Page 2 of Shattered By the Currents

Another handful of clothes hit her suitcase just as the door behind her slammed open. She spun to see black eyes. Eyes that should be familiar. Eyes that had once brought comfort.

Now, they only incited fear. Pure, bone-deep fear.

She hit the railing of the lookout with so much force the last puff of air knocked out of her chest and hissed through her teeth.

Cool air breezed over her cheeks, the thrum of rain on her skin bringing just a slip of reality back into her world.

She wasn’t in North Dakota anymore. She was in Montana. In her small hometown of Deep River. And she was alive.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and took in the forest beneath the lookout. The trees. The river.

It was beautiful. Despite the rain, sun was beginning to shine golden light over the water and the trees, the branches so green they almost looked like moss.

At least there was some beauty in her life right now.

Movement had her gaze shifting to the trees beside the river. Men. Five of them. They were running in formation and wore packs on their backs. They looked lithe and agile, all power and control. Maybe even a bit dangerous. Even from the lookout, she could see the way they scanned their surroundings with practiced ease, trained to find threats.

They were search and rescue. But they were also former Navy SEALs.

Connor Blackwood, third in line, suddenly looked up. His gaze clashed with hers, and she almost stumbled back.

The frown that creased his brow was just visible. He probably saw everything. The way her chest moved too fast. The paleness of her cheeks despite her exertion.

Pull it together, Raven.

She straightened, offering the smallest flicker of a smile.

His pace didn’t slow or change. It was like he could run without seeing the ground in front of him.

Instinct flared in her abdomen, making her want to inch back. Break eye contact. She didn’t know him well, but shedidknow that he was too practiced in his field to miss things. Not good when she had a past worth hiding.

She forced herself to turn, to break eye contact and run again.

But now her skin hummed for a different reason. A better reason. Because he’d had his gaze on her. And that gaze almost made her forget the reason she’d needed this run in the first place.

The blood. Sampson.

She moved quickly and quietly, pushing her exhausted body to the limit. When she reached her car, she drove straight back to her apartment. Her tiny, cheap, one-bedroom apartment.

On her way to the bathroom, she passed her still-unmade bed. She’d been in too much of a hurry to escape her nightmare to bother with it this morning.

She was halfway through her shower when a banging sounded from somewhere nearby, like a fist on the front door.

What the hell? She wasn’t expecting anyone. She had no friends. No one who cared about her in this town, apart from her parents. But they lived at Deep River Residence. They wouldn’t be here at this time.

Quickly, she turned off the water.

The banging sounded again, louder this time, almost angry.

Unease crawled over her skin as she wrapped a towel around her chest and went to the bedroom dresser. Quickly, she dug to the bottom of the second drawer until her fingers skimmed cold metal. Carefully, she lifted the pistol. It felt heavy and dangerous in her hold. Unfamiliar.

A third knock cut through the apartment.

Her steps were slow as she padded across the cool wooden floorboards, drops of water still sliding down the back of her neck. In the hall, it only took her five steps to reach the door.

She was just leaning forward to look through the peephole when a fourth knock sounded, this time accompanied by a voice. “Raven! I know you’re in there. Your car’s out front. Open up.”

Air spilled from her lungs. She recognized that voice…and it wasn’t Xander’s.