2014 Finalist - Carolyn Readers Choice Award
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Here is the first chapter for your reading pleasure. If you enjoy Mountain Hero, it can be found at Amazon and Audible.com.
Michelle
Starr searched for a spot to pull over along the snow-covered mountain road, as
her car sputtered. Large wet flakes drifted downward at a leisurely pace,
quickly cleared from her windshield by the swishing of her
wipers.
Dangerous
weather lay behind the outwardly calm and picturesque countryside. For days now,
the weathermen had warned about an upcoming winter storm. But had she listened?
Nooo! She smacked her forehead with her palm.
Idiot!
As
her car made a final, loud popping noise, she managed to limp it off to the side
before the engine stalled completely. Now what would she do? She’d made a
foolish mistake not waiting until morning to finish her trek up the Rocky
Mountains to the cabin she’d rented for the week.
Michelle
sniffled and wiped at a tear. Since breaking up with Bill only a few weeks
before their wedding, she hadn’t been thinking too
clearly.
How
could he?
She
was unable to banish the images from her brain of finding the cheating bastard
with her best friend’s lips locked around his dick. That
slut!
Caught
up in humiliation and anger, she’d made reservations and headed out the
following day. She’d hoped to get there before the worst of the storm arrived.
Her car had just been serviced and the repairman promised she was good to go for
another twenty-five thousand miles. Michelle glowered at the snow covering her
windshield in a light blanket. She wanted a damn refund.
Her
hands curled around the steering wheel as she furiously blinked away tears. She
just wanted to get to her mountain retreat and lick her wounds for a little
while, although she had to admit that breaking it off hadn’t upset her as much
as it should have.
She’d
been having doubts about their relationship for some time. But finding him with
her ex-best friend, well, that stung.
Digging
her cell phone from her purse, Michelle flipped it open. No cell service. Not
even a little. She tossed the cell phone back in her purse with a groan. In a
rush to get out of town before that rotten son of a bitch or cocksucking tramp could come begging for her forgiveness.
Not interested in their apologies.
She
hadn’t even told her family she was leaving. She’d planned to call her brother
later tonight when she arrived. It was possible they wouldn’t even realize she
was gone until tomorrow. When they did, it’d take Zack less than five minutes to
track her down. He owned a small security firm, providing protection at high
profile functions around the state, and political events. He was damn good at
it. Michelle smiled wryly. The last time she’d seen Zack, he was storming out of
her house to give Bill the ass kicking he so richly
deserved.
The
inside of the car grew colder, and a shiver rolled through her. A thickening
layer of snow covered her windows and blocked out the afternoon light. She
picked up her hip-length brown suede jacket from the seat next to her and put it
on, along with the matching gloves, giving her outerwear a frown. Not exactly
lost-on-a-mountain, snow-storm-ready clothing.
She
opened the car door, bracing herself against the cold blast of wind, and stepped
outside. Hunching her shoulders and stomping her feet, she wrapped her arms
around her upper body in an attempt to stay warm. Michelle scanned the road in
both directions, looking for any signs of life. But saw only the white covered
landscape . . . beautiful and potentially deadly. Snow quickly wet her face and
she blinked droplets from her lashes. What should she do? Stay in her car or go
find help?
Stay
in the car.
Her sensible side pleaded.
Go
for help. The
scared-shitless part of her demanded.
Listening
to her sensible side, she crawled back into the car. It was because of her
emotional and sometimes reckless nature that she found herself in this
predicament. Zack always told her to think first before reacting. And she tried.
She really did. But her emotions always seemed to overpower her
logic.
Her
bottom lip quivered and tears gathered at her lashes. She rapidly blinked them
away. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to get her out of this
mess.
Chilled
to the bone, she tried to start the car again. The engine wouldn’t even turn
over now, the sound of clicking indicating she was truly screwed. She knelt on
the seat to reach the duffle bag she’d tossed in the back, digging for more
layers of warmth.
“Yes!”
