There are times that past memories won’t leave you alone. Derek, the only remaining single Wilder brother, has been unable to forget a woman he saved two years ago. She is haunting him in his dreams, until one day, she shows up at his door.
Avery is tired of being scared. She heads to Montana to face a man she needs to see in order to get on with her life. Trouble has followed her. Can she survive and still find a future, possibly one with Derek?
Derek swore, dodging to his left as bullets thudded into the truck and into the ground to his right. Wood shards tore through his shirt, embedding into flesh when the ground gave way to trees.
“Don’t let him get away!”
Hurdling the fallen log in his path, he rolled when he landed, swearing as a slug ripped into him. He paused and pressed the heel of his hand to the wound and grimaced at the sting of pain. Didn’t matter how often he got shot, it still hurt like a bitch.
In the next second, the entire scene changed and he hung from his wrists as a man stood before him. Scowled and put two into his chest.
He jerked and fell.
Eyes opening, he pushed up from where he lay on the floor to his hands and knees, the bedding a tangled mess around him. There didn’t exist an inch on him that wasn’t still sore. Although darkness owned the room, he had confidence there would be blood. For a few moments he remained immobile, trying to control his breathing. Thirty minutes later, he exited the bathroom wearing a baggy pair of sweats, new bandages covering the most recent wounds.
The dreams weren’t getting better. They weren’t lessening. They ranged from rescuing clients’ family members to missions. Then on to his sister-in-law, all of which ended up the same way. Him in a panic wishing he had more than his sidearm beside the bed, and him sweating like he’d just done a twenty-klick run.
A glance at the clock and he sank to the couch while snow continued to coat the frozen landscape. Breakfast was at his mother’s soon. He drifted back to sleep only to wake with a shot as he brought up his empty arm to fire at the man who’d nearly killed Avery.
He scrubbed a frustrated hand over his face, the daily growth needing to be knocked back.
Most cases he could do and move on. Not that one.
Not the one that started with him going to bring a young woman home to her family. For him, were he to be honest with himself, it started the second he laid eyes on her picture. That right there had been the moment he realized that he wouldn’t be able to just do it and forget it. No way. Not with this particular case.