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Shit!

I stopped running again, my side hurt, and I couldn’t run. God, I was having trouble seeing. My lungs were burning, and my legs felt like jelly. I needed to push forward. I had to keep moving. But I⁠—

The gunshot cracked through the air like thunder.

What the fuck?!

I hit the ground instinctively, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Glenda had a gun?

Of course, she had a gun. How could I have been so stupid?

“I don't want to hurt you!” Her voice carried through the trees, closer than I'd expected. “But I can't let you leave! We belong together!”

Another shot rang out, and I heard the bullet hit a tree somewhere to my right.

I army-crawled forward through the undergrowth, trying to put as much distance as possible between myself and the sound of her voice. Every few seconds, I heard her crashing through the woods behind me, getting closer.

I hit my head against a tree trunk and fell backward.

Motherfucker!

Tears sprang up, and I blinked to clear my vision.

I hurt all over.

“Joy! You need to come back to me, right now.”

I felt the third gunshot before I heard it, or did I hear it before I felt it? It didn’t matter as the bullet that hit my shoulder launched me sideways into a tree limb, and I hit my head again. It should have hurt, but I was too panicked to let pain stop me. I had to keep going.

I dove face forward with one arm in front of me into a bunch of ferns, doing my best to hide.

I heard her getting closer.

So close.

“You are not going to get away from me. We were meant to be together. It’s our destiny. Even if we have to die. We will be together.”

This was not how I was going to die. Not in the middle of nowhere, hunted by a delusional woman with a gun.

I thought about Graham, lying in that hospital bed, probably wondering where I was. I thought about Little Grandma, who had survived the Depression and seen her sons die. I thought about all the people who were counting on me to come home.

I wasn't going to die here. Not like this.

I pushed up on my good arm and started running again.

Chapter Thirty-Six

My Harley rumbled beneath me like a caged beast, every vibration sending shockwaves through my skull. My truck might have been the easier choice, but my bike was much better for maneuverability. The comm system inside my helmet crackled with static, the earpiece pressing against my head like a vise. The sounds of the other men talking were like bass drums.

I didn't give a damn.

The pain was nothing compared to the terror eating me alive from the inside. Joy was with that psycho bitch, and every second I wasted feeling sorry for myself was another second she was in danger.

My ribs screamed in protest as I leaned into the first curve, the bike responding to my commands despite the way my vision kept blurring at the edges. The doctors had said I had a severe concussion, that I needed rest and medication and absolutely no physical exertion.

They could kiss my happy ass.