Ava
I’m so happy and so scared at the same time that my heart feels like it’s doing joyful cartwheels across a sunny meadow while simultaneously hiding under the couch with its paws over its eyes.
Jax’s deep, rough promises about our future home in Timber Creek still echo warmly inside my chest, wrapping around my racing heart like the coziest blanket.
I can already picture it so clearly. Me happily rearranging his bookshelves while he leans in the doorway and growls at how cute I look doing it.
Lazy mornings tangled in soft sheets with his big warm body pressed against mine.
Even lazier nights where he claims me so thoroughly, so completely, that I forget how to form a single coherent sentence.
I love him. Deeply. Madly. The kind of all-consuming love that makes a book-obsessed librarian like me believe in real-life heroes with growly voices and strong hands that know exactly how to hold a woman together when the world is falling apart.
But the cartel’s coming. I can feel it like icy fingers crawling up my spine, in the way the warm cabin air suddenly turns too still and too heavy, pressing down on my shoulders.
The story Mike Delaney ran is out there now, floating through the night like a beacon, and those dangerous, ruthless men are hunting me.
My brain keeps trying to narrate this as the big dramatic climax right before the swoony happily ever after, complete with heroic music and a dramatic slow-motion kiss.
But my actual body is trembling with real, bone-deep fear that makes my stomach twist into painful knots and my palms sweat despite the chill.
I’m still perched on the edge of the sturdy wooden table with Jax standing tall and protective between my thighs, his big warm hands gripping my waist and his mouth hovering so close to mine that I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips.
When a loud, violent crash explodes outside, my entire body jolts hard.
Glass shatters somewhere near the front of the cabin with a sharp, terrifying crack, followed immediately by the sharp, deafening pops of gunfire that rip through the quiet night like thunder.
My heart leaps violently into my throat, pounding so hard I can taste coppery fear on the back of my tongue.
“Jax!” I gasp, my fingers clutching desperately at his shirt, the fabric bunching tightly in my fists.
His entire body shifts in an instant into pure, lethal protector mode.
Those stormy-gray eyes harden like forged metal, his jaw locking tight as he sets me gently but firmly on my feet.
He presses a quick, fierce kiss to my forehead, his lips burning hot against my cold skin.
“Bathroom. Now. Lock the door and don’t come out until I come get you.
I mean it, Ava. Stay hidden no matter what you hear. ”
I nod frantically, my legs already moving even though they feel like wobbly jelly, weak and unsteady beneath me. “Be careful. I love you.”
I run. I run as fast as I can mentally berating myself for skipping cardio all those mornings because I was too tired to get up.
I blame the late night reading. Trying my hardest to finish one more chapter.
Behind me, more gunfire erupts in a chaotic storm of cracks and shouts, the sounds bouncing off the log walls and vibrating through my bones.
My breath comes in short, panicked bursts, ragged and too fast, making my head spin.
The bathroom door feels like it’s miles away even though it’s only a few desperate steps.
I slam it shut behind me with a bang that rattles my teeth.
I slide down the wall until I’m crumpled on the cold tile floor, the chill seeping straight through my clothes and into my bones.
I pull my knees tight to my chest, hugging them hard as I strain every sense to hear what’s happening beyond this flimsy wooden barrier.
My pulse thunders so loudly in my ears it almost drowns everything else out.
It feels like eternity. Every single second stretches into painful, agonizing minutes.
Gunshots continue to crack through the night, some terrifyingly close, others echoing farther away in the trees.
I hear harsh men shouting in angry Spanish, their voices sharp and vicious, followed by Jax’s deep, commanding roar cutting through it all like a blade.
That sound makes my heart swell with terrified pride even as fresh tears sting my eyes.
But then everything goes eerily, horribly quiet.
Too quiet. The silence presses in like a heavy weight, thick and suffocating.
My mind spirals wildly into the darkest possibilities.
Is Jax hurt out there in the snow, bleeding?
Is he lying motionless because he was protecting me?
Dead? The thought sends a wave of nausea rolling through me.
Hot tears burn down my cheeks as I rock gently back and forth on the floor, whispering desperately to myself like the hopeless romantic I am.
“He’s okay. He has to be okay. Our story doesn’t end here. It can’t. Please, Jax…”
The silence drags on forever, each heartbeat feeling like a hammer against my ribs.
I press my ear desperately to the door, listening so hard that my pulse thunders painfully in my head.
Nothing. No heavy footsteps. No familiar growly voice calling my name.
Just the faint howl of the wind outside and the rapid, terrified beat of my own scared heart echoing in the small space.
Then the bathroom window explodes inward with a deafening, shattering crash.
Glass rains down around me in a sharp, glittering storm, the tiny shards stinging and slicing across my arms and face like icy needles.
I scream, the sound raw and terrified, as two large, brutal men in dark clothes burst through the broken frame.
Snow and freezing wind swirl in violently behind them, carrying the sharp metallic scent of gunpowder, blood, and pure danger.
Their faces are twisted with cruel, victorious sneers.
“No!” I shriek, scrambling backward on the tile, my hands cutting on the broken glass as I try to get away.
There’s nowhere to go. One of them lunges forward and grabs my ankle in a bruising grip, yanking me roughly toward him while the other clamps a large, calloused hand brutally over my mouth.
I kick and thrash wildly, my heels connecting with something solid that earns me a pained grunt.
I bite down hard on the fingers covering my lips, tasting hot, metallic blood, and scream again the second his hand slips. “Jax! Jax, help me!”
“Shut up, puta,” one of them snarls viciously, his accent thick and filled with hate.
They haul me up between them like I weigh nothing at all, my arms pinned painfully behind my back until my shoulders scream in protest. They drag me kicking and screaming through the jagged broken window and out into the freezing night.
The snow bites viciously at my exposed skin, soaking through my clothes instantly and turning them heavy and freezing against my body.
I keep fighting with every ounce of terrified strength I’ve got left, twisting and bucking and clawing, but their grips are like iron shackles.
They toss me roughly into the back of a dark van parked just beyond the tree line.
My head smacks hard against the cold metal floor, sending bright stars bursting painfully behind my eyes and a wave of dizziness crashing over me.
The doors slam shut with a horrifying, final bang, plunging me into dim, stuffy darkness that smells overwhelmingly of oil, sweat, and death.
The engine roars to life with a guttural growl, and the van lurches forward violently.
Tires spin and whine on the snowy ground before finally catching traction.
I crawl desperately toward the back doors on my hands and knees, pounding on them with my bloody fists even as hot tears stream uncontrollably down my face. “Jax! Please… someone help!”
But the van speeds away faster, bouncing and jolting over rough terrain, carrying me farther and farther from the man I love and the beautiful future we just promised each other.
My heart still clings desperately to the hope of a heroic rescue, but right now all I feel is pure, soul-crushing terror and the aching, hollow emptiness where Jax’s strong, protective arms should be.
I curl into a tight, shivering ball on the freezing metal floor, whispering his name like a broken prayer over and over as the van takes me deeper into the dark, unforgiving night.