Chapter Ten
Avery twisted in her seat, eyes locked on the road behind them. Nothing but rain and darkness. The truck was nowhere in sight. Still, her pulse wouldn’t slow. The adrenaline kept pounding through her, sharp and cold.
They’d come close. Too close.
If that big truck had managed to shove them into the ditch, it would have been over fast. She could picture it clearly, the SUV flipped or pinned, the shooters closing in through the rain.
Of course, she and Jackson wouldn’t have gone down easy. They would have fought back. Neither of them was the type to sit still and wait to be executed.
But it was a fight they might not have won.
She turned forward again, stealing a glance at Jackson. His jaw was set, his focus unshakable, hands tight on the wheel as the storm beat against the glass.
The thought hit her hard. They were alive because of him. Because he refused to lose control when everything else had gone to hell.
Avery drew in a shaky breath and tried to steady herself, but her heart still hammered like it was trying to break free.
They weren’t safe. Not yet.
And she knew it was only a matter of time before whoever sent that truck came after them again.
“I didn’t see who was in the truck,” Avery said, her voice still unsteady.
“Neither did I,” Jackson replied, eyes fixed on the road. His voice was calm, but she could hear the strain underneath. “You made a good shot.”
Avery looked down at the gun resting in her lap, her hands still trembling. “I wasn’t trying to play hero. It just had to be done.”
He nodded slightly. “Maybe so, but you still risked your life. I’m not happy about that.”
She gave a tired huff of breath. “Neither am I. I’m just glad it worked.”
For a few seconds, the only sound was the engine and the steady drum of rain. Jackson’s face was tight with focus as he tapped his phone’s controls on the console.
He activated the hands-free link and dictated a message. “Noah, we need a team and local law enforcement sent to this location.” He rattled off their coordinates. “Truck went off the road after a pursuit. Shots fired. Possible casualties.”
The message sent with a beep, and Jackson’s attention went right back to the road.
Avery turned her gaze to the window, watching the dark blur of trees and water streak past. “You think the truck will still be there when they get to it?”
Jackson shook his head slightly. “Doubt it. But they might find something useful.”
Avery nodded. The people chasing them were smart, but maybe they’d left behind a clue. A tire tread. A shell casing. Something the CSI could trace.
It wasn’t much hope, but right now, it was all they had.
Jackson’s phone beeped, the sound sharp over the hum of the engine. He glanced at the screen where Noah’s reply flashed.
“He’s on it,” Jackson said. “He’s sending a team and the sheriff’s office to the crash site.” His eyes flicked back to the message. “He wants to know if we’re all right.”
Avery’s gaze dropped to his hands on the wheel, steady but tight. “What are you going to tell him?”
“That we weren’t injured,” Jackson said. He hit the voice control again and dictated, “We’re fine. Need a new vehicle soon but for now taking Avery to a safe location.”
He sent it, then muttered under his breath, “I hope.”
Avery caught the edge in his voice and looked at him. “Where are you taking us? Back to your cabin?”
“No,” he said flatly. “If there was a tracker on your clothes, then the Brotherhood knows that location. We can’t go back.”
She frowned. “Then why didn’t they come there? Why didn’t they strike when they had the chance?”
Jackson’s gaze stayed on the road, his jaw tightening. “Maybe they thought they wouldn’t be able to take us there. I had too many security measures in place for them to risk a frontal attack.”
He hesitated, his voice dropping lower. “But there are always ways for someone to get through.”
Avery’s stomach clenched at that. The thought of what could have happened if Charlotte and Darian had tried harder sent a chill through her.
Jackson didn’t look at her, but his grip on the wheel said enough. He was already thinking about their next move, already running every possible angle to keep them alive.
And Avery knew he wouldn’t stop until he did.
They had a lot of questions to work out and very few answers. Everything pointed to the Brotherhood being involved in the attack, in finding her, but it could be more than that. Right now, they had a lot of info, a lot of pieces, and she wasn’t sure how they all fit.
“Did you see Darian slap Charlotte?” she asked when the image of that flashed in her mind.
