Chapter Six #2
“Stay close to me,” he said, his voice steady and calm. “I’ve got equipment that’ll alert me if we’re being tailed, but I need you watching the mirrors and the road. Anything out of place, you tell me.”
She nodded, heart thudding. “Got it.”
They headed into the garage. The SUV waited where he’d parked it the day before, dark and solid, its interior smelling faintly of oil and leather. Avery slid into the passenger seat and keyed in the address on her phone. “It’s about sixty miles out,” she said.
Jackson started the engine, the low growl filling the small space. “Then we’d better get moving.”
He eased the vehicle out of the garage, shut the door, and headed down the narrow dirt drive. The sky was a flat gray, the kind that pressed low over the hills, and a fine drizzle streaked across the windshield. The wipers swept it away in slow, rhythmic arcs.
They drove in silence at first, the road winding through the Texas Hill Country. The trees were dark with rain, their branches bending under the weight of it. Water pooled in shallow ditches, and the gravel roads kicked up wet grit beneath the tires.
Avery stared out the window, her mind spinning with every turn. The closer they got, the heavier the tension grew. Each mile felt like another layer of risk added to the pile already hanging over them.
Jackson’s focus never wavered. His hands stayed steady on the wheel, eyes scanning the mirrors, the road, the skyline ahead. He looked calm, but she could feel the alertness coming off him like heat.
It wasn’t lost on her that she trusted him more than anyone else in the world right now. And that trust came with its own weight.
As they crested a low ridge, the drizzle thickened into rain, tapping steady against the windshield. The wipers kept time with her heartbeat, quick and uneasy, as they drove deeper into the gray.
The rain kept falling, a steady curtain against the windshield. They had been on the road for almost an hour when Avery finally broke the silence.
“There hasn’t been much time to catch up,” she said, her voice soft. “How have you been, Jackson?”
He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Fine.”
It sounded automatic, practiced. Then he gave a low breath, like he was reconsidering. “Fine until the mission where I got hurt.”
She turned toward him. “What happened?”
He hesitated, then said, “It was supposed to be a quick extraction. Something went sideways. One of our men got pinned down, and I went after him. We made it out, but not before a piece of shrapnel tore through my leg.” His jaw tightened. “I got lucky, though. Could’ve been a lot worse.”
Avery frowned. “Is that why you’re on leave?”
“Yeah. They said take time off. Heal. So here I am.” He looked at her briefly, then back to the road. “What about you? How have you been?”
She gave a small, humorless laugh. “Definitely not fine.”
He didn’t respond, waiting her out the way he always had when she needed to talk.
“It’s a lonely life,” Avery finally said. “I have to lie to everyone I meet, watch every word, every move. Always wondering if someone’s watching me back. It’s exhausting.”
Jackson’s hands stayed steady on the wheel, but his expression softened.
“I’m so tired of living in fear,” she said, staring out at the rain-blurred horizon. “Because it’s not really living. I’m ready for a showdown with the Brotherhood, ready to end this, but…”
He glanced at her. “But what?”
She hesitated. “I’m worried about you getting caught up in it.”
His answer came without hesitation. “I’m already caught up.”
Avery looked at him then, really looked. The hard lines of his face, the steadiness in his eyes. He wasn’t just saying it for her. He meant it.
And that realization scared her more than anything else.
They turned off the main road onto a long stretch of gravel lined with scrub oak and mesquite. The rain had eased to a mist, but the sky stayed heavy and gray, the kind that made everything look washed out and lonely.
Jackson slowed the SUV and pulled to the side. “This should be the road,” he said, scanning the GPS. “You sure this is the place?”
Avery nodded. “Yeah. Keep going straight about half a mile. You’ll see the turnoff.”
He reached for a small handheld scanner from the console. Lights flickered across the screen as he swept it over the area. “No heat signatures around the property. Just one inside the house. Looks like he’s alone.”
Her stomach tightened. “That fits. He likes his privacy.”
Jackson gave her a sidelong glance. “How’d he end up living out here anyway?”
“It used to be his family’s hunting place,” she said. “He moved out here a few years ago. Said he liked the quiet, but I think he just didn’t want people too close.”
Jackson grunted. “Guess that worked in his favor until now.”
He started the SUV again and drove up the narrow drive, tires crunching over wet gravel. The trees opened into a clearing, and Warren’s house came into view. A low, single-story cabin with a wide porch and a rusted pickup parked out front. Smoke drifted from the chimney, faint against the gray sky.
Jackson slowed to a crawl, eyes scanning the area again. Everything looked still. Too still.
Before he could pull up to a full stop, the front door opened.
Warren stepped out, blinking against the drizzle. When he saw her, he froze. A mix of emotions crossed his face—shock, guilt, something like fear—but then his shoulders dropped, and he gave her a hesitant smile that looked more like relief.
“Avery,” he said, voice rough from surprise. “You’re alive.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a statement or an accusation.
They climbed out of the SUV, boots crunching on the wet gravel. Warren stayed on the porch, watching them come closer. He didn’t appear to be armed, but Jackson’s hand hovered near his side anyway.
When they reached the steps, Warren lifted a hand. “Come in out of the rain,” he said. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”
The outside of the house looked like a hunting cabin, all rough-cut wood and weathered shutters.
Inside, though, it was a different story.
The space opened into a large main room with polished floors, clean lines, and a bank of screens along one wall.
Audio equipment and studio lights took up most of the space, along with stacks of hard drives and labeled boxes.
Avery took it all in, the contrast jarring. This wasn’t just a home. It was a small media hub. Warren managed at least a dozen podcasts out of here, each one pulling in solid traffic.
He closed the door behind them and turned to face her. “I’ve been worried about you,” he said. “When I heard what happened, I tried calling, but you disappeared. What’s going on?”
Avery reminded herself to play the part she’d come here to play. Not hostile, not yet, but she wanted to get Warren to talk. Best to do that with honey rather than vinegar.
“I wanted to call you,” she said, moving closer. Not touching him though. She wasn’t sure she could stomach that. But she kept her expression pleasant enough. She hoped. “I wanted to find out what you knew about…me. About everything.”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
She took another step closer, ignoring the flicker of unease in her stomach. “Someone sold me out, they gave my identity to the Brotherhood.” She paused, studying him. “There are rumors that you could have been the one to do that.”
The color drained from his face. “What? Avery, I’d never—”
Jackson cut him off. “Don’t lie. You’re the only one who could’ve done it. You had access to everything about Avery, and you knew exactly who to call.”