Page 99 of Fallen Heir
And still—my eyes stayed locked on her.
My gun never wavered from him.
I could see her chest rising and falling, see the children clinging behind the van, see the terror laced inside her strength—but she never looked away from the fight.
And then I saw it. His mouth moved. I couldn’t hear it—but I knew exactly what he said. He gave the order.
Bring me the car.
My foot slammed the gas pedal to the floor, and the engine roared beneath me. Every muscle in my body locked with tension as the distance between us closed.
I prayed she was buckled in, prayed she had enough strength left to brace herself, prayed that when this was over, she would still be breathing.
The SUV carrying her was barreling toward the access road, Bruce desperate to escape before the last of his men hit the ground. But he wasn’t running from a crew or a mission. He was running from me. And I wasn’t going to let him leave with her.
The world narrowed to nothing but the vehicle in front of me, every second dragging like a taut wire about to snap. The numbers in my head ticked down—fifty yards, thirty, ten—and I didn’t hesitate. I locked my hands on the wheel, jaw clenched, lungs burning as the gap disappeared.
The impact was brutal.
Metal screamed. Glass exploded. The frame of their SUV twisted on contact, and for a brief, suspended moment, I watched it lift from the ground, weightless. Then it flipped, once, then twice, before slamming back into the dirt, rolling until it finally came to a stop in a mangled heap of metal and smoke.
The world went still, but my pulse didn’t.
Pain radiated through my chest and shoulders where the seatbelt had caught me, but I didn’t care. The second the truck jolted to a stop, I ripped the door open, forcing my legs to carry me forward even as my body screamed in protest. Every breath burned, every step sent lightning bolts up my spine, but none of it mattered. All I could see was her.
“Savannah!” I shouted, my voice cracking under the weight of panic.
I staggered toward the wreckage, stumbling over shattered glass and twisted steel. Smoke poured into the air, thick and choking, the sharp tang of gasoline mixing with the stench of burned rubber and blood. My boots slipped in the dirt, but I didn’t slow. Debris scraped against my arms and hands as I shoved my way through the crushed frame.
And then I saw her.
She was pinned inside, twisted awkwardly between the mangled seats, blood streaking her face and pooling beneath her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and heavy, but they found mine. Even through the pain, she was fighting to stay with me.
Relief hit like a flood, but it was short-lived. She was alive—but barely. And we weren’t out yet.
I started toward her, desperate to find a way into the wreckage, to pull her free. My hands clawed at the twisted metal, fingers raw and burning, but the frame was crushed too tight. I needed tools. Leverage. Anything.
And then I heard it—the voice that turned my blood cold.
“You sure about that?”
Bruce.
His voice cut through the smoke like a knife, steady, venomous. I didn’t need to turn to know he was behind me. The bastard had somehow pulled himself from the wreckage, gun still in hand, like the devil crawling back from hell for one last strike.
I stood slowly, shoulders square, body between him and Savannah. My weapon was gone, lost somewhere in the collision. I was unarmed, but I didn’t back down.
“Let’s take a little walk,” Bruce said, voice low as he gestured with the gun. “Away from the open. Seems you’ve brought more company than I expected.”
I moved where he directed. My mind was already racing, calculating distances, options, threats. But there was no margin for error now. Not with Savannah barely conscious behind me. Not with his finger twitching on the trigger.
He circled me like a predator sizing up wounded prey, breathing heavy, sweat streaking his face. His suit was torn, his eyes wild, but the arrogance still burned in him like a dying flame refusing to go out.
“This was mine,” he spat. “All of it. The empire. The money. The power. I built it.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You stole it. Turned it into something it was never supposed to be.”
His lip curled, but I didn’t give him time to answer. My eyes flicked briefly to the side, scanning the shadows. I knew Ben was out there. My team was moving. Nic was feeding them every angle. But no one could take the shot. Not yet. Not with me in the crosshairs.
