Page 4 of Axe Backwards
“Stand as far from the door as you can and face the wall. There may be debris.”
The room wasn’t large, but I went to the far corner, next to the toilet, and turned around. With my luck, I’d end up with wood shards in my ass.
A loud crack startled me.
It was followed by a splintering sound.
Good.
Then another.
“That’s a good one,” the deep voice said.
The comment was followed by a grunt and then a big thump.
I peered over my shoulder, finding several pieces of wood on the floor between me and the door.
“Please face the wall, ma’am,” the voice commanded.
I did as I was told, but not before catching sight of a muscular torso in a tight T-shirt. The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
He didn’t sound like Chief Mitchell. Or Matt Graves or Lieutenant Vargas. I thought I knew all the firemen in town.
A loud crash echoed through the room, making me jump, but I forced myself not to turn.
“That was the lock housing,” the man on the other side of the door said. “You can come out now.”
I turned and took in the damage. He’d cut through the doorframe with an axe, then knocked out the lock. As he pushed what was left of the door open with a gloved hand, several pieces fell away. He pulled back the shards, then a muscled forearm covered with tattoos appeared.
A wave of gratitude flooded me.Who was this guy?
He, along with a few other people, cleared the rest of the debris. Then he reached out to me.
I took his offered hand, stepping over a pile of splintered wood on the tile floor.
In the hallway, I looked up at my rescuer. He was tall, and hissandy brown hair fell over his bright blue eyes. Where I expected turnout gear, he was wearing a tight black T-shirt and a pair of cargo pants made of Gore-Tex or some other expensive high-tech fabric.
Probably a hiker or adrenaline junky passing through town.
More and more often, tourists had been coming to Lovewell. This town was finally putting itself on the map as a gateway to the Northern Maine wilderness.
On second thought, this guy was familiar. And by the way his blue eyes widened when he took me in, he knew me too.
“You okay, Victoria?” he asked, squeezing my hand.
Only then did it hit me.
Chapter 2
Noah
Victoria Randolph.
Wow. It had been years.
I hadn’t thought of her in a while, but in my mind, I pictured her as the smiling captain of the soccer team. She had a bouncy ponytail and was always wearing athletic shorts.
The pretty, sporty girl. The girl everyone liked.
