Page 50 of Outlaw Ridge: Jesse
But Jesse wasn’t going to let that happen.
Jesse gave the voice command on his phone to text for backup. No way was anyone going to arrive in time though, andeven if they did, there was little chance of stopping what had already been put into motion.
Definitely not a comforting thought but one that riled him to the core. Some SOB was playing god with their lives.
His fingers tightened around the butt of his gun as the heat from the flames bled through the windshield, a suffocating wall of fire just feet in front of them. The crackling grew louder, more violent, licking at the dry grass and gravel, and Jesse knew it was only a matter of time before the truck’s gas tank went up.
“We’ve got to get out,” he muttered, his jaw clenched. “There’s no ditch like at Reardon’s place, but we can’t stay put.”
Lauren nodded, her face tense but focused, her gun gripped tightly in her hands.
Jesse’s eyes flicked to the left, to the small cluster of live oak trees about twenty yards away, their shadows cutting through the moonlight. It wasn’t much cover, but it was all they had.
“We’ll make for those trees,” he said quickly, pointing at them. “But whoever set this fire is probably waiting for us to do exactly that. Could be aiming for us right now.”
His gut twisted, a mix of adrenaline and pure, raw frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to protect Lauren, keep her out of shitstorms like this. And now they were sitting ducks, boxed in with flames on one side, and God knows who was waiting in the dark.
Damn it.
Jesse glanced at Lauren again, the flickering firelight reflecting off her face. She was steady, determined. She wasn’t going to back down—and neither was he.
“On my signal,” he said. “Stay low. Move fast.”
Lauren gave a sharp nod, her jaw tight.
Jesse took one last breath, his heart pounding like mad in his chest. Then he threw the door open on the driver’s side of the truck, the blast of heat hitting him like a punch.
“Go!” he shouted, his boots landing on the ground with a hard thud.
He took hold of Lauren to help her crawl over the seat toward him, and the moment she was out of the truck, he got them moving. They sprinted for the trees.
Jesse expected the gunfire before he even heard it.
And he heard it all right.
Dragging Lauren down with him, Jesse hit the ground hard, gravel digging into his palms as gunfire erupted, blasting through the night air. Bullets tore past them, too close. Lauren was right beside him, thankfully keeping her body low, but that might not be enough to stay alive.
So, he had to think. Had to do something to turn the tables on this asshole.
The shots were coming from ahead, somewhere in the trees. With the fire raging behind them, the heat clawing at their backs, they were trapped—pinned between the flames and an unseen shooter.
“Move!” Jesse barked, his voice somehow managing to cut through the gunfire.
Lauren levered herself up when he did, and they scrambled toward a cluster of rocks, barely enough cover to shield them both. Jesse threw himself behind the largest one, pulling Lauren down with him just as another bullet slammed into the dirt where she’d been a second before.
Too damn close.
The rocks offered little protection—just jagged edges and not nearly enough bulk to stop a well-placed shot. Bullets pinged off them, others tearing into the ground around them. Jesse’s heart pounded, not from fear for himself but for Lauren.
He risked a glance over the edge of the rocks, trying to catch a glimpse of their attacker. A muzzle flash flared from the treeline—quick, bright, and gone just as fast. The shooter was smart, staying low, using the darkness and their vulnerable position.
Jesse cursed under his breath, the frustration burning hotter than the fire behind them. He should have seen this coming. He should have protected her better. But then it occurred to him that Lauren was probably thinking the same thing about him.
Lauren’s breathing was steady, her gun clutched tight as she pressed her back against the rock. Despite the danger, her eyes were focused—determined. She wasn’t panicking.
Jesse shifted just enough, peering from around the side of the rock to catch a quick glimpse of something. There—a flicker of movement. A figure crouched low between two trees, the faint glint of a rifle barrel reflecting the fire’s glow.
Got you.
