Chapter 89 Carter
Carter
The SUV cut down the mountain road, tires spitting gravel, the forest blurring past in streaks of green and gray. My rifle stayed leveled on Sable’s chest, finger brushing the trigger guard, every muscle tight as wire.
He sat slouched against the seat, wrists bound, eyes flicking between us like he was cataloguing our weaknesses. I could see the calculation in his smirk, the way he breathed slow, like time was his ally.
River watched him from the front passenger seat, sharp and silent. Cyclone’s knuckles were white on the wheel, his jaw locked. Gideon tapped at his laptop, the glow painting his face pale in the dim interior.
No one spoke. The quiet was too heavy, too brittle.
We hit the first switchback, the SUV leaning as Cyclone slowed to keep control. My eyes swept the tree line automatically, searching for glints of steel, the unnatural shapes of rifles hidden among branches.
Nothing yet.
But my gut burned.
Sable tilted his head, voice low and taunting. “You feel it too, don’t you? That prickle on the back of your neck? They’re out there. Redwood doesn’t let assets disappear without a fight.”
I shoved the rifle muzzle harder against his ribs. “Shut up.”
He only grinned wider, teeth red from dried blood. “When they come, they won’t aim for me. They’ll aim for you. Because you’re her shield. Break the shield, and she shatters.”
The words ripped through me, white-hot fury sparking down every nerve. My finger tightened, just a breath away from pulling the trigger—
Then River’s voice cut sharp. “Contact.”
I snapped my head up. Through the windshield, black SUVs barreled onto the road ahead, blocking the curve. Doors flung open, men pouring out, rifles raised.
An ambush.
Cyclone cursed and slammed the brakes, the SUV skidding to a hard stop. Gravel sprayed the air, the world narrowing to seconds, choices, survival.
I threw the door open, rifle up, heart pounding with one thought burning hotter than the gunfire about to erupt—
I have to get back to her.