Page 51 of Outlaw Ridge: Ryker
He didn’t wait for confirmation, didn’t need it. He was already up, grabbing Emma by the arm as she bolted with him, both of them barreling down the hallway. Ryker slammed his shoulder into the doorframe as they charged outside, Emma on his heels.
The blast hit a second later.
The force of it shoved them both off their feet. The porch groaned under the pressure, windows shattered behind them, the sound swallowing the world in one violent burst of heat and noise.
Ryker hit the ground hard, rolled once, then lifted his head.
Smoke poured from the front door. The house trembled.
And somewhere behind that smoke… Ethan had vanished.
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Chapter Thirteen
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Emma pulled into her garage and shut off the engine. The quiet hum of the motor died, but the roar in her head didn’t.
She didn’t move. Neither did Ryker.
They just sat there in the dim light of the garage, the heater clicking as it cooled, the windshield beginning to fog slightly from the contrast of cold air and shaken breath.
She gripped the steering wheel, not even realizing she was doing it until her fingers started to ache.
She’d been trying to process what happened for hours now. Since the cabin. Since the explosion. Since the shooter in the stairwell.
SinceEthan.
He was alive. And she’d shot him.
The bullet had landed, she’d heard the impact, the grunt, but clearly, she hadn’t killed him. His body wasn’t in the rubble. Only the front of the house had been destroyed, and the working theory was that he’d jumped from the second-story window and slipped into the yard before the blast.
He was always good at escape routes. Always one step ahead.
Thankfully, he hadn’t come to her place. Not yet anyway. Emma had checked the monitors on her app, and all was well. Since the system was one of Strike Force’s, that meant it wasgood. Damn good. But if Ethan got even more desperate than he already was, he might try to override it and get in.
That didn’t help her tangled nerves one bit.
Her chest felt tight. She closed her eyes for half a beat, trying to find the calm. There was none.
When she finally looked over, Ryker was watching her, one elbow propped against the center console, that steady, unreadable look in his eyes. But not cold. Never that.
Their gazes locked, and a corner of his mouth lifted, just enough to make her stomach dip.
“I’m hoping you’ll apologize for something,” he said, voice low, a little rough. “Give me an excuse to kiss you again.”
Despite everything, the corner of her mouth twitched. That was Ryker. Unshakable. And somehow, exactly what she needed.
Emma leaned over and kissed him.
It wasn’t reckless or rushed, but it still carried the weight of everything between them, the near-deaths, the truth they were still uncovering, and the fire that kept sparking no matter how often they tried to douse it.
There was heat, yes, but also somethingsoothingin the press of his mouth against hers. A steadying, anchoring kind of connection she hadn’t even realized she needed.
When she pulled back, her hand lingered lightly on his chest. His breathing was shallow, his eyes locked on hers, and that mask of calm he always wore had cracked just enough for her to see what lay beneath.
He’d needed that kiss too.
