Read Online Hold on Tight by Stephanie Tyler - Free Book Online

against the wall. It left a satisfying hole, and he didn’t have to finish the thought that had been running over and over in his mind.
    And then he went out the door to the back deck, into the cold air, stripped down and headed across the beach toward the water.
    The man was sitting by himself in the middle of the surf, the foam coming up over his bare body. The temperature outside had to be under fifty—the water was at least twenty degrees colder, if not more.
    When PJ had come up behind him, he’d been sobbing. Deep, heart-wrenching sounds she distinguished even above the roaring surf, his legs pulled to his chest, face buried in his knees.
    But he was silent now.
    She should’ve expected the tackle, but bracing for it would’ve made it harder on her body. As it was, he knocked the wind out of her as he laid her flat on the hard-packed sand.
    If she’d wanted, she could’ve fought him off—she’d had plenty of training, and even though he had more than a hundred pounds on her, she’d learned how to fight dirty thanks to the CIA, and even dirtier thanks to her recent stint in Africa.
    She no longer had any job now—she was an outcast, swimming by herself. And so she lay there, under this man, unafraid.
    He was hurting more than she was, and anyone hurting that much couldn’t be all bad.
    “You shouldn’t go sneaking up on people, little girl.”
    “Were you trying to kill yourself?” she asked calmly, her breath coming in short gasps. He was big. Handsome, from what she could make out of his face in the dark.
    He rolled off her suddenly, lay on his back in the sand and stared up at the sky. “I was just going for a swim. Why don’t you fuck off?”
    That did it. In a flash, she was on him, straddling his prone body, knife blade at his throat.
    “I wouldn’t flash anything you’re not planning on using,” he told her, his drawl deeper than it had been just a minute earlier.
    “Who said I’m not planning on using it?” she asked, the anger reaching a near boil far too quickly. Shit. She thought she left this back in the DRC. And in that brief second of hesitation, the man easily took control, the knife flying out of her hand.
    He towered over her while she lay on her back in the sand. “Look, honey, I’ve had a really bad week. I don’t know what your game is, but if you’re looking to rob me, you picked the wrong guy.” He pointed to his body—he wore only a pair of black boxer briefs that clung to him.
    When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, like his mind was far away. “If you need some money for a place to stay tonight, I’ll see what I can do.”
    “I don’t need money.”
    “All right, then.” He turned to walk away. When her eyes followed him, she saw a house about thirty feet up from the beach, lights on, sliding doors open. His house.
    “I’m sorry about the knife,” she said. “I really thought, when I came up on you …”
    “Who are you?”
    Who was she? Jamie still wanted her to be Sophie, but she was far more comfortable these days as PJ. Although that wasn’t saying much—most of the time, she felt ready to jump out of her skin.
    “Is that a hard question?” he asked.
    “I’m PJ. I’m not from here. I was supposed to be staying with my sister, but that didn’t work out.”
    “You’re military?”
    “I was, a long time ago.” A whole lifetime ago. “Are you sure you weren’t trying to kill yourself?”
    “No, ma’am. I’m Navy. We enjoy cold water.”
    “SEAL?” All the ones she’d known had always hated being cold and wet, but she didn’t call him on that, even when he didn’t answer her question but rather asked one of his own. “What happened with your sister? Did you pull a knife on her too?”
    In a way, she had—if he asked Jamie, she’d claim there was one buried in her back. “She’s angry.” She looked around. “Maybe I’ll hang out here for a while, if you don’t mind.”
    “Too cold.”
    “Says the man who just came from