Page 120 of Lethal Danger

The dog locked his stare on Hawthorne and barked repeatedly.

“Where is she, Flash?”

The K-9 spun and took off.

Hawthorne raced to keep up, tearing around the curve bordered by trees on both sides. He frantically scanned the path ahead as it straightened.

Jazz.

He froze. Staring.

Her body lay on the ground.

His heart stopped. Was she dead?

Barks answered the horrible question. Flash wouldn’t be getting help if she were dead. Would he?

Hawthorne pushed his legs forward, fear of what he might see up close holding him back.

Chunks and splinters of wood mingled with scattered piles of dirt on the ground.

A slim tree lay across the path, blocking his access to Jazz. Its trunk was splintered and cracked.

He jumped over it as Flash must have done, adrenaline hitting his bloodstream and overcoming his trepidation. “Jazz!”

He jogged to her.

Flash stopped barking as Hawthorne neared, whining with a single wag of his tail.

Hawthorne stopped next to—

Jazz raised her hand off the ground.

“Jazz.” Hawthorne’s heart lurched, and he dropped to his knees beside her. She was alive.

She braced her elbow against the ground as if trying to sit up.

He slid an arm around her back and helped her. His chest squeezed at the sight of the small, bloody cuts that scratched her cheek and forehead. “You probably shouldn’t move.”

But she drew in her legs to stand anyway. Stubborn woman.

He kept his arm behind her back and lifted her to her feet. Then without another thought, he pulled her into an embrace, cradling her against his chest.

He couldn’t help it. She could’ve died.

So that’s what he said as he caressed her silky hair with his thumb. “I thought you might be dead.”

She leaned her head back and brought her gaze up to his. Something shimmered in her emerald eyes. Tears? Was she hurt?

“I’m sorry.” He loosened his hold around her, lowering his hands to gently brush down her arms. “Are you injured?”

She shook her head, watching him with what looked like wonder. Maybe her head injury had left her a little confused.

His hand went to her face, cupping her cheek as his thumb neared one of the red marks. “Your face is scratched. Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere else?”

“Pretty sure.” Her gaze didn’t leave his.

She was breathtaking. Twigs in her mussed ponytail and scratches and dirt smudges on her face couldn’t do a thing to diminish her stunning beauty. Or the effect she seemed to be having on him.

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