Page 51 of Outlaw Ridge: Jesse

Page List

Font Size:

Jesse whipped up his gun, taking aim, and he squeezed the trigger, the sharp recoil of his gun jolting through his arm. The shot cracked through the night, and the figure ducked, disappearing behind the tree trunk. Jesse didn’t wait. Neither did Lauren. She aimed, and he adjusted his gun ready to fire again before the shooter could regroup.

That was the plan anyway.

But neither of them got off a shot when the truck exploded behind them.

The deafening roar of the blast shook the ground beneath him. The shockwave slammed into Jesse like a fist, throwing him forward as heat surged over his back. Debris rained down—shards of metal, glass, burning fragments of what had been his truck.

Jesse dragged Lauren beneath him, trying to protect her as best he could. Which wasn’t fuck-all enough. His ears were ringing, his face pressed against the dirt. His head spun, disoriented by the blast, but he shook it off as fast as he could.

Because this was their chance to survive. Their chance to catch the sonofabitch doing this to them.

Jesse’s heart pounded in his chest, the roar of the truck’s explosion still echoing in his ears. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burning fuel. Flaming debris kept raining down around them, casting brief, flickering shadows across the ground.

But Jesse didn’t flinch. This was their chance. Their chance to survive.

Their chance to catch the son of a bitch who was trying to kill them.

He met Lauren’s eyes—and they were filled with the same moment of reckoning burning through him. No words were needed. They both knew.

It was a risk. Anything they did at this point was. But Jesse gripped his gun tighter, nodded once, and they moved.

Pushing off the ground, they sprinted toward the trees, weaving through the smoke and falling embers. The distraction of the burning wreckage was on their side, masking their approach. Dirt kicked up under their boots as they closed the distance.

Gunshots came at them again, wild and desperate. Bullets ripped past, tearing into the dirt and splintering tree trunks, but Jesse didn’t slow. He fired back, quick bursts aimed toward the flashes of muzzle fire in the trees.

Lauren was right beside him, her movements fluid, controlled, returning fire with precision. They reached the tree line, diving behind cover just as another round slammed into the ground where they’d been seconds before.

Jesse’s breath came hard and fast, but his focus was razor-sharp. He could hear footsteps now—someone retreating, trying to fall back.

Not this time.

Jesse signaled to Lauren, and without hesitation, they pushed forward, closing in on their target.

Because this wasn’t just about survival anymore.

This was the hunt. And Jesse wanted to make damn sure it was a hunt that Lauren and he won.

Chapter Twenty

----- ? ----

Lauren sprinted alongside Jesse, her lungs burning as they rushed into the dense line of trees. The crackle of flames behind them faded under the pounding of her heart and the distant wail of police sirens.

Backup.

Too far away to save them, too late to stop this.

Through the smoke-hazed darkness, she caught a glimpse of movement—the shooter. Not racing toward Jesse and her but rather about to run away.

Lauren didn’t hesitate. She raised her gun, and while still running, she fired, aiming high. A warning shot since she didn’t want to shoot the person in the back.

The shot rang out, sharp and deafening. As Lauren had planned, the bullet missed, but the noise was apparently loud enough to send the shooter diving behind cover of the nearest tree, a scraggly cedar. A heartbeat later, gunfire exploded back in their direction, the shots wild but dangerously close.

“Down!” Jesse shouted.

They dove behind the thick trunk of an old oak, bark splintering as bullets ripped into it. Lauren’s back slammed against the rough surface, every muscle in her body primed and adrenaline surging through her veins like wildfire.

Jesse leaned out just enough to return fire, his jaw clenched, eyes focused. Lauren did the same, firing quick, controlled bursts toward the shooter’s position.