He hadn’t met the goals he’d set before coming, and failure wasn’t an option right now. He had to get himself back on track.
The retreat offered counseling, career advisement, and group therapy sessions among other things. All in an idyllic oceanfront setting.
Ty Chambers, a former SEAL who had a heart for helping others recover and reacclimate to civilian life, ran the program.
But Gunner felt the same today as he had when he’d come two weeks ago—not by any fault of Ty’s.
Gunner had held himself back. Hadn’t opened up the way he should have.
He supposed he didn’t want anyone else to see just how much he struggled. Didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him.
He’d been the star quarterback in high school. The leader of his SEAL platoon.
He hated for anyone to see him so . . . so weak.
That was why Gunner had driven to this remote beach on the other end of the island. He’d parked in a public lot and crossed the dune to the nearly private stretch of seashore.
Though they were in the middle of tourist season, no one else was here—just as he’d hoped. His goal was to walk across the beach to the lighthouse.
The hike was especially challenging because of what was known in this area as sugar sand. The fine grains weren’t packed hard like the sand on some beaches. Instead, with every step his feet sank and his walk was at least twice as challenging.
On a positive note, the landscape around him was beautiful. The June day couldn’t be more gorgeous with its blue sky, low humidity, and comforting breeze.
At one time, Gunner would have looked at this moment and thanked God for his blessings.
But if he were honest with himself, he hadn’t been talking to God much lately. Not since his accident.
Maybe one day that would change. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t.
He paused as a sound cut through the air.
Was that a . . . scream?
His muscles stiffened. He’d become all too familiar with the sounds of war. Of terror. Of battle.
He could pick them out a mile away.
He knew without a doubt that danger was close. That someone was in trouble.
Gunner picked up his pace as he scanned the landscape around him. But he didn’t see anyone or any movements. Only the waves crashing onto the beach and the wind-blown woods beyond that. On the other side of the trees, the lighthouse stood as a beacon for lost travelers.
Had someone nearby been injured?
Sounds could carry across the water, but Gunner couldn’t be certain exactly where that cry for help had come from.
That’s when he saw a man and a woman tumble from the woods and fall onto the sand.
No, not tumble.
The man had tackled the woman, and she tried to fight him.
She screamed again, clearly in trouble.
She needed help, and God—if He existed—had sent her Gunner? A man without a leg?
He shook off the unwelcome thoughts.
This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself.
Instead, Gunner would do whatever he could to help her.
With that thought in mind, he yelled, “Hey!”
Then he sprinted across the sand, desperate to reach the woman in time.
CHAPTER
TWO
Noelle struggled against the attacker on top of her.
Fight. Fight with everything you’ve got inside you. Never give up.
She remembered the words all too well.
They’d been whispered to her when she’d nearly lost her life a little more than two years ago.
With that encouragement in mind, she used her knees. Her arms. Every last ounce of strength inside her to try to get her attacker off.
The man didn’t want to kill her. He could have already done that.
Instead, he wanted her for another reason.
That was almost more terrifying.
Noelle let out a guttural yell and tried to push him off again.
The man muttered vulgar insults as he tried to get her under control.
He pinned her again and glared at her, his nostrils flaring.
Then he muttered something in another language.
She froze when she heard his words, and everything went still around her.
What had he said? And why did it sound familiar?
Images of her time in captivity flashed back to her.
The cold, dark room where she’d been imprisoned.
The overwhelming fear and despair that had tried to claim her.
Then . . . a test tube.
A test tube?
Noelle hadn’t seen any test tubes when she was being held captive.
Where had that image come from? Wires were getting crossed in her brain.
As quickly as the shock and false memories washed over her, they disappeared.
Her fight for survival surged.
There had to be something she could do!
She wasn’t going to let this guy take her anywhere.
Just then, she heard someone yell, “Hey!”
Her attacker jerked his head toward the sound.
Noelle seized the opportunity and grabbed a handful of sand.
She remembered a friend recently telling her a story about how to use sand as a weapon.
As the man turned back toward her, Noelle flung the grains at his face, careful to protect her own eyes.
He howled with pain and loosened his hold on her.
When he did, Noelle twisted and pushed him away.
She scrambled to her feet and ran.
A man on the beach in the distance sprinted toward her.
She didn’t hesitate to make a beeline for him.
She didn’t know him. Didn’t need to.
He appeared strong, capable, and willing to help. That’s all she needed to know at the moment.
Noelle didn’t look back. She had to put as much distance as possible between herself and her attacker.
She reached the man sprinting toward her on the beach and grabbed his arm. Desperation pulsed through her. “You’ve got . . . to help me.”
Then she turned back toward her attacker.
She blinked as she tried to catch her breath.
The man was gone.
He must have ducked into the woods for cover.
But what was he planning now? Had he left? Or was he circling around only to attack again?
Noelle braced herself, halfway expecting him to reappear closer. To dash out of the woods stronger and more aggressive than before.
She clutched the Good Samaritan’s bicep harder and braced herself for what might happen next.
The woman’s fingers dug into Gunner’s skin as he started to go after the man.
But he knew the guy was too far away.
Gunner would never catch up.
Besides, the police were on their way. He’d called them as he ran.
The important thing was that this woman was safe.
However, that didn’t mean she was okay.
Gunner glanced at her, his gaze skimming the top of her head as she continued to stare into the woods.
Her hand shook as she shoved it through her light-brown hair. In fact, her entire body trembled.
But he didn’t see any visible injuries.
“Did he hurt you?” Tension wavered in his voice as he asked the question.
It was an abomination when men hurt women or children.
He wouldn’t stand for it.
“I’m . . . I’m fine.” She continued to hold onto Gunner as if he were a shield.
He didn’t complain. She could hold onto him all she wanted.