Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
RAVEN
Raven jerked awake in the darkness, heart already hammering.
Something was wrong. She didn't know what had pulled her from a deep sleep, just that primal instinct honed from months of sleeping in a house where danger lurked in every shadow. Somehow her body understood before her mind could catch up: they were out of time.
She snatched her phone from the nightstand. 11:35 PM. It was almost the witching hour, when honest people slept and men like Bo Hollister did their worst.
A text from Jesse lit up the screen. Her blood turned to ice:
Compromised. Immediate danger. Get out now.
Raven was out of bed before conscious thought could paralyze her, moving on adrenaline and the survival training Uncle Martin had drilled into her since she was twelve.
All those lessons and drills he pushed her through suddenly made sense.
He'd been training her for this exact moment, preparing her to survive a world where men like Bo Hollister made the rules.
She pulled on jeans with shaking hands, her mind racing through possibilities, each worse than the last. Bo knew about Jesse's betrayal, about the stolen documents.
He was coming, and this time there would be no warnings, no Sunday deadlines, just violence delivered with the efficiency of a man who'd done this a hundred times before.
The go-bag sat in her closet where she'd shoved it after Bo's visit, after she'd seen the promise of murder in his eyes and known their time might be running out.
She'd packed it alone, a single-person escape plan, because convincing Uncle Martin to abandon the ranch would be like moving a mountain.
Three generations of Bishops had bled for this land.
He'd die where he stood before walking away.
Which meant her only real plan had been to make him choose between his pride and watching her leave alone.
Raven dragged the bag out, her fingers fumbling with the zipper.
Everything was there: clothes, cash, phone charger, spare ammunition for her Glock, and the flash drive with copies of Jesse's documents.
It felt pathetically inadequate compared to what was coming, akin to bringing a knife to a gunfight, or packing a picnic lunch for the apocalypse.
But it was all she had.
She grabbed her Glock from the nightstand drawer, the weight of it solid and real in her trembling hands.
She checked the magazine with automatic precision, her training overriding the fear trying to freeze her in place.
Fifteen rounds. She replaced the magazine and press-checked the weapon.
One in the chamber. Sixteen rounds, with two spare magazines loaded in her go-bag.
Not enough if Bo brought his whole crew, but enough to make them pay for every inch of ground.
She froze at her reflection in the mirror. Her wide, frightened eyes stared back, her dark hair wild from sleep. She looked exactly like what she was: terrified.
Raven's pulse thundered in her ears as she eased into the hallway. Jesse's warning was clear: war wasn't just coming; it was nearly at their door.
The hallway light was already on.
Raven found Uncle Martin in his office, just like she knew she would.
He stood at his desk, methodically loading a spare magazine for his Glock, his movements precise and mechanical.
When he glanced up, she saw something in his expression that made everything inside go cold.
It wasn’t surprise or fear, but grim acceptance. He'd been expecting this, too.
"Uncle Martin, I need to tell you something. Jesse is planning to take his father down, but I think he’s in trouble. I think Bo knows what we were doing, which means he’s heading this way. We have to leave. Right now."
"I know." Uncle Martin set the loaded magazine aside and reached for another. "Jesse called me already."
"Then you know we have to go. We can take the evidence to the media, the FBI, the ATF, whoever will listen. The documents Jesse gave me prove everything—the gun running, the money laundering, all of it. We can bring Bo Hollister down."
"Others have tried, baby girl." Uncle Martin's voice was heavy with something that sounded like defeat.
"Good men. Smart men. Federal agents, prosecutors, with witnesses all willing to testify. Bo Hollister's been doing this for more than twenty years, and every single person who's tried to take him down has either disappeared or ended up dead. You aren’t taking just him down, you know. It’s the cartel’s primary channel running guns into the US.
He's got people everywhere, the sheriff's office, courthouse, probably the federal building in San Antonio, too. "
"But Jesse...”
"Jesse gave you evidence, yes. But evidence doesn't mean anything if you're not alive to present it.