She pulled out a thick sweater and extra socks. At least she’d taken time to
pack right. Michelle shrugged out of her light jacket and pulled the sweater on
over her blouse for extra protection against the cold, then put her jacket back
on. She tugged the socks over the ones she already wore, then shoved her feet back into her tennis shoes. Hopefully
they’d keep her feet warm enough.
Chilled
to the bone, she tried one more time to start the car. Nothing. She heaved out a
disgusted breath that fogged the air. Wrapping her arms around herself in a
futile attempt to stay warm, she sat there for about half an hour, growing
colder and colder by the minute. Time was fast running out. A sense of doom
filled her, mixing with her fear until she was in a nearly panicked state. If
she stayed here, would she freeze to death before someone found her? She
remembered reading of such things in the news. But if she went for help, and
there were no homes nearby, she would die for sure.
The
sound of the whistling wind prompted her to make a decision. It’d be dark in a
couple hours, if she was going to do it, she’d better
go now. There were no nearby homes from the direction she’d come. So she’d
follow the road past the curve she’d seen in front of her before her car pooped
out, while there was still enough light left to guide her. Maybe there would be
homes on the other side of the curve. If not, she’d turn back to the car and
wait until morning. It’d be a long, miserable night, but she didn’t think she’d
actually freeze to death if she stayed inside the vehicle. At least that was
what she hoped. If she got lucky, maybe someone would come along and help
her.
Michelle
glanced at the sky and zipped her jacket up as far as it would go, and thought
longingly about the scarf she’d forgotten on the table at
home.
Here
goes nothing. Opening
the door, she again stepped into the wintry storm, which immediately took her
breath away and chilled her to the bone.
Maybe
this isn’t such a good idea after all.
She
swallowed her fear and doubt and slowly trudged down the road. Her hair whipped
around her face and she lost track of time. She concentrated on putting one foot
in front of the other as the cold penetrated her clothing. Her light jeans were
little protection against the frigid weather and her legs were a block of ice,
shivers wracking her body.
The
snow had let up, but the wind had grown even colder. And it seemed a very long
time before she reached the curve, and the last few hundred yards took an
eternity.
Finally,
she rounded the bend and peered into the distance, then closed her eyes as
despair washed over her. Nothing but miles of road loomed before her. A long,
lonely stretch, offering her no assistance. A sob shook her and she bit her
bottom lip to stop from giving in to tears. If she started crying, she wasn’t
sure she’d be able to stop. They’d find her frozen body along the side of the
road in the morning. She needed to get back to her car.
Michelle
gripped her jacket tight under her chin to keep out the wind chill. She started
to turn around to make the long walk back when she spotted something in the
distance. A car? The object grew larger, moving toward
her.
Her
heart raced as she ran as fast as her cold legs would carry her toward the
oncoming beam of fog lights, and what might be her only hope of rescue. When the
car drew near she waved her arms in the air, barely noticing the tears on her
numb cheeks.
The
car slowed and a powerful relief flowed through her as the small, four-door
sedan pulled to the side of the road.
Rescue!
Two
men stepped from the vehicle, and a sense of unease penetrated through her
relief. The driver wore a black leather jacket and a mean expression. A blue
bandana was wrapped around the top of his bald head.
The other man exiting the car wasn’t dressed for the cold weather at all, with a
ragged jean-jacket and a backward baseball cap. His hair was also close-cropped,
and she could see a jagged scar covering one side of his
face.
Oh
shit!
She took a quick step back, her body tensing to run back to her car and lock the
doors.
“Well,
what do we have here,” the driver said, as he approached her. His hard eyes
pinned her like a bug on a stick.
The
other man walked around to her back, effectively caging her between them. His
hand fisted into her hair.
Michelle
bit back a whimper as terror filled her. She was in bad
trouble.
****
Jason
Taylor glanced down at the radio, searching for some rock music to help keep him
awake as he headed home after a long shift at the Fire Station. Two house fires
and a four-car pile-up had kept him hopping. Thankfully there’d been no serious
injuries, this time. Not all nights ended as well.
When
he looked back up he spotted a car sitting along the side of the
road.
What
the hell?
