Chapter Nine
The gunfire kept coming, sharp and relentless. The sound tore through the rain, echoing off the trees. Jackson gritted his teeth, his hands locked on the wheel.
Whoever was shooting wasn’t alone. The pattern of the shots was too fast, too steady. Either there were multiple shooters, or someone was using an automatic.
Charlotte. Darian. Maybe even Mick.
He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t see a damn thing through the rain and glare of the headlights.
“Stay down!” he shouted, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure Avery had ducked.
She had. Her head was low, her arms covering it. Good.
Jackson pressed the accelerator, sending the SUV flying down the drive. Mud and water splashed over the windshield, the wipers barely keeping up. Another burst of gunfire rattled against the reinforced panels, the sound like hail against metal.
Then came a heavy thud. The SUV jolted hard to the left. Jackson swore.
A bullet had hit the tire. It wouldn’t blow completely. These tires were bullet-resistant. But the impact had cost him pressure. The vehicle wobbled, pulling left as he fought to keep it straight.
He gripped the wheel tighter, forcing it back into line. “Hold on,” Jackson warned her.
Rain and mud streaked across the glass. The headlights cut through the storm in broken flashes, and still, he couldn’t see who was firing.
Whoever they were, they were close. And they weren’t letting up.
Jackson fought the wheel, muscles straining as the SUV fishtailed on the slick road. The damaged tire dragged, pulling hard to the left, and he had to jerk it back to keep from sliding into the ditch.
He could feel it, air bleeding out fast. He wouldn’t get far before the tire gave completely.
“Buckle up!” he shouted over the rain. “And get your gun ready, just in case.”
Avery’s voice came tight from the backseat. “I’m on it.”
Good. He needed her alert, not panicked.
The gunfire cut off as suddenly as it had started, leaving only the roar of the rain and the grind of the damaged tire. Jackson glanced in the mirror, scanning the darkness behind them. For a few seconds, there was nothing but sheets of rain. Then a pair of headlights appeared.
Big ones.
A truck.
It came fast, the lights bouncing over the uneven road as it gained on them.
Jackson’s pulse kicked up. It wasn’t the van Darian and Charlotte had been in, and it wasn’t Mick’s truck either. But that didn’t mean anything. They could have swapped vehicles. Or maybe they’d brought in backup.
A hired gun.
The kind who didn’t stop shooting until the job was done.
Jackson’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Hang on, Avery,” he said, voice low and steady. “This isn’t over.”
He pressed harder on the accelerator, the SUV groaning as it surged forward through the rain.
The truck slammed into the back of the SUV, the impact jolting through the frame. Metal shrieked against metal, the force shoving the vehicle forward. Jackson gripped the wheel tight, fighting to keep control.
The rain came harder, pounding the windshield until the wipers struggled to keep up. The road was slick, and the tires slid every time he tried to correct. Another hit came, harder than before, and the SUV fishtailed. Jackson clenched his jaw and forced it back into line.
“Hold on!” he shouted.
The truck rammed them again, trying to shove them into the ditch. Each hit came closer together, deliberate and brutal. Whoever was driving knew exactly what they were doing.
Jackson’s hands ached from the strain of the wheel. He managed to steady the SUV again, but he could feel the damaged tire pulling. One more good hit, and he might lose control completely.
Up ahead, the headlights revealed a series of sharp curves cutting through a stand of trees. The sight made his stomach feel damn uneasy. It was the perfect place to run them off the road.
If the truck forced them into one of those turns, they wouldn’t stay upright. They’d roll, or slam into a tree, and then the shooters would finish the job.
Jackson pressed harder on the accelerator, trying to gain distance, but the truck stayed close, its headlights bright and unyielding in the mirror.
They weren’t trying to scare him. They meant to kill them both.
Jackson’s focus stayed locked on the slick road ahead, the truck’s headlights still glaring in the mirror. The engine growled, the tires sliding just enough to make every second a fight for control.
Behind him, Avery’s voice cut through the chaos. “I’m going to shoot at them.”
“No!” Jackson barked, eyes flicking to the mirror. “Don’t. You’ll—”
Too late.
He heard the whir of the window lowering, the rush of rain and wind pouring in. He couldn’t take his eyes off the road long enough to stop her, but he prayed she’d stay inside the vehicle.
A gunshot cracked through the storm, loud and close. Jackson flinched at the sound, but kept the SUV steady.
The bullet hit its mark.
The truck behind them jerked, the front end veering sideways. Its windshield shattered in a spiderweb of broken glass. The headlights swung wildly as the driver tried to regain control.
Jackson saw it all in the rearview mirror. The truck skidded, fishtailed once, then slid across the slick pavement. Mud exploded upward as the vehicle slammed nose-first into the boggy ground beyond the ditch.
The roar of the engine behind them died, leaving only the sound of rain and the labored growl of their own SUV.
Jackson exhaled, tension still tight in his chest. “Damn it, Avery,” he muttered. “You could’ve killed yourself.”
But even as he said it, he knew she’d saved them both.
If he were alone, Jackson would have turned the SUV around and gone back. He would have dragged the bastards out of that wreck and made damn sure they couldn’t fire another shot.
But Avery was with him, and that changed everything.
He couldn’t take that risk. Not now.
Jackson tightened his grip on the wheel and pressed the accelerator. The damaged tire thudded with every rotation, but the SUV held steady. Rain hammered the roof, the sound so loud it drowned out everything else.
A quick glance in the mirror showed only darkness. No headlights. No movement. The truck was down for now, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think it was over.
He kept his focus on the winding road ahead. “You all right back there?” he called out, his voice rough.
“I think so,” Avery said, her tone shaky but strong.
“Good. Stay down.”
He pushed the SUV harder, weaving through the curves, doing whatever it took to put more distance between them and the wreck.
The storm swallowed the sound of the crash behind them, but Jackson’s gut stayed tight. Whoever those shooters were, they’d regroup.
And when they did, they’d come hunting again.