16. Jax
Jax
The black SUV cuts through the dark night with a steady rumble under my hands.
Snow flurries dance in the headlights like tiny white ghosts trying to warn me.
Ava sleeps soundly in the passenger seat beside me.
Her head rests against the window. Her breathing stays soft and even under the oversized jacket I draped over her.
She looks so peaceful after everything. So trusting.
My chest tightens at the sight of her. I keep one hand on the wheel and the other reaches over to rest on her thigh.
She stirs a little but doesn’t wake. Good.
She needs the rest after our morning and the self defense training.
We’re heading to the next safe house. Another remote spot deeper in the mountains.
The call from the team earlier said things were quiet back in Montana but my gut hasn’t settled.
Not completely. I glance in the rearview mirror again.
Headlights. Same pair that have been with us for the last twenty miles.
They slash through the night behind us. Steady.
Too steady. I wonder if my mind’s playing tricks after too many days of high alert and too much time wanting a woman I should not keep.
I ease off the main road onto a narrower backroad.
The tires crunch over packed snow and gravel.
Trees close in tighter on both sides. Their branches reach like skeletal fingers in the moonlight.
The headlights follow. My jaw flexes hard.
I take another turn. Then another. Winding deeper into the wilderness.
The SUV rocks gently over ruts in the road.
Ava murmurs something sleepy but stays out.
Her hand twitches toward mine in her dreams and I squeeze her thigh gently.
Those damn headlights stay glued to us. Not gaining. Not falling back. Just there. My blood runs hotter. This isn’t a coincidence. Not after everything with the cartel. Not after what happened to Riley. I won’t let history repeat itself with Ava.
I push the SUV faster on a straight stretch then brake hard and swing onto an even more deserted road.
Snow banks rise high on either side. No houses.
No lights except ours and the ones behind.
The road narrows until it feels like a tunnel through the pines.
I slow down deliberately. Let them catch up a little. Test them.
Still they follow.
Enough.
I pull the SUV over onto a wide shoulder where the snow is packed hard.
I kill the headlights but leave the running lights on.
Darkness swallows everything except the glow from the car behind us.
Ava shifts in her sleep. I lean over and brush a strand of hair from her face.
"Stay here," I whisper even though she can’t hear me. "I’ve got this."
I wait. Minutes stretch out. The other car stops about thirty yards back. Its headlights stay on. High beams cutting through the falling snow. No one gets out. No movement. My hand rests on the grip of my pistol under the seat. Every muscle in my body coils tight.
Nothing.
I can’t sit here any longer. Not with Ava in the car. Not with the unknown breathing down our necks. I lean over and kiss her temple softly. Her skin feels warm under my lips. "Be right back."
I step out into the cold night air. The wind bites sharp against my face.
Snow crunches under my boots as I walk back toward the other vehicle.
My breath puffs out in visible clouds. The headlights blind me slightly but I keep moving.
Tall. Shoulders squared. Every step radiates the kind of danger that makes smart people back off.
The car is a nondescript sedan. Dark paint dusted with snow. I approach the driver side and rap hard on the window. "Open up."
The window rolls down slowly. A scrawny man sits behind the wheel. Thin face. Nervous eyes behind wire rim glasses. He looks like he belongs in a library cubicle not tailing a US Marshal through the mountains. His hands grip the steering wheel tight enough to show white knuckles.
"Who the hell are you and why are you following us?" I growl. My voice cuts through the night like gravel under tires.
The man swallows hard. "Reporter. Mike Delaney. From the Mountain Gazette. I heard about the Carlos trial. Got a tip that a key witness was being moved through this area. I just wanted a statement. Maybe a photo. I didn’t mean any harm."
Livid does not even cover it. Heat explodes in my chest. My hand fists at my side to keep from reaching through the window and dragging him out by his scrawny neck. A fucking reporter. Trailing us like prey. Putting Ava at risk for a goddamn byline.
"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me," I snarl. I lean down closer. My shadow falls over him. "You followed a protected witness through backroads in a blizzard. Do you have any idea how stupid that is? How dangerous?"
He shrinks back in his seat. "I’m just doing my job. The public has a right to know."
"The public has a right to stay alive," I snap.
My voice stays low but deadly. "You tip off the wrong people with this little stunt and that woman in my car dies. You understand me? Turn around. Go back the way you came. If I see you again I’ll make sure your press pass gets revoked and you end up in a cell for interfering with federal protection. "
The reporter nods quickly. Sweat beads on his forehead despite the cold. "Yes. Understood. Sorry. I’ll … uh, go."
I step back but keep my eyes locked on him as he shifts into reverse.
The sedan backs up slowly then turns around.
Its taillights fade into the snowy darkness.
I stand there a moment longer. Snowflakes melt on my shoulders.
The wind howls through the trees. My heart still pounds with fury and leftover adrenaline.
I walk back to the SUV and climb in. The warmth inside hits me immediately. Ava stirs and blinks up at me sleepily. "Jax? Everything okay?"
I reach over and pull her closer. My hand slides into her hair as I kiss her forehead. "Just some idiot who got lost. Nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Go back to sleep. You’re good. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nuzzles into my side with a soft sigh.
Trusting. Perfect. The feel of her against me chases some of the rage away but not all of it.
A reporter. Out here. It’s too close. Too risky.
I start the SUV again and pull back onto the road.
My eyes scan the mirrors constantly now.
No more headlights. But the unease lingers.
I drive deeper into the night toward the next safe house.
Ava sleeps peacefully beside me. Her hand rests on my thigh like it belongs there.
I cover it with mine. This woman has cracked every wall I built.
She makes me want forever even when the job says temporary.
I won’t let some scrawny reporter or cartel remnants take her from me.
Unless…