The
snow had stopped for the moment, but eight more inches were expected before
morning. By the amount of snow covering the car, he figured it’d been sitting
there for at least half an hour. He left his truck running and rushed over to
the vehicle, wiping the snow from the driver’s side to peer inside. A purse lay
on the front seat.
He
studied the ground around the car and saw a set of small footprints heading down
the road. Jason ran back to his truck and climbed inside, spinning the truck
tires as he pulled back onto the road. This was a light trafficked area during
snowstorms, most folks having the sense to remain inside. There wasn’t a house to be found for at least twenty
miles in either direction.
When
he rounded the curve, tension stiffened his spine. Along the side of the road,
two men had a woman trapped between them. Anger tightened his jaw. Their large
frames towered over her in an intimidating manner. Even from this distance he
could see she didn’t want to be there. He pulled the truck off the road near
them. She was slim, about five-five with long wet hair that reached to the
middle of her back. She was shivering and looked like she’d
been in the storm for a while.
All
three heads turned his way. For a moment, his entire focus shifted to the sight
of tears staining the smooth complexion of a very frightened and beautiful
woman. The fear shining from her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut and a
strong surge of protectiveness filled him. His eyes narrowed as his gaze slid
back to the men restraining her.
A
leather-jacketed asshole gripped her wrist, while an ugly piece-of-shit with a
scar across his cheek held a handful of her hair.
Bastards.
He wanted to break their necks for touching her.
With
nothing in the truck to use as a weapon, he swung his door open and stepped to
the ground. Not wanting to do anything that would get her hurt, he kept his
manner easy and unthreatening, needing to get close enough to protect her before
any shit hit the fan. And he could tell by the meanness in the men’s eyes that
shit was definitely going to hit the fan. And soon.
Jason
approached slowly, making an attempt to appear non-threatening. He came to a
stop only an arms’ length away. “Trouble?”
The
woman tried to wrench from their grip. “Please help me,” she pleaded, white
puffs forming when her warm breath hit the cold air. Her soft, musical voice
touched a part of him that hadn’t been touched in a very long
time.
Whoa!
Focus, dumb ass.
Scar-face
jerked her hair. “Shut up, bitch,” he snarled.
The
woman gave a pained gasp. Tears glistened in her eyes, though she bravely
blinked them away. She looked delicate, and her soft shuddering breaths enflamed
every one of his protective instincts.
Jason
clenched his hands at his side, and the urge to do a little damage to the guy
rose swiftly inside him. Barely managing to force down his anger and uncurl his
fingers, he needed to play it smart if he was going to get her out of this
unharmed. Although he didn’t see a weapon on either of them, he couldn’t be sure
of that.
As
Leather-jacketed guy released her wrist and shifted his body toward him, Jason
went into fight mode. His body tensed, his mind methodically working through his
method of attack. First, he had to free the woman so she could get to his truck.
Then he was going to take these bastards down—one by one.
“This
doesn’t concern you,” Scar-face said with a sneer. “Get back in your truck and
drive away.”
Jason
remained in a relaxed stance, reaching up to thoughtfully rub his jaw. “I’m
afraid I can’t do that.” He gave the woman a quick comforting smile, then dropped his hand to his side. Straightening to his full
height, he returned his attention to the assholes. His eyes narrowed. “Not
without the girl.”
Tension
thickened the air as the wind kicked up and the snow began falling again,
whipping around them like a white cyclone. There was a long moment where nobody
moved, barely breathed.
Then
everything exploded into motion. Leather-jacketed guy leapt toward
him.
Jason
was prepared for the attack. When the man swung his arm toward him, Jason
charged, like the ex-football linebacker he was, and tossed the guy over his
shoulder in one smooth move. The punk landed hard behind him. The woman, proving
she was no dainty flower, turned her head and bit the arm of the prick still
gripping her hair.
“Fuck!”
Using her long hair, Scar-face tossed her to the ground. Jason’s fury escalated
at the sound of her pained cry, and he landed a sharp blow to the man’s face and
sent him reeling.
“Get
into the truck, sweetheart,” Jason yelled, turning to block Scar-face who was
now on his feet and rushing toward him.
