On some deep level, Ian understood—and he would give her that. It was her decision, after all.
They sat on the sofa together. Dawn came and went. Gray light of a stormy morning filtered through the mini blinds. Had she drifted to sleep? He wasn’t sure. His body was bruised and aching, and he was sure she experienced the same pain. He would take it from her if he could.
Oh, God, please, let me take it from her. Let me protect her. Get this guy. Stop him. A quiet sob caught in his throat. Why am I even here? She needs someone stronger, someone better than me.
“Thank you, Ian.” Her voice croaked. “You...you saved me again.” Tears choked her words.
He never wanted to see her or hear her like this again. Never again. This wasn’t the Jonna he knew.
“I didn’t protect you.”
“You saved my life—for not the first time. But...” She shifted away from his shoulder to look in his eyes, her face bruised. He wanted to reach up and gently touch the skin where those men had hurt her. Pain radiated over his body at the sight of her battered face.
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I saw you fall. I thought you were dead.”
“I thought I was dead too. I landed on a tuft of land, a terrace hinging on the cliffside. After the Taser effects wore off, I climbed up in time to see them carrying you down the steps.”
Her face—so beautiful even bruised—inched closer. Her warm breath feathered his skin. Her soft lips drew him. What would it be like to kiss her, to cherish her in his arms even for one moment? But that could go nowhere. Focus on her eyes, man. Not her lips. Tears clung to her lashes. “I couldn’t let them get away with this,” he said. “But they almost did. Jonna, I’m so—”
She pulled him closer and pressed her lips into his. He couldn’t resist when Jonna kissed him, her lips sweet against his own. Emotion poured from her in this one simple act. Was this gratitude on her part? No, it was much more. When she eased back he deepened the kiss. He didn’t want it to end, but she broke away enough to whisper, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He didn’t want to need this woman. God, help me! But he would kiss her back if that’s what she wanted. He would kiss her as long as she’d let him. He sensed that both of them knew there could never be more between them and because of that, this kiss was bittersweet.
They were two of a kind.
And they were both broken.