no doubt by the violence of the evening and the sudden unexpected noise. Dammit. He wanted to smash his fist into the wall and roar with anger and despair.
But he couldn’t...couldn’t lose control now. Not with an audience.
The blood drained abruptly from his head, leaving him clammy and light-headed. “Dammit, Larry,” he growled, and sagged as though someone had cut him off at the knees.
Squeezing his eyes closed to block out the wildly spinning cell, he staggered and hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself by passing out—or tossing his cookies. He could just imagine what the sexy nurse would think about the hotshot SEAL then.
“I’m s-sorry, M-Major...it’s just that I had b-both hands f-full.”
He felt her an instant before her arms wrapped around him, easing him backwards, soft and silky and smelling like cool mountain air. Mortified, Sam pulled away and collapsed wearily onto the narrow bunk, slinging an arm across his face.
“Don’ sweat it, kid,” he slurred, and prayed for oblivion. Unfortunately, sleep always came with a heavy price and he wasn’t ready to go there. The nightmares were still too real, the memories too raw, the latest flashback still too recent. So vivid he could taste the fear, hear the furious pounding of his pulse in his head.
The Navy shrinks had warned that they’d get worse before they got better. They’d also warned that they’d last for years.
Well, hell. Just what he was looking forward to. A constant reminder of his greatest failure.
“Major Kellan?”
In the meantime he had to face Nurse...what’s-her-name.
Swiping his good hand over his face, he eased open his eyes and focused on the statuesque blonde watching him warily and with more than a hint of concern.
He didn’t want her pity—or anything else she had to offer. He wanted to be left alone. Needed to be left alone. “I’m fine,” he snapped, furious with himself and embarrassed that she’d witnessed an episode. Hoping to distract his brain from the endless loop of horrifying images, Sam focused his attention on her.
Yeah, much better to focus on the nurse.
With her thick silvery blond hair haphazardly pulled off a stunning face dominated by deep green eyes and a lush wide mouth, she looked like a sexy angel and smelled like a wood sprite—all fresh and clean and earthy like the mountains in spring. Raindrops glistened in her hair like diamonds, giving her an ethereal quality that made him wonder if he was drunk or just plain losing it.
“No, you’re not,” she contradicted softly. “But you will be.”
For one confused moment Sam wondered if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud before he remembered he’d said he was fine.
“Sure,” he growled, clenching his teeth on a wave of grief and anger. I will. But my friends are still dead. And the woman patching me up thinks Crescent Lake’s hero is a whacked-out crazy with a drinking problem.
Yeah, right. Hero. What a joke.
Heroes didn’t let their teams down. They didn’t return home with their buddies in body bags no matter what the Navy shrinks said. But his week of detention in a small, dark hole, deep in mountainous enemy territory wasn’t something he talked about. He could barely think about it let alone talk about the hours of interrogation and torture that had left half his team dead.
The only reason he’d survived long enough to escape had been because they’d found out he was a medic and wanted him to treat some sick kid. He’d tried to bargain until they let his team go but they’d dragged in the team rookie and held a gun to his head. Afterwards they’d—
No. Don’t go there. Not when the horror was still so fresh in his mind that every time he closed his eyes, he was back in that hellhole.
“Major Kellan?”
Jolted from his unpleasant thoughts, Sam saw the syringe and shot out his hand to wrap hard fingers around her wrist. Other than a slight widening of her eyes, the nurse held her ground without flinching. After a couple of tense beats she arched her brow, the move managing to convey a boatload of indulgent concern. Like he was a cranky toddler up past his bedtime. He groaned silently. Just great.
His face heated and he narrowed his eyes but she silently held his gaze, like he wasn’t almost a foot taller, a hundred pounds heavier, and a whole hell of a lot meaner.
Clearly the woman was missing a few IQ points, he decided with a mix of admiration and annoyance, or she wasn’t as soft and silky as she looked. He closed his eyes on a surge of self-disgust. All he needed to complete his humiliation was for her to ruffle his hair and kiss his “owie” better.
Way to go, hotshot.
“Do I need to wave a white flag or are you a friendly?” she asked with a hint of amusement, and when his lashes rose, she indicated the hand wrapped around her wrist.
He grimaced and released her. Jeez, could this get any worse? Embarrassment had him muttering, “I don’t hit women.” He jerked his chin at the syringe. “Unless they’re armed.”
She followed his gaze. “Oh, this?” Her mouth curved sweetly into a smile that instantly made him suspicious and want to take a greedy bite of that lush lower lip. “Surely you’re not afraid of a little needle, Major?” Her smile grew as though she’d just learnt his deepest, darkest secret. Not even close, lady. “A big tough SEAL like you?” She made a soothing sound in the back of her throat. “It won’t hurt a bit. Trust me.”
Sam grunted out a laugh and hauled himself into a sitting position, hissing through clenched teeth when the move sent pain radiating through his chest and burning across his belly. “That’s what they all say,” he growled. “Right before they stab you in the heart.”
“Not to worry,” she said, moving closer and wrapping him in clean mountain air. “I have no interest in your heart, Major. I’m aiming a little lower than that.”
And then, as though suddenly realizing what she’d said, her cheeks turned pink and she sucked in a sharp breath while Sam choked out a stunned “Huh?” and dropped his uninjured hand to protect his crotch.
“Not th-that low,” she stuttered with a strangled snicker. “Although I’d probably be doing the rest of the female population a favor.”
He choked for the second time in as many seconds but before he could demand what she meant, the outer door banged open again and she froze, eyes jerking to his, all wide and apprehensive as though she expected him to go all psycho GI Joe on her.
Dammit. He did not go around terrorizing women. Well...not unless they were holding a machine gun on him. Then all bets were off.
Scowling, he opened his mouth to tell her to knock it off, but his brother strode into the holding cells looking all officious and in charge, and Sam turned his irritation on someone more deserving.
Unfortunately, one look at Ruben’s face had Sam’s annoyance abruptly fading. He knew that look. Had seen it a thousand times on his CO’s face. Something was up. Something bad.
“I hope you haven’t used that on him yet.” Ruben tossed an armful of clothing onto the bunk. “Get dressed,” he told Sam. “We’re heading out.”
Blondie gasped and stepped between them. “What—? No!” she hissed. “Are you insane?”
Sam ignored her outburst and rose, pain abruptly receding as his SEAL training took over. “What happened?”
“A group of hikers didn’t check in after closing,” Ruben said, his wary gaze flicking to the syringe, “and the weather’s turned bad. Park rangers just found their vehicle up near Pike’s Pass. Lake route turned up empty and they think the group took the trail leading up into the mountains.”
“Elk Ridge,” Sam guessed, fatigue instantly forgotten as adrenaline surged through his