The
guy tackled him and they fell to the ground. This man was big, but Jason was
bigger. He used his superior strength to keep them in a roll until he was on
top, then sat up and straddled the thug’s waist, raining heavy blows to his
face, one after another.
Then
Leather-jacket guy wrapped his arm around Jason’s neck and wrenched him off
Scar-face. But the guy didn’t get up.
He
struggled with Leather-jacket guy, whose meaty arm was cutting off his airflow.
He brought his elbow back and jabbed the bastard hard in the stomach, managing
to loosen his grip enough to breathe. Preparing to make his next move and break
the hold, Jason heard the man curse and released his hold on Jason’s
neck.
Jason
spun around. He couldn’t help grinning when he saw the beautiful little thing he
was determined to rescue hanging onto the piece of shit’s back. Her hands
covered his face, digging her fingers into the punk’s
eyes.
All
Jason’s humor vanished when the man reached around and grabbed her shoulder and
flung her to the ground, then bent over and rubbed at his
eyes.
“Goddamn,
bitch! I’m going to kill you for that,” Leather-jacketed guy threatened in a
pain-filled snarl.
Like
hell! Jason
sprang forward and scooped the stunned woman off the ground and into his arms,
noting in the same instant that Scar-face was no longer lying on the ground. He
glanced over and saw him standing next to the open passenger car door, reaching
inside to retrieve something.
Shit!
The
man pulled out a pistol. Jason pivoted toward the truck, but the other man
blocked his path. Scratches covered both cheeks where the woman had raked her
nails across his face. He had murder in his eyes.
The
woman trembled, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She was light as a
feather and felt fragile in his arms. Every muscle in his body tightened, as
determination clenched his jaw. It was up to him to save her. But if he didn’t
get them out of there in the next five seconds, they were both
dead.
With
no other options, he turned and bolted into the woods only a short sprint behind
him. The pop-popping of the asshole’s gun split the air
as he took a shot at them. Jason ducked behind a tree, his fury mounting at the
sound of bullets impacting the hardwood. The woman buried her face into his
neck, her panicked breaths warm on his skin.
He
scanned the wooded area for a place to hide her, while he went back to deal with
the thugs who’d attacked them. The wind was picking up and howling through the
trees, the snow now falling with a punishing force.
The
gunfire stopped and one of the men shouted, “Get the truck and let’s get the
hell out of here.”
“I
want that bitch,” the other snarled.
“Later,
man. Let’s go!”
The
sound of vehicles pulling away indicated they’d stolen his brand-new, Ford F-150
truck that he’d saved up over a year to purchase. Son of a
bitch!
Eyeing
some shelter for the woman, he made his way over to a small area between a
cluster of trees that looked as if it could protect her from the wind and snow,
at least a little.
“I
need you to stay here, while I check things out.” Jason knelt and placed her on
the driest spot he could find. She clung to him, her arms tightening. He knew
she was terrified, possibly in shock, but he needed to try and save their ride.
If they were caught out in the monster storm heading their way, they were in
deep shit.
“Honey,”
he said, tugging her arms from around his neck. “I have to go.” As he pulled her
away from him and met her frightened gaze, his gut twisted. He didn’t want to
leave her, but he had no choice. There was a good chance he’d be able to fix her
car, and he needed to secure it before those pricks disabled it completely.
“I’ll be back for you, I promise.”
She
took a shuddering breath, but she nodded and pulled her knees to her chest. He
briefly cupped her cheek. “Atta girl.”
He
stood and raced back out of the woods. Keeping to the tree line, he ran in the
direction of her car. As he rounded the curve, he saw his truck alongside the
disabled vehicle and Scar-face standing next to both. Jason slowed and hugged
the trees as he made his way closer. His stomach sank when the son of a bitch
walked around the car and shot out all four tires, and all the windows, reaching
through the shattered passenger window to retrieve what looked like a purse and
duffle bag from the front seat, before climbing back into Jason’s truck and
taking off.
By
now, the snowstorm was raging. The wind cut through him like a sharp blade, all
the way to the bone. Goddamn it! They were in some serious
trouble.