Sheriff Tate.
Gunfire cracked again through the storm.
Outside, tires squealed hard against wet pavement.
“MOVE!” Tate roared.
Another shot exploded.
Glass shattered somewhere down the block.
Trigger immediately moved toward the side windows. “They’re running!”
Wolf cursed and yanked the tavern door open just enough to look outside.
Cool rain blasted into the room.
“Tahoe heading east!” he barked.
Ava rose instantly beside the bar. “How many suspects?”
“Three minimum.”
More sirens suddenly wailed in the distance.
Close.
Fast approaching.
The fake deputies outside bolted.
Cowards.
My pulse still pounded violently as adrenaline ripped through me.
But the second I looked down?—
Flick.
That’s what mattered.
She stood behind me breathing hard, pale as hell, eyes wide with fear.
Still alive.
Thank God.
I turned fully toward her without thinking.
My hands caught her face instantly.
Warm skin.
Shaking breath.
“Hey.”
Her eyes snapped to mine.
