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CHAPTER 2

KNOX

What would I do without friends and video games?

Well.

Without World of Warcraft , and my friend, Gage, to play with me, I’d spend a lot more nights staring at the ceiling or watching mindless infomercials while my nightmares keep me from sleep.

I’d torture myself with memories of losses and what-ifs, instead of flying across a vast countryside on a flying mount, chatting with Gage over the best strategy to complete our next quest.

One is more real than I’d like it to be, the other rooted in fantasy.

My days are spent dealing with reality—the day-to-day routine of running my construction company, fulfilling my obligations to Green Mountain Guardians, and spending time with my friends when I have the time. That’s not even including the yard work and never-ending projects at my own house; it seems like as soon as one’s done, another one pops up right after it.

But I don’t mind. I like being busy.

When I first left the Army, I felt adrift. Even though I knew it was time to move on, it was hard leaving my best friends, the years of structure, and the sense of purpose our missions gave me. I wondered if I could be satisfied living back in Vermont after two decades away, no longer the Green Beret I’d prided myself on being, but a civilian again.

At first, it was tough. The farmhouse I bought from my old friend, Tom, was in much worse shape than I remembered it being. The first night here, I woke to raccoons in the attic and a leak in the bathroom, followed by a minor electrical fire in the kitchen the next morning.

Tom hadn’t lied about the house’s condition when he called me with the offer to sell. He knew I was separating from the Army in a couple of months, once my contract was up, so rather than sell his home to a stranger, he wanted to give me the chance to buy it first.

“I know you used to love this house,” he said. “And since you haven’t picked a spot to land after Fort Campbell yet… Well, I thought this might be a sign. I’m tired of the winters here, Knox. Too much snow. Too cold. So I’m moving to Florida. So I thought… you might want to buy this place from me. It’s not in the best shape, and I’m not asking a lot for it, but I know you could fix it up, if you wanted to.”

I agreed with him. It did seem like a sign. That maybe it was time to finally come home .

Those first few months, though? I wasn’t as sure.

I missed my teammates badly. I missed being on a team. The solitude that came with living in the woods of Vermont gave me too much time to think. The idea of starting over in a new career was overwhelming.

There were nights when I was certain I’d made a terrible decision.

But I stuck it out, because one thing I’m not is a quitter.

Two years later, I don’t have any regrets.

I fixed up the farmhouse, even better than it had been when Tom lived here. I started my own business, which has turned out to be more successful than I ever anticipated. I found friends—some of them even former military, like me. And I discovered I enjoy small-town, rural life even more than I did when I was growing up here. Back then, I thought it was stifling. Now I find comfort in it.

Then the newest and most exciting thing. The Green Mountain Guardians. As a part of the private security team formed by my Army buddy, Enzo, it gives me back the last piece I was missing. Now I’m part of a team again. I have a reason to keep up my skills. And through our pro-bono work, it allows me to make a difference.

If I had to use a word to describe my life right now, I’d say I’m content.

Do I wonder if there’s still more out there for me? A girlfriend? A wife? A family?

Sometimes.

Then again, I have so much going on already. Do I really have the time or emotional energy to give to a woman? Would it be fair to burden her with my sleepless nights and the guilt I still carry from those last months in the Army?

More importantly, is there even one out there I’d consider opening up to?

Maybe. If my intriguing and beautiful neighbor, Lark, was interested, I might. But she’s never given me a sign she wants anything more than friendship.

“Hey, Knox. You awake over there?”

Gage’s voice comes over my headset, jolting me from my wandering thoughts. I blink at the monitor, realizing I’m stalled halfway across the zone while my mount flaps idly, waiting for me. Gage’s character is a tiny dot in the distance, and I watch as he reverses course to head back toward me.

“Sorry,” I reply, shaking my head even though he can’t see. “My mind drifted for a second.”

His laughing tone sobers immediately. “Everything okay?” Because Gage is former Army and knows how powerful and sticky memories can be. Considering we’re both up past midnight playing an online video game instead of sleeping, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think that my nightmare from earlier is still affecting me.

Not this time, though. Fortunately. “I’m good,” I reassure him. “Really.”

“Alright.” There’s still a hint of skepticism in his voice. “But you know… if you ever want to talk instead of playing WoW… I’m here.”

“I know. And right back at you.” After a beat, I readjust my headset and add with a smile, “But seriously, I’m fine. Good to go. ”

“Good.” Gage’s mount performs an acrobatic flip in the air before speeding off across the virtual countryside. “Let’s do this.”

As I command my mount to follow him, he says, “So I’ve been thinking about the quest. For the final boss, if you stun him as soon as we get into his room, I can throw all my debuffs at him before he gets a shot off. Then we can take turns rooting and stunning while the other blows through our spells.”

Leaning back in my computer chair, I grab my bottle of water and take a sip before replying, “That sounds good. I just upgraded my root spell, so it should last at least five seconds.”

“Nice.” Gage pauses. “I’ve been thinking about asking my buddy, Webb, to join us some nights. If that’s okay with you? You remember him, right?”

“Of course.” Webb was a Night Stalker, just like Gage, and they were both based at Fort Campbell at the same time I was there. “I like Webb. He’s welcome to join anytime.”

