Hero By Night (Independence Falls 3)

Chad’s hand covered hers. “Not yet. Save it

for later. Just in case things get a little tense in there and you need something to make you smile.”

“Thank you.” She formed a tight fist around the note.

“Now, let’s go get your medal,” Chad said. “Ready?”

She nodded, taking Chad’s hand. Inside, they walked down the hall past a row of cubicles toward the conference room. Dressed for the occasion in his ser­vice dog vest, Hero marched by her side. She’d left his chew toy in the car and she could have sworn he was pouting. Or maybe he sensed her rising nerves.

Lena paused in the open doorway to the conference room. Her parents and Joe sat at one end of the oval table. Both her father and brother had worn their dress uniforms. A few unfamiliar faces moved about the space, one held a large camera. She continued to scan the room, taking in every detail. Windows with the shades drawn lined one wall. A small table stood at the far end of the room with a box on it. The Silver Star. Her medal. If she stepped into the space.

Lena drew her lower lip between her teeth and her feet remained planted to the ground. It looked safe, but there were so many ­people even in this smaller venue. And she would never be able to keep an eye on every corner of the room while standing beside the table. Someone could move behind her.

A man in suit, wearing an earpiece that suggested he belonged to the vice president’s Secret Ser­vice detail, rushed into the room. Her breath caught and her hands went numb. The man moved quickly as if running away from something.

A loud crash sounded and she jumped. She had to get out of here. Run. Take cover. It wasn’t safe. At her feet, Hero barked and spun in circles, demanding her attention. She glanced down at him and felt the panic recede. But not far enough. Not this time.

She stepped back, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. Not enough oxygen. The word flashed through her mind like a warning.

“Lena?” Chad said. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t.” Her voice shook with the fear. She pulled her hand free from his, feeling the terror take hold. “I can’t . . . I can’t breathe.”

Oh God, she would suffocate, right here, with all these ­people watching, if she didn’t run. Feeling as if she was dragging her feet through quicksand, she spun around and headed for the door with Hero at her heels.

In the parking lot, she ran to the truck, pulling on the passenger side door. Locked, dammit. She stumbled to the back of the pickup and scrambled inside. Her vision blurred as she collapsed onto her back. Closing her eyes, she tried to breathe.

A weight covered her chest and a wet nose touched her ear. Hero. He’d followed her. And with his reassuring presence covering her, keeping her safe, the panic slowly faded. Sweat ran down her face. She could feel the sting in her eyes. But the worst was over. Oxygen flowed through her body again and feeling returned to her limbs.

In her hand, she felt the crumpled piece of paper. Maneuvering her arms around Hero, she lifted her hand and unfolded the note.

When you’re screaming my name, I don’t give a damn if you have a Silver Star or not. I’d rather see you stripped down, your legs spread, your fingers exploring the places I’m dying to taste. I want to run a trail of kisses over you . . .

Are you blushing yet?

Scanning the naughty words, she could hear his voice in her head, offering instructions, making demands. Maybe if she’d entered the room, she could have accepted the Silver Star, opening his note when panic threatened, and she felt her cheeks warm.

Instead, she’d run.

Her hands dropped to her sides as her eyes squeezed shut. Clutching the note in her hand, she let the tears flow.

Running away from a Silver Star, her family, and the man who cared enough to make demands from the army proved one thing. She had derailed on her road to normal. She still was too broken.

Chapter 19

CHAD WANTED TO tear to pieces the fucking idiot who’d tripped over the tripod. Dammit, he wanted this moment for her. She deserved to receive that medal. He’d tried everything he could think of to make it work, but it wasn’t enough.

Without a backward glance at her family, or the other ­people filling the small room, he turned and sprinted for the door. Maybe he couldn’t make this ceremony possible, but he refused to let her fall apart alone. Scanning the parking area, Chad spotted Hero’s tail in the bed of his pickup. Rounding the back, he heard the sobbing.

“Lena?” He froze. The sight inside the pickup’s bed gutted him. Lena was on her back with Hero covering her chest. But even beneath the dog, her entire body shook as she wept.

“Lena, can I come up?” he asked, not sure of the rules right now.

“I need to leave.” She drew a deep, shaky breath as she pushed Hero off her body and sat up. “Please, Chad. I need to get away from here now.”

“OK,” he said. “OK. I’ll going to lower the gate. Make it easier for you to climb out.”

Keeping his moments slow and measured, he lowered it and held out his hand. But she shook her head as she moved toward him and hopped out on her own. Hero followed, hugging her side. The retriever studied Lena with a furrowed brow as if he knew the panic still lingered.