As he drove home, he gazed down at the well-developed muscles in his legs. He thought about the accident that had nearly left him paralyzed for life. About seven years ago, he had been a Marine serving the last year of his tour of duty in Iraq when the unthinkable happened. The Humvee they were driving in hit a landmine and exploded. Jax was thrown from the vehicle and landed several hundred yards away.

His legs were shattered below his knee. As he laid there in agony, writhing in pain, he could hear the actual bones rattling within his body. His legs looked like twisted, gnarled tree branches. He knew lying this low on the ground no one would be able to see him. Taking what little strength he had left, he struggled to pull himself up into a sitting position. Tears welled in his eyes as he fought every instinct to pass out. He wanted to succumb to the pain and just allow himself the luxury of unconsciousness.

“Paulson! Paulson!”

He heard his name called. Immediately, he called out.

“Over here! I’m over here! To the north!”

He heard a rustling sound to his left. He held his breath. He hoped it wasn’t the snipers that had been firing at them.

“Jax!”

Whipping his head around, to his relief, he saw his unit commander.

“Jacobson!”

His face was a picture of concern as he surveyed Jax’s legs.

“Damn, Paulson, you really know how to fuck yourself up.” He knelt down beside him. The sun was raging hot beating down upon them.

He panted as the crushing pain filled him.

He ripped his pants up the front to survey the damage. He sucked in his breath.

“Oh shit, we’ve got to get you out of here.”

Jax gazed down to see what alarmed him so. His right leg was clearly broken. The fibula was shattered and pushed up through the skin. Blood was running from his leg staining the ground beneath him.

“Fuck, I don’t know how to pick you up. Any way I move you is gonna hurt.” Jacobson rubbed his chin.

He nodded. Sweat poured from his face.

“I know. Just do it.”

“You’re losing blood fast. I want to tie it off, but I think we’d do better if we rushed you back to the medic.”

“Yes, please,” Jax replied weakly.

Jacobson scooped his huge arms underneath Jax taking great care not to hurt him. His legs screamed with pain as he cried out.

“I’m sorry, Paulson.”

After the terrible accident, he was released from service. His girlfriend at the time, Brooke came to pick him up. He was stuck in a wheelchair and couldn’t feel a damn thing below his waist. He’d spent the last few weeks at a hospital in Paris fighting for his life and his sanity.

The explosion had shattered several vertebrae in his back. It was believed in time they might heal and he may be able to walk again, but right now the muscles in his legs were ‘in shock’ or so the doctors said.

Jax spent much of the past few weeks in shock raging at God, at the Marines, at the Iraqis, and most of all, at himself for his injury. Before he’d left for Iraq, he planned to marry Brooke.

But she wouldn’t want him now.

Who would?

After she came to pick him up from the airport, he suffered many nights of terrible dreams. He couldn’t sleep without taking sleeping pills. He developed a Haldol addiction.

One night he found himself dreaming of sheets of red rain pouring down upon him. He was back there among the desert sands of Iraq walking through the deserted war torn streets. His buddy, Samuels was at his side. They were walking into an area known for deadly sniper attacks. The squad was behind them as he could hear them walking.

Suddenly, bullets began flying in every direction. They took cover in an abandoned building. Glass shattered as they all dropped to the floor.

“Jax, are you okay?” Her hand felt cool against his searing hot skin. Looking down, he expected to see himself covered in blood, but there was only a sheet.

“What? What’s going on? Where’s Samuels?”

She shook her head.

“Baby, you were only having a dream. He’s gone.”

And so it went like that every single night for a year.

He couldn’t pretend that his injury wasn’t devastating to Brooke as well. They had been planning the perfect life. It was almost surreal to sit back and watch that life flow down the drain as the life in his legs drained as well.

The accident left him with more than just crippled legs. It left him with a crippled heart as well. He couldn’t feel anything. Brooke assured him it was just PTSD, but after two years passed Jax still couldn’t feel anything for anyone inside.

Initially, Brooke had been his rock. She was everything to him. He could count on her for anything, but soon his disability began to tear them apart. Before the accident, they had been such a physically active couple mountain biking, hiking, and skiing. But now with Jax being paralyzed everything had changed. Brooke tried to remain positive telling him she didn’t mind all the weekends spent inside with him, but Jax would catch her running her hands over her bike wistfully.

“Brooke, I can’t keep holding you back. If you want to go for a ride, go. If you want to take a weekend hiking trip with your friends, go ahead. Don’t let my inability to enjoy those things keep you from them.”

She’d shake her head sadly and insist that she didn’t care about biking and hiking anymore.

But he knew she did.

“Go, Brooke, I’ll be fine!” He’d had to practically push her out the door one fall weekend to go with their old friends on a mountain biking trip.

“Are you sure, Jax?” She stroked his hair which had grown long and shaggy. As much as he loved her for her concern, she’d started to smother him. He wasn’t a helpless infant. He was paralyzed from the waist down, but he could care for himself.

She’d twirled a lock of her long blonde hair around her finger. Staring at Jax for the longest time, she bent down to pick up her backpack.

“If you’re sure,” she whispered gazing at him. He could tell how badly she wanted to go.

“I’m sure.”

As she threw her backpack over her shoulder and wheeled her bike downstairs, Jax watched through the window with tears in his eyes. He wasn’t sad as much as he was angry. He smashed his fists against his thighs knowing it would leave terrible bruises he would never feel. Jax watched as she jumped in the SUV with their friends and they drove off happily to the mountains several hours from their home.

That should’ve been him in the car beside her.

Jax had felt as dead as his legs until he reignited his passion for writing.

At first, the idea of Jax, a Marine writing romance books was laughable. He’d always loved to write, but when he envisioned becoming an author it was of horror or suspense novels never romance.

Brooke insisted it was the hottest selling genre of the moment. He had his doubts, but once he opened his laptop and started typing the words just flowed from his fingertips. He took all the pent up rage and anguish he’d been feeling and let them dictate his novels to him.

After several months, Jax had cultivated an audience. In the meantime, he was attending physical therapy and starting to walk again with the help of crutches.

Even with his legs on the mend, a huge rift had begun to develop between them. Eventually, Jax decided they should go their separate ways.

Then, all of Jax’s attention had been on writing. He finally regained the full use of his legs the month, Tempted had hit #1 on USA Today. Then he started getting all kinds of messages from female fans. They wouldn’t stop. They sent him filthy messages, X rated pictures day and night. So the idea that he would be stalked wasn’t that far-fetched.

So when Jessica approached him with this plan, he was perfectly amenable to it. He’d been missing Brooke ever since they’d broken up, so he decided to devote himself fully to his career. Taking on a publicist with a big plan had seemed the next logical step.

But something had been bothering him the past few weeks ever since the ‘stalking’ had started.

Sarah was doing more than just following him to the store or to a restaurant. She followed him everywhere. The woman who’d once appeared so beautiful to him almost seemed menacing. She was seeping into his every waking thought and it was beginning to unnerve him.

Turning down his driveway, he felt exhaustion overtake him. He knew he would never be able to sleep on his own.

Time to hit the bottle.