No End in Sight. Dana Mentink

side. Knife or gun, Jackson guessed. He hoped it was the former.

      “Tell your dad I said hello,” Jackson called as he got in his SUV and turned on the engine.

      Valerie was faced away from him now, and the guy had her around the waist. With gritted teeth, Jackson backed out a few yards before he shifted the car into Drive. Breathing a prayer that he would not wind up killing them all, he hit the gas. Hard.

      The SUV lurched forward, wheels pinging gravel all over the road. He bore down on Valerie and her companion. Two heads snapped around to look at him. He could tell by Valerie’s face that she was terrified, but that she had been expecting some kind of action on his part. The red-haired guy’s eyes widened in surprise. For a terrifying moment, Jackson thought he would pull Valerie closer, but instead he stepped away, a knife in one hand, the other reaching for something under his shirt.

      Jackson pressed the gas to the floor and the vehicle hurtled forward. He aimed right for the red-haired guy, who came up with a gun in his hand. Five feet, four, three—

      The stranger suddenly peeled away and headed for the trees.

      Jackson slammed the car to a halt and leaped out, running for Valerie.

Chapter Three

      Valerie was on her feet. Jackson yanked her toward the cabin. They barreled inside and he shoved the bolt home, closing all the drapes while Valerie locked the back door. She was on her cell phone with the police by the time he finished.

      “They’re on the way.” She clicked off and went to the birdcage where the little green parakeet he’d given her sat tranquilly on his perch. She murmured something soothing to the creature. Calming the bird? Or herself?

      He stood on the braided rug in the perfectly ordered cabin, heart still pounding from the adrenaline. She was deadly pale, almost as pale as her white-blond hair. She looked at him, her blue eyes still filled with fear, stark azure against the pallor of her face. No eyes should be that blue, he’d thought many times. At first he’d even wondered if she achieved the tint with the contact lenses she wore, but he’d later discovered it was God given, that exquisite sea-washed gaze that regarded him now. “You should be more selective about your driving companions.”

      She took a breath. “He was in the forest along Twisted Pines Road. I thought he was with the construction crew. He pretended to be hurt.”

      “How did he convince you to bring him back here?”

      She sank into the chair on legs that suddenly seemed to fail her. He instantly regretted his tone and moved closer.

      She took another deep breath, trembling hands pressed on her knees. “He knew where I lived. The knife…” She swallowed. “It’s mine. He’s been in my house.”

      “So if he intended—” he had to force the words out “—to rape or kill you, why not wait for you here? Why come and find you?”

      She bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

      Jackson’s eyes traveled around the cabin. Nothing disturbed, nothing stolen other than the knife. “Maybe he was looking for something.”

      “What could I have that anyone would want?”

      The irony wasn’t wasted on him. You were all I wanted, Valerie.

      He looked at her and in that moment he was lost in the pain she had caused him, the confusion and the anger.

      Then he heard the sound of heavy footsteps moving fast outside.

Chapter Four

      Jackson peeked out the window and Valerie was relieved when he told her the footsteps they’d heard belonged to the police.

      “Saw the guy but couldn’t catch him,” Sergeant Blair said as he took her statement while another officer checked for prints and thoroughly photographed her vehicle and the house. Valerie couldn’t wait for them to leave…though the person who was truly setting her already frayed nerves jangling was Jackson.

      He was as strong and sure of himself as he’d ever been before his accident, his tall form putting him a good six inches above her five-five. His unruly hair was still cut short, but grown out enough to show its tendency to curl. Gray eyes, bold and confident. The perfect person to have in a crisis. But she did not want him here. Didn’t want him to remind her of what they’d had, or what she’d destroyed.

      Yet she could not take her eyes off him.

      When the police finally left, the quiet stretched between the two of them until she wanted to scream.

      “Are you back on the line?” she finally blurted out. Last she knew he was on light duty, assigned to a desk in the fire station until he was cleared by the doctors and his physical therapist.

      He turned sober eyes on her. “Not yet, but I will be soon.”

      She nodded, recalling the days, weeks, he’d lain in a hospital bed, face twisted in pain. The feel of his fingers clasping hers, the prayers she’d whispered over and over until he’d turned the corner.

      Her joy was still firmly twined with her agony. When she’d learned he would fully recover, she’d come to the decision that she would not, could not, be with him anymore. Not after what had happened to her father.

      But even though she’d hurt him, he’d still saved her life. “Thank you,” she said, voice a little too loud in the tiny living room. “For what you did.”

      He shrugged. “Who’s after you?”

      “I don’t know.”

      He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call my uncle Tuney. He’s a detective. Maybe he can help.”

      He’d already become too involved. “I’ll handle it myself, Jackson.”

      The muscles worked along his jaw. “A guy with a knife almost kills you and you think you can handle it yourself? I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise.”

      She hated the bitterness in his tone, but it ignited a flicker of anger inside her.

      I’ve been by myself since I was nine. I won’t depend on anyone, Jackson. Especially you.

      “The police will help me.” She went to the cage and whispered softly to Kiwi. He fluffed his feathers and put his beak to the bars for a kiss.

      “No slam on the cops, but this is a small town with only a few overworked officers.”

      “I can handle it.”

      “No way,” Jackson said, eyes blazing. “Why can’t you admit that you need me?”

      She faced him, cheeks hot. “I’m not your responsibility, Jackson. I don’t belong to you.” The glimmer of grief in his eyes made her breath catch.

      “I know,” he said, voice suddenly soft. “I learned that the hard way.”

      Her cell rang again. She answered quickly, desperate to escape the emotion shimmering on Jackson’s face.

      “He’s coming,” someone whispered into the phone.

      She tensed and Jackson edged close as she pushed the button for speaker phone. “Who is this?”

      “Tyrone.”

      Valerie struggled to focus on the tortured voice of her only relative, Tyrone, her father’s cousin. Jackson’s muscled shoulder was pressed next to hers, his warmth causing her temperature to rise.

      “Tyrone? Where are you?”

      Tyrone had found her six months before, but it had taken him weeks of dogged determination to convince her to trust him enough to let him into her life. Somewhat