Navy Seal Security - Liz Johnson

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      “Do you think she’s capable of this?”

      Mandy dug her hand into her bag, rooting around for her keys for several seconds before producing them. “I don’t know. I don’t know her. But a woman scorned, well, she’s capable of nearly anything.”

      Luke nodded as the lights on her white SUV blinked. He glanced at the wheel as she opened her door, and the parking lot lights reflected off a puddle peeking out beneath her front bumper. “I think you’re leaking.”

      “I know.” She threw her bag into the car and slid behind the wheel. “It’s been leaking antifreeze for a couple days. I need to have it looked at.”

      He nodded. “You’ve had other things on your mind.” He put his hand on her door to close it. “Have a good night. Drive safe.”

      “I will.”

      The door clicked closed, and he stood silently watching her pull out of the lot and onto the major cross street. When she had disappeared, he moved toward his car, watching the pool of liquid in her empty parking spot to make sure he didn’t slip in it.

      The yellowish lights above made the puddle’s color hard to distinguish, but it wasn’t a neon color like many antifreeze brands. In fact, it looked more like oil.

      A knot in his stomach went taut, and he shifted one of his crutches to the other side so that he could bend almost all the way over. Stretching his arm as far as he could reach, he swiped a finger through the fluid. Dry and oily. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled. It smelled like fish oil.

      Like brake fluid.

      Like her brake lines had been cut.

      “Mandy!” He yelled her name, even as his throat closed. The strangled cry died quickly on the wind, and he ran as fast as his crutches would carry him to his car.

      Get to her. Get to her. Get to her.

      He had to find her before she couldn’t stop. Before she sailed through a red light or flew off a mountain road.

      He flung his crutches into his car, gritted his teeth against the eruption in his knee when he bumped his leg and peeled out of the parking lot. He whipped in front of another car and floored it in the direction she’d gone.

      She hadn’t given him her cell number. Too personal.

      But this, this was beyond personal. This was a matter of life and death.

       FOUR

      The light before the highway entrance turned yellow, and Mandy pressed her brake pedal.

      Her car barely slowed and coasted through the red light, accompanied by the angry honking of several other drivers. Her SUV let out a squeal of pain. With white knuckles, she gripped her steering wheel and tried to pull over, but there was no shoulder and she was moving too fast. A car at her side blocked her in, and one in front of her slowed way down.

      “Please. Please. Please,” she begged as she pressed her sluggish brake again. Her car gave a woeful shudder, stopping just inches from the bumper in front of her.

      “What’s wrong with you?” Leaning back, she glanced at her floor mat, which seemed to be bunched under the brake. Giving the carpet a tug, she pressed the pedal again. Her little SUV lurched but stopped.

      Much better.

      Even so, the interstate’s stop-and-go traffic could be more than trying if her brakes were being cranky. With a quick turn, she slipped into another lane. She’d take the back roads home. Dark and windy, but at least they weren’t quite as busy.

      Mandy zipped along the twisting roads as she headed up the hill, hugging the center line, keeping her distance from the sheer cliff to her right. The vertical wall of stone on the far side of the two-lane highway was almost invisible against the black sky as she worked her way out of the city. One pair of headlights in her rearview mirror and the fading red lights of three other cars in the distance before her were her only company.

      She let out a breath, already feeling the stress of the day and Gary’s visit lifting.

      Until she tapped her brakes as she crested a summit.

      Nothing happened.

      She punched them hard and gasped as the pedal reached the floor. With no response.

      Grabbing the wheel with two shaking hands, she tried to keep her vehicle in her lane as it picked up speed.

      The road before her curved back and forth, a black snake—and just as terrifying.

      Blood rushed in her ears, swallowing every other sound, including the frantic prayer leaving her lips. “Help me. Please. I need help.”

      The car behind her seemed to be gaining on her, but she couldn’t let herself be hypnotized by the white lights. Her lane seemed to narrow, and she focused on the center line.

      Just stay away from the edge. Don’t go over. And don’t miss a turn.

      Her palms turned slick, but she couldn’t risk wiping them. Mandy squeezed the steering wheel tighter, praying she wouldn’t make a wrong turn. The road had to level out. It had to.

      But it just continued its steep decline. No escape. No emergency exit.

      Emergency.

      Her emergency brake.

      She grabbed the handle next to her seat and pulled it as hard as she could. It refused to engage. The red light on the dashboard didn’t even appear. The rapid-fire beating of her heart drowned out everything except the truth. Someone had cut her brake lines and disabled her emergency brake. Someone wanted her to go off that cliff.

      The same person who had tried to run her over.

      Suddenly the headlights in her mirror barreled down on her, almost reaching her bumper before swinging up beside her.

      She couldn’t make out the car or the driver in the dark, and he swerved closer. As if in slow motion, she waved him off, but he just drew nearer. Was he trying to push her over the edge?

      She wouldn’t give him the chance.

      Leaning into the steering wheel, she swallowed the lump in her throat and pressed the gas. Her car gained a little ground before her pursuer caught up. His whole car seemed to be shaking with the effort to maintain the speed, but he kept his distance from her, hugging the far line as he whipped down the opposite lane.

      Risking a glance in his direction, she caught a waving hand and a familiar mane of shaggy blond hair.

      Luke.

      He motioned for her to roll down her window, but did she dare risk taking her hand off the wheel again? But what did she have to lose? She was dead either way.

      With one flick of her finger, the window automatically went down. Tears filled her eyes at the wind’s unrelenting assault.

      “Emer—cy. Bra—”

      The howling wind seemed to steal his words, but she tried to respond. “Broken!”

      He didn’t reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. She tried again but stopped short as a set of headlights glared right at them.

      “Car!”

      Luke shook his head and cupped a hand to his ear. Forgetting all about her sweaty palms, she jerked a hand in the direction of the truck heading right for him. At the same moment, the other driver leaned on his horn.

      Suddenly Luke was gone. Vanished as the truck careened past her, still honking his displeasure. But all she could hear was the no, no, no that crashed through her mind.

      She craned around as much as she could without losing sight of the road and caught a glimpse of the car behind her, just as the road swung wide. Overcorrecting for it, her back wheel caught the yard of gravel at the

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