Chapter 11
“I’m going to run your lunch down to you,” Lauren said. “I’ll leave the basket on the table.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Amber replied into her cell phone. She, Hunter and Ghost were returning from the woods. They hadn’t seen any signs to indicate the two groups had returned to the area.
“I’ll be fine. In and out in ten minutes. Not going to let some bullies scare me away from the business I poured my everything into.”
“Lauren a Mexican drug cartel and a motorcycle gang aren’t exactly bullies.”
“They could be bluffing. For all we know, they could have moved their operation elsewhere by now. They have to know if you and Hunter know, you could have gone to the cops. Why would they risk it? Anyway, lunch will be on the table.”
Amber stared down at the screen and shook her head, panic rising in her chest. Hunter caught the shift in her demeanor, his gaze sharp as flint. “What is it?”
“Lauren is headed to The Lookout,” Amber forced out, her voice laced with dread.
“Damn it,” he swore quietly. “We need to go, now.”
Amber tensed; every muscle coiled spring ready to snap into action. Thoughts of strategy gave way to raw, visceral fear for her cousin. Her heart sank further with each second they lost, sinking like stones in the pit of her stomach. The three moved quickly, urgency thrumming between them.
And then, as the tree line began to thin, chaos erupted into earshot. Shouting voices clashed with the crack of bullets, a cacophony of terror that sent a shiver coursing down Amber”s spine.
“Damn it,” Hunter growled. “Ten bucks says they think she’s you.”
“Lauren,” Amber whispered, the name fueling her resolve. She couldn”t—wouldn”t—let her cousin face this nightmare alone.
They emerged from the forest, the clearing ahead torn apart by violence and fear. Gunfire punctured the air, sharp and deadly, a lethal reminder of the threat lurking within the shattered serenity of The Lookout.
“Move! To the side!” Hunter commanded, pushing Amber toward the relative cover of a nearby boulder. His training took over, eyes scanning for threats, hands ready at his weapon. “I see her,” Hunter said. “There are two hostiles, they are spraying into the tents. Probably assume Ghost and I are in there.”
“Spray and pray isn’t going to do them any favors. Look at all the wasted ammo,” Ghost observed.
The Lookout unfolded before Amber like a scene from her nightmarish documentaries—except this time, she wasn”t observing and reporting on someone else’s story. This time, it was her family in the midst of the chaos. Shattered glass crunched underfoot, sparkling shards catching the light with a cruel beauty. The large heavy oak table was overturned. She scanned the chaos, searching for Lauren”s blonde hair, the same shade as her own. One foot after the other, Amber allowed instinct to guide her, moving fluidly despite the adrenaline-fueled tremors that threatened her composure.
Amber”s gaze locked onto the trembling form of Lauren, crouched low behind a splintered picnic table that once hosted laughter and light-hearted picnics. Now, it served as a scant shield against the hailstorm of bullets and violence. The fear on her cousin”s face was a stark contrast to the vibrant smile she normally wore. With each erratic heartbeat drumming in her ears, Amber sprang into action, darting toward Lauren. She knew Ghost and Hunter had her back.
“Lauren!” she called out, her voice cutting through the ear-splitting cacophony of gunfire.
“Amber! I should have listened to you. How could I be so damn stupid?” Lauren”s voice cracked, relief momentarily flickering across her features as Amber slid next to her, pulling her into an embrace that was both a sanctuary and a battle cry. The scent of Lauren”s familiar shampoo briefly pierced the smoky air, grounding Amber amidst the bedlam.
“Stay close to me,” Amber whispered fiercely, her words barely audible over the chaos.
With Lauren secure in her grip, Amber”s mind raced. She knew every inch of this ranch—the land where they spent their summers, where they learned to ride bikes and horses, where they shared their secrets. Each memory etched a map in her mind. Her protective instincts surged like a tidal wave as she eyed the hidden exit they used as kids during their fanciful adventures—a narrow path veiled by thick brush, unnoticed by most.
“This way. Quick and quiet,” she instructed, her tone leaving no room for hesitation. She glanced quickly back to see Ghost and Hunter engaged with the two men. Of course, those two stood no chance against the former SEALs.
Every second mattered, every decision could mean the difference between life and death. Amber”s training kicked in, her body reacting with militant precision while her heart screamed in anguish for the innocence lost.
“Stay down!” Amber ordered as a bullet whizzed too close, embedding itself into the wood where moments before Lauren”s head had been. Lauren”s response was a nod. The hidden exit loomed ahead. Amber tightened her hold on Lauren, willing her strength into her cousin as they neared the threshold between hell and haven.
“Ready?” Amber asked, peering into Lauren”s eyes, offering her not just a question, but a promise—they were getting out of this alive.
“Ready,” Lauren affirmed, gripping Amber”s hand tightly.
“Run, now!” Amber commanded and the girls took off sprinting down the same path they’d explored as children.
“We’re almost there,” Amber breathed out, though she could feel the tremor of fear vibrating through Lauren’s grip.
Lauren stumbled over a tree root, her breath hitching in a half-sob, half-gasp. “I can’t run any?—”
“You can!” Amber insisted, her voice fierce. “We”re Rosses, remember? We don”t break.” She hoisted Lauren up and pointed forward. The ATVs Amber, Hunter and Ghost parked on the side of a service road before their hike, weren’t far now.
As they approached the threshold of safety, a shadow loomed in front of them— a large man wearing a black motorcycle cut, his silhouette menacing against the backdrop. His weapon, pointed at them, his stance blocking the path.
“Down!” Amber shouted, yanking Lauren to the side as instinct honed from countless dangerous encounters surged within her.
“Stay near me,” Amber whispered. She assessed the man before them, his eyes cold and determined. But behind the merciless gaze, she recognized the flicker of humanity, the split-second of doubt that could mean their salvation or demise.
Amber”s muscles coiled, a sprinter on invisible blocks. She didn”t need her fluency in languages here; her body spoke the universal dialect of survival. The man’s finger caressed the trigger.
“Lauren, run now!”
Without checking to see if her cousin obeyed her command, Amber exploded into motion, shoulder first. The impact with the man sent a shockwave through her body, but she barely registered the pain. All that mattered was the precious window of escape she”d created.
The man staggered, his gun arm swinging wide as he fought for balance. His eyes blinked in surprise. Amber had seen that look before in her crime documentaries—the realization that prey could bite back.
“Go, go, go!” It was all Amber could gasp out as she got back to her feet and took off running behind her cousin. They darted past the off-balance assailant.
“Almost there,” she panted, more to assure herself than Lauren. Their hands gripped tightly, an anchor amidst the chaos.
As they neared the service road, the clarity of danger sharpened Amber”s senses. Every sound was amplified—the crunch of gravel underfoot, the labored breaths they drew, the distant shouts of the men battling with Hunter and Ghost.
“Left, there”s a path!” Amber directed.
The fallen man regained his footing behind them, rage fueling his shouts. The ATVs were up ahead. They would outrun him as soon as they were on the vehicles.