Page 4 of The Hero She Loves

Park headed to the pile of wood that he’d been chopping. It was springtime, but the nights could still get cold.

He set one log on another, then lifted the axe. He pulled in another deep breath.Whack.

This was a far cry from his job as a special-forces operative in Ghost Ops. After a stint in Delta Force, it had been an honor to be selected for the Ghost Ops program. The teams were made up of the best and toughest of the special forces.

He’d been sent on the most challenging and dangerous missions that existed. He’d been good at it. Thrived on it.

Until…he hadn’t.

Until he’d woken up in a hospital bed, full of bullet holes and covered in burns and cuts.

The black memories crowded in, filling his head with a rush of nasty whispers. He gritted his teeth and through sheer force of will, he blocked them.

He swung the axe again. That was the past. He’d bought this old cabin in Alaska to be alone. Where it was quiet. He looked around.

Okay, sometimes a little too quiet.

But he didn’t want people around, poking and talking and… No, he just wanted to be left alone.

He got busy chopping wood, and soon pulled his T-shirt off and tucked it into the back of his jeans. It wasn’t long before he had a huge stack of wood. Gathering up an armload, he carried some toward the cabin. He glanced out at the lake. He might try some fishing tomorrow.

There was plenty of daylight late into the night this time of year. Even though it felt like the afternoon, it was time to make some dinner. He had a steak marinating in the fridge.

Once he’d stacked the wood, he fired up his little grill, and threw the steak on it. Back inside, he pulled out some carrots, green beans, and broccoli. He’d recently stocked up and still had fresh vegetables. Once those ran out, he’d switch to frozen and canned for a while. He chopped them up, hesitated, then sighed.He put half of the vegetables in a pot and the other half on a small plate. He carried the plate out and set it on the back steps.

As he flipped the steak, he heard a skittering sound, and a tiny, red squirrel appeared.

“Asshole,” Park muttered. “I could have broken my ankle.”

Red chittered at him, completely unrepentant. He snatched up a carrot, then darted across the deck.

Park served up his steak. Back in the compact kitchen with its aging cabinets and appliances, he added the vegetables. Then, he grabbed himself a bottle of beer and sat at the small, wooden table. The cabin was basic. The previous owner had left some hand-hewn furniture behind, and that was all he needed. There was a decent brown-leather sofa in the tiny living area, and a king-size bed in the only bedroom. The bathroom needed overhauling, though. It had godawful green tiles, but a nice, wooden vanity. He’d been watching some videos online about tiling and planned to do the reno himself.

He cut some steak and ate it. This sure beat endless MREs. He hoped never to have to eat his meal out of a ration pack ever again.

As he chewed, the scars on his neck tugged. He rubbed the scar that ran along his jaw and down the side of his neck. Burn and knife scars covered parts of his right side. A souvenir from his torturers.

His gut cramped. Actually, there were a lot of things he didn’t miss about the military.

He sipped his beer, then grabbed his remote and turned on the TV.

“Breaking news.” An earnest young male presenter stared into the camera. “A dangerous fugitive has escaped US Marshals and Alaska State Troopers south of Fairbanks.”

Park stilled. That was his neck of the woods.

“Be alert for a strange man on foot. Two marshals were killed during the escape, and troopers injured. They’re currently recovering in the hospital. The fugitive is considered armed and dangerous.”

The story changed, and Park cut into his steak. They hadn’t shared the fugitive’s name. Weird.

He flicked through channels and found a movie. It was an action flick, and as soon as he saw the way the hero held his weapon, Park rolled his eyes. He changed the channel again, and found a science fiction movie.

He took another sip of beer. This would do.

He was watching a lot more TV than he had previously. Part of it was the dead silence here in Alaska. He’d wanted solitude, and he’d gotten it, but he hadn’t realized just how silent it would be. He simply wasn’t used to it yet, but he’d get there.

This is what you wanted, Conroy.

As he ate, his thoughts turned to his former Ghost Ops buddy, Sawyer Lane. He wondered how Sawyer was doing. Parker had recently gone to Hawaii, where Sawyer was a deputy sheriff. He’d helped Sawyer keep his girlfriend, Hollis, safe after some asshole had put a contract out on her life.

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