“Great. I’ll let him know.” After a beat, he adds, “He’s been having a rough time lately. Some old memories coming to the surface again. I was talking to him the other day and mentioned that we play online sometimes when it’s too hard to sleep. He thought it sounded like a good idea.”

On the screen, a dungeon looms in front of me, with a trio of orcs in studded armor standing guard in front of it. Changing topics, I say, “Do you want to take the right, I’ll take left, and I can root the center?”

“Sure. Land by the tree so we can buff before attacking? ”

“Affirmative.” A tingle of anticipation moves in my belly. Not exactly a real battle, or even close, but my body can’t help reacting. “Once we take them out, we can invis up?—”

A sharp sound interrupts me.

A crack.

Not overly loud, but like it’s coming from a distance.

Like it’s coming from somewhere outside.

While someone who hasn’t spent the last twenty years in the Army might think it’s a tree branch breaking from the weight of the snow, I know differently.

That was a gunshot. I’m certain of it.

“Knox?” There’s a concerned lift to Gage’s voice. “Is everything?—”

“I heard something. Outside.”

“What did you hear?”

Before I can answer, there’s another crack.

Definitely a gun.

Shit.

I jump up from my chair, all my muscles tensed and my jaw clenching. Adrenaline surges through my body. “Two gunshots. Outside.”

There’s a brief pause. “A hunter?”

“After midnight?”

“Probably not,” Gage concedes. “Are you calling 911?”

That would be the logical answer. Stay inside, call 911, and let the police deal with any trouble. I’m not active duty, not law enforcement, so there’s really no reason for me to go tramping through the snow searching for whoever fired that gun .

Except Lark is out there. Just through the woods.

I don’t have any other neighbors close enough to worry about.

But Lark?—

She’s all alone in her cabin. At night. In a snowstorm. Could there be a better time for someone with bad intentions to target her? To rob her? Or…

Shit.

Yes, she has a security system, but it’s no guarantee. And even if the police are notified, it’ll take them ages to get here.

Who won’t take at least half an hour to get to Lark’s cabin? Me.

“I’m going to investigate,” I announce. “Call the team and put them on standby, just in case.”

“Knox. I’m not sure that’s a good?—”

“Lark is out there. My neighbor. Her house is the only one close enough to hear. I have to check. See if she’s in trouble.”

Gage’s voice goes brisk. “Of course. I’ll call Enzo. Be careful out there.”

“I will.” Already moving, I pull my headset off and toss it onto the chair. My mind is already three steps ahead, running through everything I need.

Boots. A coat. My Sig. My Ka-Bar, too, just in case. My phone.

Car keys?

No. It’ll be faster to cut straight through the woods, rather than deal with at least a mile and a half of snow-covered roads to get to Lark’s place. Plus, that’ll allow for a stealthier approach, and given I don’t know what I’m walking into, that’s what I’d much prefer .

In under a minute, I’m ready to go.

Just as I’m about to leave the house, I grab a flashlight as an afterthought. The moonlight reflecting across the sheet of untouched snow across my backyard brings an unnatural brightness to the night, but the woods beyond will be dark.

It’s tough to run in the snow, given that it’s already up to my knees, but that’s where the hours of conditioning and hiking and running come in. So I’m barely breathing hard by the time I reach the treeline.

Once I get into the cover of trees, I flip on my flashlight and aim it at the ground. I’ll have to move more slowly now, since I can’t see the inevitable branches and stumps hidden beneath the snow, and I don’t think I’ll be much help to Lark if I end up breaking an ankle out here.

I haven’t heard another gunshot. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

As I move through the trees, I keep my Sig out, low but ready.

Shifting into battle mode, all the skills I honed as a Green Beret come rushing back.

Control my breathing. Keep it silent. Make each step purposeful but quiet. Pay attention to my surroundings, listening for any unusual sound. Look around for anything out of the ordinary—a tiny light bouncing through the woods, branches cracking, or an almost inaudible moan of pain.

But there’s nothing. Yet.

Despite my outward calm, my heart is pounding faster than usual .

Knowing that Lark could be in danger…

What if she’s hurt? Or worse?—

Shit.

I don’t want to think about it.

Maybe it’s not what I’m thinking. Maybe it’s some kids fooling around, shooting targets in the snow. Does Lark have a gun? Could she have fired it accidentally? Or?—

Another crack.

This time, not a gunshot. It’s softer. Subtler. Closer .

I freeze.

My gun raises slightly, my trigger finger tensing.

My breath stills.

Another soft crack. From my right. About ten yards ahead.

Then another.

Five yards now.

I can hear someone breathing. Not just breathing, but short, shuddering gasps.

Someone hurt? A burglar? Assailant? Lark?

An icy calm takes over.

If it’s a threat, I’ll take care of it. Restrain them until the police can get here.

As the person continues toward me, I raise my gun another few inches. My jaw sets.

Then.

A tiny sob.

Just as I aim my flashlight in their direction, a small person bursts through the trees. Stumbling. Weaving. Crying.

Not any person. Lark .

I lower my gun as I rush toward her. Pitching my voice low, I ask unnecessarily, “Lark?”

