Born Ready. Lori Wilde

the ocean, but she knew she couldn’t outrun him. The scenario would be the same, only in the opposite direction.

      Yet, she could not surrender. Could not give up without a fight.

       You could always go into the water.

      Water. The one place she always felt safe.

      His boat caught up to hers. They were racing neck and neck down the channel. Mangrove trees whipped by on both sides. At this speed, in the dark, wrecking was a distinct possibility.

      Dread crouched on her shoulders, but she kept going because she did not know what else to do. She’d learned a long time ago to bury her emotions. Deny them power over her actions.

      He honked his horn.

      She refused to look over. Fear was a marching band, ramming a cacophony of adrenaline through her veins. Her temple throbbed. Her fisted hands tightened around the wheel. Her thoughts galloped, but no solutions materialized. She should have moved her equipment when she’d run across him this morning. Why hadn’t she moved her equipment?

      Because that was where her research had led her. Because in her single-mindedness she’d neglected to realize how vulnerable she was. Because she’d been so invested in showing up her father that she hadn’t paid any attention to the threats around her.

      Stupid, stupid girl. She could hear her father now.

      Berating herself wasn’t helping. She had to think. What was she going to do?

      Everly’s boat overtook hers. He pulled around in front of her, and started slowing down. She had no choice but to slow down, too, or ram into him.

       Go ahead ram him.

      Except her skiff would smash to smithereens in the process. He had one hand on the wheel, but he was looking back at her, the gun extended from his other hand. Moonlight washed over his bare chest. He was still mostly naked except for a pair of dark boxer briefs.

      “Stop your boat,” he ordered.

      She started to jerk the wheel to the left to try to bolt.

      “Don’t make me shoot you,” he warned.

      Defeat drained every bit of energy from her body. She turned off the engine.

      “Good move,” he said in a tone so patronizing she wanted to smack him. He wheeled his boat around, edged it alongside hers, cut the engine.

      Narrowed, steely eyes met hers. His jaw was set. His gun pointed right at her heart. “Hands up.”

      Slowly, she raised her arms over her head.

      Time slowed, moved like syrup.

      This was it. She was about to be raped or killed or both. She gritted her teeth, curled her fingernails into her palms.

       No, no, I’m not going down without a fight. I’ll take my last breath fighting.

      “United States Coast Guard,” Scott barked. “Face down on the floor. Prepare to be boarded.”