" He finally looked at her fully, and the sorrow in his gaze made her chest constrict.
"That's why I called your Uncle Robert five minutes ago.
There'll be a plane waiting at Gillespie County Airport when you get there. It’s a private jet, no questions asked. It'll take you to him in Virginia."
The words hit her like a physical blow. "What? No. No, we're both going. We can both—”
"I'm not running, Raven Mae." His voice was quiet but final, the same tone he used when an argument was over before it started. "Your Uncle Robert made some kind of deal with Jesse to get you out of here. Jesse's coming to take you to that plane."
"I don’t understand. Uncle Robert called Jesse?" Raven's voice rose with confusion and panic. "How does he even know Jesse?"
"I don’t know how they know each other, but Robert Carmichael always has his way.
And Jesse got away from the house. I don't know the details, but he did.
" Uncle Martin turned back to her, his expression grim.
"He and your Uncle Robert are the only people I trust to keep you alive.
This is my fault, baby girl. I made that deal with Bo Hollister.
I'm the one who thought I could dance with the devil and not get burned. You shouldn't pay for my mistakes."
"Then let's both leave!" Raven crossed the room, grabbing his arm. His skin was warm under her fingers, solid and real. "Please. We can go right now, together. Uncle Robert can protect both of us."
"There's no time." He pulled away gently, moving to the closet where she knew he kept more weapons.
"Bo's already on his way. Maybe ten minutes out, maybe less.
And even if we ran, Hollister would hunt us both down.
But if you're gone, if you're with Robert.
.." He paused, his shoulders sagging. "Robert can protect you.
He's got the connections, the resources. You'll be safe with him."
"I don't even know him!" The panic was rising now, threatening to choke her. "I've never met the guy! He's just some name Mom mentioned a few times, and Dad never thought much of him.”
"That doesn’t matter. He's your blood, and I’m telling you he'll keep you alive, which is more than I can do if you stay here.
" Uncle Martin pulled out his shotgun, the old Remington that had belonged to his grandfather.
The sight of it made everything more real, more terrifying.
"I need you to trust me on this, Raven. Please. "
She wanted to argue more, wanted to scream and rage and refuse. But she could see the finality in his face. He'd already made his decision, already accepted what was coming. He would keep her safe and pay for that with his own life.
"What are you going to do?" The question came out small, childish. She already knew the answer, but some desperate part of her needed to hear him say it.
"I'm going to buy you time." Uncle Martin checked the shotgun's load, his movements automatic from years of practice. "Jesse will get you to that plane. Robert will meet you in Virginia. You’ll be safe there with him."
"I won't go."
"You don't have a choice. Robert has friends in very high places, baby girl.
CIA, FBI, ATF, DOJ, people who can make Bo Hollister's life very uncomfortable.
You have the evidence, but none of it matters if anything happens to you.
" He looked at her then, really looked at her, and she saw the weight of every choice he'd made that led to this moment.
" I need you gone before Bo gets here. I need you safe. That's the only way this works."
"There has to be another way," she whispered, heart breaking that this may be how everything ended. "Please. There has to be something else we can do.”
"There isn't, baby girl. Not now, not one where we both make it out.
" He crossed to her, cupped her face in his calloused hands.
His thumb brushed away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"I can’t protect you here. Your daddy asked me to keep you safe.
Made me promise, right before..." He cleared his throat.
"Well. I've done my best, but this is all I got left to give. A chance for you to live and you’re not going to waste it. "
More tears burned hot behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. If these were going to be their last moments together, she didn't want him to remember her crying. She wanted him to remember her strong, brave, worthy of the sacrifice he was making.
But she didn't feel strong. She felt like she was twelve years old again, standing beside her parents' gravesites, feeling like the only world she ever knew had crumbled into dust.
The sound of an engine approaching behind the house made them both freeze. For one horrible second, Raven thought it was Bo, that they'd run out of time. Then Uncle Martin moved to the window, peered through the curtain.
"Good. That's him. It's Jesse’s truck, not their SUVs. Come on."