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Another roar punctuated her words. Hannah’s heart stuttered as the road ahead of them leaned into a sharp curve. Her gaze shot to Ryker. His attention was locked on the street, determination etching grooves across his handsome face, and Hannah knew he’d do everything in his power to get them out of this situation. But would it be enough?
Terror struck her more violently than the vehicles colliding. In an instant, everything became crystal clear. Despite her best efforts not to, she was developing feelings for Ryker. Deep ones. Powerful ones. And protecting her had put his life in danger. Hannah had already lost so many people she cared about. Her parents. Her husband. Her brother was in a war zone and her colleague had just been murdered. She didn’t think her heart could take much more.
The truck slammed into the rear of their vehicle. Hannah screamed as the SUV went into a spin. Her cell phone flew from her hand as metal against metal screeched. Glass shattered. Momentum pushed them toward a small drop-off. Trees loomed large, and then the world became topsy-turvy as the SUV rolled over and over.
Hannah’s body was shoved by uncontrollable forces like a rag doll. Pain erupted along her shoulder and collarbone as the seat belt once again gripped her. The roar in her ears drowned out everything else.
Suddenly, the vehicle came to a shuddering stop. The scent of pine and earth assaulted her senses. Hannah peeled her eyes open and realized they’d landed upside down on a tree. Branches reached inside her broken window like arms. Pine needles mixed with blood on her clothes. She drew in a shuddering breath and took three seconds to assess her body. Nothing seemed broken. She was alive, and mostly, unharmed.
“Ryker.” She twisted her head, ignoring the pain shooting up her neck from a bad case of whiplash. Her pulse shot into the stratosphere again. The side of Ryker’s head was covered in blood. It dripped from the thick strands of his black hair onto the roof of the upside-down SUV. His eyes were closed. Hannah shook his shoulder. “Ryker.”
No response.
Tears pricked her eyes as panic threatened to take hold. She wrestled it back. Fumbling with her seat belt, Hannah attempted to release the catch, but hanging upside down prevented the mechanism from disengaging. She pushed against the dented roof as leverage with one hand. Glass bit into the tender flesh of her palm.
“Come on.” Her fingers trembled as she shoved at the button to release her seat belt.
Finally there was a click. Hannah landed in a tangled heap onto the broken branches and damaged roof. Quakes trembled through her body as she maneuvered over to Ryker. She held her breath and pressed two fingers against the inner portion of his wrist, searching for a heartbeat.
He was alive.
The relief was so heady, she was dizzy with it. Hannah blinked to clear her vision. She searched for her cell phone among the wreckage, but there was no sign of it. Should she move Ryker? Or leave him be until paramedics arrived? Help was on the way. Eli had been on the phone with them when the accident happened, so he’d send deputies and other first responders.
But how far away were they? Ryker’s pulse was strong, but his head wound was bleeding steadily. There was no way to know if he had any other injuries since he was unconscious. Helplessness increased her trembles. She didn’t even have anything to stop the bleeding.
A branch cracked.
Hannah froze. She strained to hear over the sound of her ragged breathing and rapid heartbeat. Another rustle reached her ears. Someone was approaching their SUV.
Dusty? It had to be. He was coming to finish the job.
Terror streaked through her. She battled it back and forced her mind to sort through the options. Hannah could slip out of the window and escape, but that would leave Ryker alone and unconscious in the car. He wasn’t the target, but there was no way to guarantee Dusty wouldn’t kill him. The risk was too great. She couldn’t leave.
That only left one choice. Defend.
Hannah reached for the holster strapped to Ryker’s waist. She unsnapped the button holding his weapon in place and the gun slid into her hand. The metal felt cold against her heated skin. A Glock 22. She was familiar with this model, had shot it before at a range with her brother. Ben had insisted she knew how to handle a gun, even though she didn’t own one. Hannah adjusted her hold on the weapon, slipping her finger next to the trigger.
Another branch cracked. He was close. Coming at them from the right.
Hannah positioned her body to shield Ryker. Her vision narrowed as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Inside her mind, her brother’s voice cut through her fear.
Aim the weapon, hold your breath, and squeeze the trigger.
Ben made sure she practiced at the range every month when he was in town. But Hannah had only shot paper targets, never at a person. Could she actually do this? She sucked in a deep breath to slow her racing heartbeat. Then another. Her trembles slowed and then stopped. There was no choice. Ryker needed her. There was no doubt in Hannah’s mind that Dusty would kill them both the moment he reached the SUV.
Another rustle reached her ears. He was almost there.
Please, God. Please protect us. We need You now more than ever.
NINETEEN
Ryker awoke with a jolt.
He groaned. His head was pounding in time with his heartbeat, pain cruising along his scalp from the stitches hidden in his hairline. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, creating a pattern on the carpet. He winced at the brightness and blinked to rid his mind of the last vestiges of his nightmare. It didn’t fade quickly. Something about Dusty hurting Hannah. While the sequence of the dream wasn’t clear, the terror had been all too real. Ryker’s heart rate was through the roof. He sucked in a breath through his teeth to combat the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Then another.
His legs were tangled in the bedsheets and sweat coated his back. Ryker tossed the covers aside. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was nearly noon. They’d come home from the hospital in the early-morning hours. Doctors had diagnosed him with a concussion and put ten stitches in his scalp. He’d been ordered to rest. Fat chance of that happening.
Not while Dusty was still at large.