But of course it’s her. It couldn’t be anyone else.

Her eyes are huge in her pale face, her expression a terrible mix of terror and pain. Her long hair is a dark spill of red over her shoulders, and she looks so tiny in her pajamas?—

Wait. What?

Her pajamas?

Why the fuck is Lark running through the woods in her?—

She stops a few feet from me, hugging herself as she shakes. “Knox?” It’s almost disbelieving. “Is it… Are you…”

Double shit. She’s so cold her teeth are clattering.

“It’s me.” Cautiously, not wanting to frighten her, I put an arm around her shoulder to bring her closer to me. I wouldn’t normally touch her right away, but if there’s someone else out there… “What happened?”

Lark turns her tear-streaked face toward me. “I… Someone… Shot…”

Feigning a calm I’m not feeling, I ask quietly, “Are they out here?”

“Maybe.” She shudders. “I don’t know. I… ran. They were still alive. Shouting. But I couldn’t tell how far they came.”

“Still alive?” My tone is low and soothing, but I’m on high alert, my gaze moving between Lark and our surroundings.

A little sob escapes. “I shot him. Oh, Knox. I shot him. But I didn’t know what else to do. He shot me, and?—”

Forget soothing. I bite out, “He shot you? ”

And then I do what I should have done first, had I not been so desperate to protect her. I lean away from Lark, scanning her body quickly, hissing out a low curse when I see the dark liquid staining her sleeve.

“Shit, Lark. Why didn’t you tell me you’re hurt?” It comes out sharper than I intended, and she flinches, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“I’m sorry?—”

“No.” I’m pissed at myself. “It’s not your fault. I should have… shit. We need to get you to my place. Check you out.”

Glancing back up, she gives me a tiny nod. “Okay.”

Gathering her back to my side, I say, “Alright. We need to move quickly. Do you think you can walk the rest of the way?”

“Yes.” With another nod, she says, “I’ll do whatever you need.”

“Okay. Let’s get you in my coat first.” Not wanting to let go of my gun, but not seeing another way around it, I hand it to Lark while I shrug off my coat. Then I gently drape it around her while she stares at me, a look of utter trust in her gaze.

Once she hands me the gun back, I put my arm around her, tugging her into my side. “Tell me if you need to stop, alright?”

“I won’t,” she promises quietly. “Whatever we need to do, I’ll do it.”

But as soon as we start to move, her knees buckle and she nearly collapses. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I don’t know… my feet… dizzy…”

I scan the woods again, breathing a small sigh of relief to see nothing but darkness. “Your feet? ”

Wait.

If she’s wearing pajamas… “Lark, sweetheart. Do you have shoes on?”

She stares at me for a second before shaking her head. “I was in bed when I heard a noise. I didn’t think?—”

Fuck.

Not only was Lark shot, she’s been running through the damn snow in bare feet.

Without wasting time asking, I scoop her into my arms, one behind her back and the other under her legs. After a slight adjustment, I settle most of her weight in one arm while holding my gun with the other.

Is it ideal if someone comes up on us? Hardly.

But she’s bleeding. Freezing. Probably in shock. I need to get her inside now .

“Knox, you can’t carry me,” Lark starts.

“Yes, I can.” Hugging her close to my chest, I start jogging back in the direction I came from. “You barely weigh anything.”

One arm comes around my neck, holding on tight. Then she presses her face into my shoulder to stifle a moan.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I croon, feeling anything but. “It’s going to be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” she replies softly. “I just thought… it was selfish. But I thought you’d protect me.”

Oh.

There’s this crazy wrenching feeling in my chest. Like a giant hand reached inside to squeeze it.

And this fierce protectiveness comes over me, like nothing I’ve ever felt before .

With Lark relying on me, I'll do anything to keep her safe.

“I will, Lark. I promise.”

Then I pick up my pace, worry and fear urging me faster.

My mind spins with questions.

How badly is she hurt? I only saw the blood on her arm, but is there something I missed? What about her poor feet? Is the man who shot her still out here? What if we run into him? I have no doubts about facing an enemy on my own, but with Lark in my arms, it puts her at risk.

While the run into the woods took only minutes, the return home feels like it takes hours.

By the time we get to my back door, Lark is shivering badly, my coat not doing nearly enough to keep her warm. I glance at her, inwardly wincing at the lines of pain etched into her delicate features. “Can I put you down for a second? Just to unlock the door?”

“Of course.”

But I’m not as sure.

The second I put her down, she sways, so I loop my arm around her waist to keep her standing. She whispers, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s fine.” As soon as the door opens, I swing her up into my arms again, trying to be careful of her injured arm. “You did so well. And look, now we’re back at my place. Safe. Warm. I’m going to call the police and an ambulance, and it’s going to be okay.”

Lark’s still tense until the deadbolt slides into place, then she lets out a relieved sigh. Sagging against me as I carry her into the living room, her head drops to my shoulder. “Thank you, Knox. I know I shouldn’t have brought this to you?—”

There’s that protectiveness again. So intense it’s hard to breathe.

Emotion makes my voice rough. “No, Lark. I’m so glad you came.”