Chapter Seventeen
The crack of the gunshot sent Emma and Ryker diving to the frozen ground, their bodies hitting the packed snow hard. Another shot ripped through the trees, splintering bark just above her head.
Emma kept low, heart pounding, scanning the area.
It wasn’t Ethan who had fired.
She spotted him still crouched behind his tree, rifle steady, unmoving. No, the shot had come from behind the hostages.
Janette.
The woman was no longer on her knees. Her hands hadn’t been tied at all. The gag around her mouth hung loose now around her neck.
Emma caught a glimpse of her scurrying behind one of the trees, a gun clutched tightly in her hand.
Damn it.
Janette hadn’t just been bait. She was part of the trap.
Another shot cracked through the cold air, kicking up snow a few inches from where Emma crouched. Janette ducked back behind her tree before Emma or Ryker could even think about returning fire.
Emma ground her teeth together, fingers tightening around her weapon.
She had the angle to shoot back, but her line of fire would put bullets dangerously close to the road. She couldn’t risk it. Not with civilians who could drive past if fate was feeling cruel.
Across the small clearing, Dr. Colvin scrambled sideways, desperate to reach cover. Her hands were tied. The gag was still in place. She wasn’t part of the setup. She was a pawn.
Emma’s breath caught as another shot rang out, this time from Ethan’s position. The bullet slammed into the tree inches from Dr. Colvin’s head. Missed, but barely.
“Hell,” Ryker muttered under his breath beside her.
Emma was already shifting, searching for a better angle, when Ryker’s phone buzzed. He checked it quickly, shielding the screen with his hand.
“It’s Hayes,” he whispered. “They heard the shots. They’re moving closer on foot.”
Emma’s pulse jumped. Good. They needed the help. But it also meant more bodies moving through a kill zone, one that Ethan and Janette had no doubt prepared for.
She flicked her gaze toward Ryker, reading the same urgency in his eyes. They needed to end this. Now. Before backup walked into the crossfire. Before Ethan made good on his promise to spill more blood.
Ryker shifted slightly behind the thick tree trunk, his voice low but carrying enough to reach Janette.
“Janette,” Ryker called out. “You need to end this. Ethan’s hurt. He needs medical attention. You know that.”
For a moment, there was only the cold whisper of the wind through the trees. Then a hoarse, broken sob cut through the stillness.
Emma tightened her grip on her weapon, heart hammering.
From Ethan’s position came a snarl, sharp and filled with rage. “She already lost that argument,” Ethan barked. “I’m dying. And before I take my final breath, I’m tying up loose ends.”
Loose ends. Meaning them.
Emma’s pulse pounded against her ears. “You want Ryker and me dead, Ethan,” she called back, voice steady. “But killing us won’t fix you.”
Another ragged sound from Janette, closer to a wail than a sob. “It’s not too late,” she cried, her voice shaking. “If we get you to the hospital, you can still be okay.”
“No!” Ethan’s roar ripped through the trees. “You said you love me. If that’s true, you’ll go through with the plan.”
Emma caught movement from the corner of her eye, Janette raising the gun again, her hands trembling so badly the weapon wobbled.
“I do love you,” Janette sobbed, the words slurred by her tears.
Janette squeezed the trigger. The shot went wild, kicking up a plume of snow ten feet from where they crouched.
Emma exchanged a glance with Ryker. Janette was cracking. Breaking apart under the weight of Ethan’s madness. And that might just be the opening they needed.
Ryker shifted closer, his breath misting the frozen air near her ear. “I’m going to circle behind her,” he whispered. “Try to disarm her.”
Emma turned her head, their eyes locking. She didn’t have to say Be careful. It was written across her face, clear enough that Ryker’s mouth curved into the barest hint of a grim smile.
The tight, aching worry coiled deeper in her chest. Before last night, before they’d crossed that line between partners and something more, she’d been able to keep her fear for him buried under professionalism. But now… now it was raw and clawing at her insides.
He brushed her gloved hand lightly with his fingers, quick, barely a touch, and then he was gone, slipping low through the snow-dusted trees.
Emma swallowed hard and forced herself to focus.
Focus on Ethan. Focus on Janette.
She couldn’t let her mind follow Ryker through the trees, couldn’t let herself imagine all the ways this could go wrong. Not when the man they’d once trusted was waiting to kill them both.
Emma shifted her weight slightly, careful not to make a sound louder than the whisper of the breeze. Somewhere in the trees, Ryker was moving, silent, calculated, and she had to buy him every second she could.
She drew a breath and called out, loud enough to carry across the clearing. “Janette. You can still end this. For Ethan’s sake.”
There was a beat of silence, a hesitation she could feel in the air.
But it wasn’t Janette who answered.
Ethan’s voice cut through the cold, ragged and filled with venom. “You ruined my life, Emma.”
Emma’s heart pounded against her ribs, but she kept her voice even. “You ruined your own life, Ethan. You hurt the people who cared about you. You even hurt the woman you’ve been staying with.”
A sharp, barking laugh echoed from behind his tree. “Veronica was collateral damage,” he snarled. “She saw my face on the fuckin’ news. I didn’t have a choice.”
Emma gritted her teeth, anger biting harder than the cold. “And Charlotte?” she demanded. “What about her?”
“She came after me,” Ethan snapped. “Tried to turn me in. Tried to save me.” His voice twisted on the last word. “I asked her for help. She chose you instead. Just like everyone else.”
