Page 2 of Stranded with the SEAL

Right on cue, she shouted to the crowd, “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!”

2

It tookconsiderable speed to climb Warsaw Mountain in six inches of unplowed snow, speed that threatened to overcome the traction of Trevor Hawkins’ tires at every turn. There’d been another set of tracks in the road, the only sign of humanity in this wilderness, and he imagined they were made by a park ranger or a county truck surveying the road conditions before closing this passageway down for the night.

Your average joe had no business driving on a twisting mountain road in these conditions. Besides the snow on the ground, it was falling at an alarming rate he’d only witnessed once or twice in his life. The lightest wind was enough to create near white-out conditions, and these were not the lightest winds.

He took his foot off the gas just enough to negotiate a sharp turn to the left, the right side of the road bordered only by a guardrail and a hundred-foot drop. That should have deterred him from his mission, but in fact it did the opposite. According to his calculations, that particular turn meant he was just under twelve miles from Steele’s mansion, and Hawk would walk through fire if it meant he could get to Steele today.

He thought of his commander, Jax Andersson, and the direct order he’d given Hawk not to pursue this lead. By ignoring Jax, Hawk might lose his position with HERO Force, but if he followed orders, he might lose his mind.

He frowned. He and Jax had damn near started HERO Force together. The Hands-on Engagement and Recognizance Operations team was everything Hawk dreamed of doing with the rest of his life, and losing that would be a hell of a lot worse than just losing a job.

Those were his teammates. His brothers. His family. And when one of them was murdered in cold blood right before his eyes, he knew the day would come when he would find his revenge, even if it meant the end of his time with HERO Force.

Two years he’d been waiting for a chance like this, an opportunity to get Steele. That man had more eyes on him than a housefly, but somehow he always managed to have his hand out of the cookie jar whenever anyone checked.

Through the snow, an image began to appear. Hawk squinted and eased up on the accelerator, then he saw it clearly. Sixty feet ahead, a red sports car was stopped in the road, a woman in a white coat standing with her back to him.

Hawk pressed hard on the brake, the muscles of his thighs going rigid, and the scene seemed to freeze. The haze of snowfall that had been blinding just moments before was now made of individual crystals.

There was a horrible beauty in the slide of his car across the snow-covered roadway, a slick movement that seemed to slice the world into before and after, and he forced his eyes to stay open when they wanted to close.

He was going to hit her.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken a life, but it would be the first time he’d done so accidentally. This woman was innocent, and in that moment he wished ferociously that he could stop his car from moving. He pumped the brake, but his Jeep was little more than a hockey puck sliding across ice, without a nod to his intention.

She turned to face him.

Beautiful.

Her features transformed in fear, her piercing scream reaching him through the glass.

It made it worse that she was pretty, worse that she was young. Worse still that the red car hinted at a spark in her personality. His eyes closed, his will no longer strong enough to keep them open. A guttural cry rose up from his chest just before the impact, the sound of crunching metal and breaking glass overtaking everything.

The force of the accident threw him hard against the airbag, pounding his face like solid wood, but it was her face he imagined, her injuries he worried about as his car crushed the space that had once been between them.

Your hatred brought you here.

If he hadn’t been so determined to get Steele, he’d be sitting on a beach right now like the other members of HERO Force. Cowboy would be talking up chicks while Logan read some scientific journal and Jax surfed the waves.

This woman would be alive.

Forcing himself to move his shocked limbs, he pushed against the airbag and stood on shaking legs. He could smell gasoline and his mind shifted into high gear, years of training taking control of his body.

He had to find her. Now.

The Jeep was embedded in the side of the sports car. There was no sign of the woman. He checked beneath the vehicles, then scanned the area, his eyes instantly watering from the biting wind and the swirls of snow.

“Lady?” he yelled. His voice echoed back from tall pine trees, the road he stood on the only seeming break from their dominion. The smell was thicker now, more noxious, and his eyes searched frantically for any sign of her, finally catching on a trail through the snow on the hood of her car.

Racing to the other side, he was dumbfounded to see only virgin snow, untouched. Where the hell was she?

He looked back at the markings on the hood. It was as if she had scampered across the top just before the impact.

Or during it.

He braced himself against the wind and walked into the blinding snow, following the trajectory formed by his Jeep and the path from the hood. “Lady? Where are you?”