Make Mine a Marine by Julie Miller

standard type, were these simple words, “Nothing can save you from your fate.”
    Nothing . The word tormented her. Deathly fear consumed her. She hadn't been threatened before. The only danger had been inside her head. Why would someone threaten her? BJ paused. Then she realized the message was on Brodie's car. It was intended for Brodie. Someone didn't want him investigating the security leak. Someone wanted him out of the way.
    Permanently.
    “BJ?”
    The familiar deep voice boomed across the parking lot. She turned from the crumpled paper in her hand to see Brodie searching the shadowy parking lot for her. BJ sagged with relief. She ran to him, wanting to fling herself into his arms and beg that he protect her from the nightmare unfolding on the screen inside.
    But she heard another sound that stopped her in her tracks. An engine revved, hidden somewhere in the darkness. When the tires squealed on the pavement, BJ remembered the note in her hand, the threat to Brodie.
    A dark car lurched onto the roadway, picking up speed. Brodie jumped off the curb, running toward her.
    She screamed his name and dashed forward, wanting him to move out of the path of the car. His gaze snapped from the oncoming vehicle to BJ.
    “No!” The gleam of a chrome bumper flashed before her eyes.
    With a flying leap, she launched herself at Brodie to push him to safety.
    “BJ! No!”
    When she hit the wall of his chest, he twisted and wrapped his arms around her like a shield.
    She felt the horrible impact that knocked them both to the ground and sent them sliding several feet across the pavement. Brodie landed on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs. She heard a crunch and Brodie's muffled “oof” and felt a burning along the side of her left leg and shoulder.
    They came to a stop when they hit the grass at the curb. BJ lay stunned, smothered in the vice of Brodie's arms and chest. When she could breathe again, she squirmed until she wedged a little space to free her arms. She snatched Brodie around the neck, hugging him close and burying her cheek against his collar.
    “This is all my fault. I'm so sorry I got you involved in all this.”
    Brodie rolled onto his back, bringing BJ on top of him, holding her securely with one arm. His hand roamed up and down her arms and across her back. “Are you hurt?”
    The car speeding from the scene wouldn't register until later. At the moment, BJ could only revel in the warmth and strength of the man who held her.
    “C'mon, honey, answer me.” His hand pressed a little harder. Then, when his fingers touched the raw skin on BJ's shoulder, she gasped and stiffened. “BJ?”
    She relaxed against him once more. “It's no worse than skinning my knee. I think I did a really good job of that, too. But nothing serious.”
    “Thank God.” He squeezed her tightly. BJ clung to him, needing his solid security to anchor her in the midst of fear and chaos. He understood. He protected.
    He pushed her away.
    Abruptly, BJ found herself sitting on the ground beside Brodie's prone figure. With an awkward lack of grace, he pushed himself up to a sitting position facing her.
    “What the hell did you think you were doing?” Fury raged darkly in his turbulent eyes.
    “What the hell was I doing? I saved your life! Someone tried to kill you.”
    “He was trying to kill you!”
    BJ scrambled to her feet, searching for the note. She plucked the torn paper from the spot where it landed and returned to Brodie. She knelt beside him, ignoring the stinging wound on her leg, shoving the paper at him. “I found it under your windshield, 'Mister Attack Me Now When I'm Already Scared To Death' Maxwell. Somebody doesn't want you to help me.”
    With one hand, he unballed it and quickly read the contents, muttering a string of expletives when he finished. Just as quickly, he stuffed the note into his pocket and reached for BJ's hand. Slower to cool than he, she resisted at first. Then she looked into his eyes and saw