Page 46 of Emmy's Ride

I didn’t wait for a response before slipping inside, closing the door behind me.

My heart was still pounding. Not because of what I’d seen on Noah’s face, but because of the look in Austin’s eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of sessions and paperwork. I tried to focus, tried to push aside the gnawing feeling in my gut, but it wasn’t easy. Every time I stepped into the waiting room and caught a glimpse of Austin—still seated in the same chair, still watching—I felt that tension coil tighter.

I knew him, and I knew damn well he wasn’t going to let this go.

At exactly five o’clock, I stepped out of my office, rubbing my temples. The long day had drained me, and all I wanted was to go home, take a hot bath, and not think for a few hours.

Austin was already on his feet. “Ready to go?”

I sighed. “So ready.”

I was used to handling tough cases, but Noah’s situation stuck with me. It wasn’t just the fresh bruises on his face—it was the way his shoulders hunched as if expecting another blow atany second, the way his eyes darted to the door as if someone might barge in and drag him out at any moment.

If Noah would give me something that would stick with CPS, I could have him out of that house. Three times I’ve filed a report, and all three times Noah’s dad managed to convince the case worker that he’d been getting into fights with neighborhood kids.

And then there was Austin.

I glanced at him as we stepped out of the building together. He was in full protector mode, his broad shoulders tense, eyes scanning the surroundings like a man who expected trouble. Maybe he did.

I let out a breath, pushing my hair back as I dug for my keys in my purse. “I can drive, Austin.”

“Not happening,” he replied.

I shook my head, but before I could respond, something—someone—caught my attention in the distance. A shadowy figure near the edge of the parking lot, just beyond the dim glow of the streetlights. As he raised his hand, I could see he held something black.

A muffledpingsplit the air.

Before I could even process the sound, Austin was on me. One second, I was standing beside my car. The next, I was crushed beneath him, his weight forcing the oxygen from my lungs as the glass of my car window exploded above us. Right where I had been standing.

I gasped, heart slamming against my ribs. Austin’s body was tense over mine, shielding me completely. His breath stuttered against my ear, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.

“Stay down,” he ground out. “Somebody is firing at us.”

My pulse was a wild thing.What?“Austin?—”

Anotherping, this time missing us by inches, striking the pavement nearby.

Austin moved fast. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up, shielding me with his body as he hauled me toward the car door.

More shots.

My mind spun as I clung to him. His grip was iron, unyielding as he shoved me into the car, his movements controlled, but furious.

I scrambled over the console, into the passenger seat as Austin climbed in behind me in one smooth motion. “Get down,” he barked as he started the car and put it into drive.

I bent at the waist as I clicked the seatbelt into place while he gunned it out of the parking lot, throwing me back in the seat. With a hand to the back of my head, Austin pushed me down again as we sped away from the chaos. My heart still pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else.

I barely registered the drive or the heated phone call to Tank. Barely processed anything until we pulled into the compound, engines roaring as Austin’s men surged toward us.

Austin killed the engine and was out of the car and around to my side in seconds. He ripped my door open, his face a storm of self-controlled rage. Tank and several more guys rushed out the clubhouse door.

“Find out who the fuck shot at us,” Austin ordered, voice like thunder. “I want every single lead, every name, every goddamn rumor. Get me camera footage of the parking lot.”

His men snapped to attention, Tank already issuing commands into his phone. The compound was suddenly alive with motion, but my world had narrowed to the man standing in front of me.

Austin turned, eyes locking on to mine. They were dark, wild, filled with something murderous. He wasn’t just angry—he was enraged. And underneath all that fury was an undercurrent of fear.

---