my website at www.laurascottbooks.com. I can also be found on Facebook at laurascottbooks and on Twitter @laurascottbooks.
Yours in faith,
Laur a Scott
The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.
—Psalms 18:2
This book is dedicated to all the men and women who have served our country and have paid the ultimate price in order to protect our freedom.
Contents
Two fatal drug overdoses in the past week.
Exhausted from her thirteen-hour shift in the intensive care unit, First Lieutenant Vanessa Gomez made her way down the hallway of the Canyon Air Force Base hospital, grappling with the impact of this latest drug-related death.
The medication both young men had overdosed on, Tyraxal, had been touted as the best new drug on the market to treat PTSD. Of course, no meds were risk free, but she was troubled by these two recent deaths. Not just because her young brother, Aiden, also suffered from PTSD, although he wasn’t on that particular medication as far as she knew, but because she’d heard Tyraxal was highly addictive and it seemed these recent overdoses proved it.
The corridor lights abruptly went out, enclosing her in complete darkness. She froze, instinctively searching for the nearest exit sign, when strong hands roughly grabbed her from behind, long fingers wrapping themselves around her throat.
The Red Rose Killer?
It had been months since she’d received the red rose indicating she was a target of convicted murderer and prison escapee Boyd Sullivan. She struggled against her attacker, wishing now that she’d brought Eagle, her protective attack Doberman, to work with her.
No! Dear God, please help me!
She kicked back at the man’s shins, but her soft-soled nursing shoes didn’t do much damage. She used her elbows, too, but couldn’t make enough impact that way, either. Her phone was off, so she didn’t bother digging it out of her bag. The attacker’s fingers moved their position around her neck, as if searching for the proper pressure points.
“Why?” she asked in a harsh whisper as she tried to break his hold. She’d helped Boyd once after he’d gotten into a fight, tending to his wounds. So why was he intent on killing her? She clawed at his hands, but they were covered in plastic gloves.
“Because you’re in my way...” the attacker said, his voice low and dripping with malice.
The pressure against her carotid arteries grew, making her dizzy and weak. Black spots dotted her vision.
She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Poor Aiden, he’d be left all alone...
Her knees sagged, then she heard a man’s voice. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Her attacker abruptly let go just as the lights came on. She fell to the floor, wincing against the blinding brightness while struggling to breathe. The sound of pounding footsteps echoed along the corridor.
“Are you okay?” A man wearing battle-ready camo rushed over, dropping to his knees beside her. A soft, wet, furry nose pushed against her face and a sandpapery tongue licked her cheek.
“Yes,” she managed, hoping he didn’t notice how badly her hands were shaking.
“Stay, Tango,” the stranger ordered. He ran