Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Gabbi
Gunfire erupted through the trees, a sharp crack splitting the air, sending a shockwave through my body.
My breath caught, my pulse hammering as shouts echoed around us.
The police were pinned down, gunfire lighting up the darkness in sudden bursts, and in the chaos, I barely registered Bobby’s rough grip on my wrist before I was yanked backward.
"Move!" Bobby’s voice was a harsh growl, his fingers tightening around my arm as he pulled me away from the main road.
I stumbled but kept up, my boots kicking up dirt as we darted toward the tree line. My legs burned, adrenaline and fear mixing in a way that made everything around me blur.
"What about Alvarez?" I panted, glancing back toward the cluster of police vehicles. I could barely make out their forms in the dark, the flashing lights reflecting off the thick trunks of trees. More gunfire rang out.
"They can handle themselves," Bobby snapped. "But we won’t be any good to them dead. Now run."
The sharp edge in his voice cut through the panic in my chest, snapping me into action. I didn’t hesitate after that. I ran.
The mountain terrain was rough and unforgiving.
Roots jutted out from the earth, snatching at my ankles as we weaved between towering pines.
The ground was uneven, slick with damp leaves, making every step dangerous.
The cold night air burned my lungs, but I couldn’t stop.
Not when there were still bullets flying behind us.
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, a low warning in the sky.
I pushed forward, my muscles screaming, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Bobby was just ahead, his broad shoulders cutting through the darkness like a shadow. His movements were fast, controlled, like his body was built for this. I envied how steady he seemed when I felt like I was falling apart.
The ground sloped downward suddenly, and I lost my footing. A sharp yelp tore from my lips as my ankle twisted, and I went down hard, my palms slamming into the cold earth.
"Gabbi!" Bobby’s voice was sharp, urgent.
I clenched my teeth, pushing up onto my hands, but before I could get my balance, he was already there. His hands were firm as he grabbed me, yanking me back onto my feet.
"Keep moving," he growled, not letting go. "We don’t stop until we find cover."
His fingers curled tightly around mine as we pressed forward. My ankle throbbed, but I didn’t complain. There was no time.
The gunfire had faded behind us, but the tension hadn’t. Every rustling branch, every shifting shadow in the trees made my heart race. I didn’t know who was out there, who had been shooting at us, or if they were still hunting us through the forest. All I knew was that we had to keep moving.
The wind picked up, howling through the trees, making the branches above sway violently. The sky had turned into a churning mess of dark clouds, thick and angry, swallowing the moon completely.
"Shit," Bobby muttered under his breath, tilting his head up. "Storm’s coming in fast."
"Great," I huffed, my legs screaming with every step. "Because this night wasn’t bad enough already."
"Just hold on," he said, his voice tight with focus. "We’re almost there."
I had no idea how long we ran, how many minutes blurred into hours. Everything ached. My lungs felt like they were on fire, my clothes were damp from sweat and the chilling mist that had started settling over the forest.
And then—finally—Bobby slowed.
Up ahead, partially hidden behind a thick cluster of trees, stood a small cabin.
It was old, the wood dark and weathered, the roof slightly caved in on one side. There was no light, no sign of life, only an eerie stillness that made my skin prickle. But it was shelter. And right now, that was all we needed.
Bobby let go of my hand and moved forward, his body tense as he checked the door. He pressed his palm against it, testing the wood before giving it a sharp push. It didn’t budge.
"Step back." His voice was rough.
I barely had time to move before he raised his foot and kicked.
The old door gave way with a loud crack, swinging open violently.
The air inside was stale, thick with dust and damp wood. It was small—one room, no furniture, just a fireplace and a pile of rotting logs in the corner.
Bobby motioned me inside, his eyes scanning the space before following me in. He shut the door behind us, securing the latch, then leaned against it, exhaling heavily.
I backed up against the wall, my breath still coming in uneven gasps. My legs were shaking, my entire body buzzing from the adrenaline, the fear, the sheer exhaustion.
Silence stretched between us, only broken by the distant rumble of thunder outside.
Bobby pushed off the door, raking a hand through his damp hair. His shirt was dirty, clinging to his body from sweat and mist, his jaw tight, his chest still rising and falling from the run.
"Are you okay?" His voice was quieter now, but still rough, still full of something heavy.
I let out a breath, nodding. "Yeah."
He took a step toward me, his gaze searching mine.
And suddenly, everything between us shifted.
The tension from the night hadn’t gone away—it had changed. The fear was still there, but underneath it was something else. Something just as sharp, just as dangerous.
Bobby’s gaze dropped to my mouth for half a second, then snapped back up.
I swallowed hard.
Outside, the wind howled against the cabin walls, the storm pressing in around us.
Inside, something else burned between us.
Something just as uncontrollable.
Bobby took another step forward, closing the space between us, his breath warm despite the chill in the air.
My pulse slammed against my ribs.
We weren’t safe.
Not from the storm outside.
And not from this.