“I did,” he confirmed, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
“Could have been for show. An act. Could have been the real deal, some kind of power play going on between them.” He paused.
“I would try to speak to Haver if I thought we’d get the truth, but there’s no way he’d tell us anything that could incriminate his wife or the Brotherhood. ”
Avery made a quick sound of agreement. Besides, it would be dangerous for either of them to make a trip to the prison since they could be attacked again along the way.
Jackson kept driving, his eyes constantly shifting between the road ahead and the mirrors. Every few minutes he checked behind them. Avery did, too. So far, there was nothing. No movement. No sign of pursuit.
Still, he didn’t relax.
He made turn after turn, not easily. He had to fight the blown tire, but he stuck to the backroads that cut through the open countryside.
The rain had eased to a light drizzle, and the gray daylight stretched across the rolling hills and wet pastures.
The sky looked heavy, still threatening more rain.
Avery had lost track of where they were miles ago.
Jackson grabbed his phone again and used the hands-free control. “Text Garrett McCall. Message: Code Green.”
The phone beeped in confirmation.
Avery glanced at him. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’ll be using the safe house Garrett set up,” Jackson said, his tone focused but calm. “He’s got one about forty miles from here. Off-grid, secure, stocked for emergencies.”
A moment later, the phone chimed again. Jackson glanced at the screen long enough to see Garrett’s reply: a thumbs-up emoji followed by a string of numbers.
“The entry code,” Jackson said, giving a quick nod as he turned onto another winding road. “We’ll be there soon.”
Avery looked out the window. Sunlight broke through the clouds in thin streaks, glinting off the wet fields. For the first time in hours, she could see the land clearly.
Still, the tension in her chest didn’t ease.
They were alive, yes, but far from safe.
The rain had thinned to a mist, and the sky had lightened enough to show the shimmer of the creek behind the property. The water curved gently along the tree line, quiet and steady, and a small aluminum boat bobbed at the edge of the dock.
The cabin sat back from the road, tucked into a cluster of live oaks. It looked simple enough. Wood siding, metal roof, screened porch. But Jackson’s attention went to the small glints of metal half-hidden in the trees.
“Motion sensors,” he said, pointing them out. “They’ll alert us if anyone gets close.”
Avery nodded, her gaze following his hand. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but she could tell this place was fortified.
Jackson drove up to the garage, pulled out his phone, and keyed in the code Garrett had sent. The door rolled open with a smooth hum. Inside, the space was neat, stocked with tools, a generator, and shelves of supplies. Jackson parked and shut off the engine.
“Let’s get inside,” he said, and he shut the garage door.
The cabin’s interior reminded Avery a lot of Jackson’s, practical and masculine, all clean lines and warm wood. A small kitchen opened into a living area with leather furniture and a stone fireplace. The air smelled faintly of cedar and oil from the gun cabinet in the corner.
She moved through the space, taking it in, the quiet pressing around them after hours of noise and adrenaline. Jackson was still checking the windows, making sure the locks and sensors were set.
It should have felt safe.
But safety, she’d learned, didn’t last long. That reminder made the adrenaline drain, leaving her cold and trembling.
Jackson crossed the room and crouched beside her. “Hey,” he said softly.
Before she could answer, he pulled her into his arms.
The warmth of him hit first. Solid, steady, familiar. She let herself lean into it, body to body, his heartbeat strong and sure under her cheek. For a moment, she just breathed him in and tried to remember what calm felt like.
Then he tilted her chin up and kissed her.
It started slow, careful, like he was giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to the back of her neck. She felt the tension in him, the control he fought to hold, and she met it with her own need to feel something that wasn’t fear.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. His voice was low and rough. “I’m sorry. I should’ve prevented the attack.”
She kissed him again before he could say more. “Don’t,” she whispered. “You’re not the one who should be sorry. You’re in danger because of me.”
His thumb brushed her cheek. “That’s not how I see it.”
Her chest tightened. She wanted to believe him, but the truth sat heavy between them. He was risking everything for her, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
Still, in that moment, wrapped in his arms, she didn’t want to.
