Page 40 of Cold Foot Revenge
That was her only chance now.
Chapter Ten
“Yeah, well you could’ve done better at saying goodbye,” Andrew said loud enough to be heard over the music. “This place kind of sucks without the Hoffman brothers.”
Dylan snorted. “You probably get in less trouble now.”
“Only because I have like forty kids and a wife.”
“Dude, you have two kids.”
“Twins. It feels like forty kids.”
Dylan looked back at the door to Coop’s. He used to hang here with his buddies all the time when he’d lived here. The tourists mostly stayed away from this street, but that wasn’t why he’d chosen it. Coop’s was just a couple blocks away from the Rabbit Hole, and Dylan felt better if he was close to Roxy. He’d texted her to come meet them afterward, but so far, she hadn’t responded. She should be getting off work soon. The bar would be doing last call any minute now.
There was some kind of commotion outside, and when he turned around there was a woman running down the sidewalk right past Coop’s.
Andrew stood at the same time as Dylan, and a few of the others around them stood too and began drifting to the window as two more people ran past Coop’s. They were screaming.
Behind them, the bartender was making a call to 911 about some kind of commotion on Gentry Street.
The chaos came from the direction of the Rabbit Hole. What the hell? Dylan shoved the door open and stepped outside just as another trio of people came sprinting by. “What’s going on?” he asked one of the guys.
“Shifters. They Changed man. Get inside.”
They ran into Coop’s behind him.
“What is it?” Andrew asked from behind him.
Dylan drew his weapon and told him, “Get back inside. Shifters are out and Changed.”
“Dude you can’t go out there alone. Come back inside with me.”
But he didn’t understand. Andrew had his wife and kids at home safe. Dylan’s lady was in this Crew and something felt really wrong.
“I’ll be right back, just go inside,” he called as he picked up to a jog, his finger laying across the gun, not on the trigger yet. “Move,” he said, to a crowd that was running his way. He was going against the grain, and as soon as he made his way through them, he skidded to a stop. Across the street, a flash of gray fur bolted down the sidewalk.
It was a coyote.
Roxy.
“Roxy!” he yelled, but his voice was completely drowned out by a ground-shaking roar, which dragged his attention to the road.
A grizzly bear was charging this way, and behind it there were at least three more.
“Fuck!” he gritted out, bolting for his truck. He’d parked right on the street so it was just a couple of cars up. He holstered his gun and slid behind the wheel and checked the side-view mirror once before he pulled out in front of the charging bear.
Now, he loved his truck. He did. He loved it and didn’t want damage to it, but he needed to pull that grizzly off the bloodlust, and the way to do that right now was to hit him with a damn car. He laid on his horn, hoping to wake the thing up, but the bear slammed into the side of him and made his way around the truck immediately.
Bad news.
Roxy was in it.
Muttering a curse, he pressed the gas to the floor and zoomed around the animal, in the completely wrong lane, swerved around a car going the other way and then jerked the wheel until he was back in the correct lane and in front of the grizzly. God, the thing was fast. Dylan was going fifty miles an hour, and the bears were catching up.
Frantically, he searched the sidewalk, but the parked cars were blocking a lot of the view. He laid on the horn and rolled down the passenger’s side window.
“Roxy!” he yelled. If she were close, she would hear it.