The silence that followed was thick and poisonous.
“She’s in the trunk of my car,” Ethan added, vicious satisfaction threading every syllable.
Her stomach dropped, nausea clawing at her throat. “Is she alive?” Emma shouted.
“It doesn’t matter!” Ethan roared. “None of it matters anymore.”
Emma tensed, watching as movement flickered from the corner of her eye, Janette shifting behind her cover.
“Do it, Janette,” Ethan screamed. “Now. You promised you would.”
Emma braced herself, pulse hammering, the world narrowing to the shaky barrel of Janette’s gun starting to lift.
Seconds stretched razor-thin.
Emma edged slightly around the tree, eyes darting between Janette and Ethan, heart thundering so loudly she could barely hear the wind.
Movement.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Ryker. He was moving low and fast, closing the gap toward Janette.
Another flicker of movement in the distance. Hayes and Jesse, working their way in from the opposite side, careful and quick through the trees.
But Ethan saw them too.
His body jerked with effort as he shifted his rifle, dragging it away from the hostages and toward the deputies.
Emma’s heart skipped a couple of beats. She couldn’t let Ethan fire. Couldn’t just stand there and watch him gun them down.
She levered herself up from her crouch, stepped out from the tree cover, and shouted, “Ethan?”
His head snapped toward her, eyes wild and unfocused with rage and pain. He tried to swing the rifle back toward her, but the weapon was too heavy, the movement too slow. He was weakened, bleeding, struggling to even keep the barrel steady.
Emma raised her weapon, aimed, not for the kill, but for the hand still clinging to the rifle, and she fired.
The crack of the shot ripped through the frozen woods. Ethan howled, the bullet slamming into his hand. His fingers spasmed open, the rifle slipping from his grip and dropping to the snow with a heavy thud.
Emma took a breath, steadying herself, gun still trained on him as he staggered back against the tree, clutching his bleeding hand.
Janette howled, a raw, broken sound that split the air, and then she fired at Emma, wild, reckless shots that sent bark flying from the trees.
Emma barely had time to react before Ryker reached her.
He launched himself at Janette, tackling her hard to the ground. They hit with a heavy thud, a scramble of limbs and snow. Janette fought like a wildcat, her hands clawing for the gun, her finger still jerking the trigger.
A shot went off, sharp and deafening.
Emma’s heart stopped. Fear knifed through her so fast she almost stumbled.
“Ryker!” she shouted, racing toward him.
He was crouched over Janette, grappling for control of the weapon. Blood stained the snow under them, dark and spreading fast.
Emma skidded to a stop beside them, her breath locking in her chest. For a split second, all she could see was the red, too much red, and the horrible thought that she was too late.
Then Ryker turned his head toward her, eyes steady, breathing hard, but alive. The blood wasn’t his. Janette lay pinned beneath him, her arm twisted awkwardly, a gunshot wound bleeding freely.
Jesse and Hayes barreled through the trees, weapons drawn. Jesse dropped to help restrain Janette while Hayes moved to secure Ethan, who was sagging against the tree, clutching his ruined hand and glaring at all of them with pure, blistering hate.
“We need an ambulance,” Jesse said into his radio, already cuffing Janette with quick, efficient movements. “I’ll check on Dr. Colvin,” he added to the others.
Ryker fired a sharp glance around the woods, his chest heaving. “Did you see a car on any of the trails?” he asked.
Both Jesse and Hayes shook their heads.
“No sign of one,” Hayes replied.
Ryker’s jaw locked.
“He said Charlotte’s in the trunk,” Emma said, her voice tight. “We have to find her.”
Without waiting for backup, she and Ryker took off into the trees, the snow crunching under their boots, every second hammering in their ears.
Charlotte’s life depended on it.
Emma’s lungs burned as she and Ryker sprinted through the trees, scanning every trail, every break in the underbrush. She didn’t let herself slow down, didn’t let herself think about how close they’d come to losing. To losing Charlotte. To letting Ethan win.
Not today.
They kept their eyes low as well as forward, both of them mindful of the possibility that Ethan or Janette had planted explosives as a final trap.
A few hundred yards out, Emma spotted it.
A black sedan, half-concealed by brush at the edge of a narrow trail. Snow dusted its roof and windshield. The back tires had dug shallow ruts into the frozen mud.
“There,” she said, her voice a sharp breath.
Ryker was already moving, weapon drawn, covering her as they approached.
“Charlotte?” Emma called out. “Can you hear us?”
For a terrifying moment, there was only silence.
Then a muffled thump. Another. And the sound of frantic kicking from inside the trunk.
The relief washed through her, and Emma rushed forward as Ryker holstered his weapon and pulled a small tool from his belt, jimmying the lock with practiced speed.
It popped open with a crack.
Charlotte was crammed inside, gagged and tied at the wrists and ankles. Blood streaked her temple from a gash along her hairline, her skin pale and trembling from the cold and trauma.
But she was breathing. She was alive.
Emma reached in, helping Ryker free her.
Charlotte sagged against them the moment the bindings came loose, weak but conscious, tears leaking from her eyes.
“We’ve got you,” Emma said, her voice rough with emotion. “You’re safe now.”
Ryker pressed his hand gently against Charlotte’s wound to slow the bleeding, already calling in their location for immediate medical help.
Emma stood there for a beat, staring down the empty trail, the cold wind biting at her face.
It was over. Ethan’s reign of terror was finally over.
And this time, he hadn’t won.
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