Avery kept holding him, her hands resting against the solid warmth of his back. She didn’t want to let go. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t cold.
Jackson’s breath stirred against her hair. “We’re playing with fire,” he said quietly.
She knew he was right. The heat between them was sharp and dangerous, something that could burn if they let it. They’d always known that.
She thought about all the reasons they’d kept their distance after Evan’s death. Guilt. Loyalty. Fear of making something already complicated even worse. She’d told herself that keeping away from Jackson was the only right thing to do.
But standing here now, with his hands still on her waist and his heartbeat steady against hers, it felt unnecessary. Wrong, even.
They had already been through hell together. Pretending there wasn’t still something between them seemed pointless.
Then reality cut through the haze. The danger outside. The people hunting her. The need to stay focused if they wanted to survive this.
Avery stepped back, forcing herself to break the contact. Her chest ached from the loss of his warmth.
Jackson’s eyes stayed on her for a long moment. Neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, thick with everything they couldn’t say.
Finally, Avery turned away, needing the distance to catch her breath.
They might be playing with fire, but she couldn’t afford to get burned. Not now.
Jackson cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “We can use Garrett’s office,” he said. “See if we can figure out a way to nail the Brotherhood for what they’ve done.”
Avery nodded, grateful for the shift back to something practical. “All right. Let’s do it.”
They crossed the cabin to a small room off the main hall.
Garrett’s office was neat and organized, just like everything else about him.
A large desk sat beneath a window that looked out toward the creek, sunlight glinting off the slow-moving water.
Shelves lined the walls, filled with books, maps, and gear.
A high-end computer setup took up most of the desk space, along with a pair of monitors and a thick notebook full of field notes.
Jackson powered on the computer and motioned for her to sit. “Go through the podcast you did on Melissa,” he said. “See if there’s anything in your notes or recordings that could point to Darian or Charlotte being involved in her death.”
Avery sank into the chair and pulled up the files from her secure drive. The familiar folder names stared back at her, but today they felt heavier, tainted by everything that had happened.
Jackson stood beside her, watching the screens. “Remember, Mick could be lying. He might’ve killed her himself.”
Avery nodded. “I know. We can’t rule that out.” She clicked open one of the old transcripts, the interview she’d done with Melissa’s best friend. “And we can’t rule out Warren either,” she added quietly. “We still don’t know if he’s working with the Brotherhood or not.”
Jackson folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen. “Then we find out.”
Avery looked at him, at the determined set of his jaw. Whatever happened next, she knew he wouldn’t stop until they had answers.
Neither of them would.
They worked quietly for a while, the only sounds the hum of the computer and the soft creak of the cabin settling.
Avery scrolled through files, her eyes moving over notes she’d read a hundred times, hoping she’d missed something before.
Jackson sat beside her, jotting down names and details that might help them build a case.
The phone on the desk buzzed, breaking the silence. Jackson checked the screen. “It’s Noah.” He put it on speaker. “Talk to me.”
“We’ve got a problem.” Noah’s voice came through tight and clipped. “One of our techs and a tech intern were taken about a half hour ago.”
Avery’s pulse jumped. “Taken? Who?”
“Riley Burke is the intern, and Megan O’Hara is the tech. They were off-site, working a satellite link. They never made it back to headquarters.”
Jackson’s jaw tightened. “You sure it’s a kidnapping?”
“Positive,” Noah said. “We got a message from the abductors about ten minutes ago. I’m sending the photos now.”
Jackson’s phone buzzed, and the pictures came through. Avery leaned closer. The images showed the two women, both in their late twenties, seated on the floor of a dark room. Their wrists were bound, but they were alive.
Avery felt her stomach twist. “God.”
“We’re still working on the trace, but it’s got the Brotherhood written all over it,” Noah added.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the demand?”
Noah hesitated again, and Avery could almost hear the weight of his next words. “We don’t have all the details yet,” he said quietly, “and no way in hell are we going to give them what they want.”
“What’s the demand?” Jackson repeated.
Noah cursed. “The kidnappers are saying they’ll release the hostages in exchange for Avery.”