Page 68 of Outlaw Ridge: Ryker

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A few hundred yards out, Emma spotted it.

A black sedan, half-concealed by brush at the edge of a narrow trail. Snow dusted its roof and windshield. The back tires had dug shallow ruts into the frozen mud.

“There,” she said, her voice a sharp breath.

Ryker was already moving, weapon drawn, covering her as they approached.

“Charlotte?” Emma called out. “Can you hear us?”

For a terrifying moment, there was only silence.

Then a muffled thump. Another. And the sound of frantic kicking from inside the trunk.

The relief washed through her, and Emma rushed forward as Ryker holstered his weapon and pulled a small tool from his belt, jimmying the lock with practiced speed.

It popped open with a crack.

Charlotte was crammed inside, gagged and tied at the wrists and ankles. Blood streaked her temple from a gash along her hairline, her skin pale and trembling from the cold and trauma.

But she was breathing. She wasalive.

Emma reached in, helping Ryker free her.

Charlotte sagged against them the moment the bindings came loose, weak but conscious, tears leaking from her eyes.

“We’ve got you,” Emma said, her voice rough with emotion. “You’re safe now.”

Ryker pressed his hand gently against Charlotte’s wound to slow the bleeding, already calling in their location for immediate medical help.

Emma stood there for a beat, staring down the empty trail, the cold wind biting at her face.

It was over. Ethan’s reign of terror was finally over.

And this time, he hadn’t won.

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Chapter Eighteen

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Ryker stretched out on his side, one arm draped lazily around Emma’s bare waist, his fingers tracing light, aimless patterns over her skin. The morning sunlight spilled through her bedroom window, warming the rumpled sheets tangled around them.

Three days. Three days since the shootout in the woods. Three days since Ethan’s twisted reign had finally come crashing down.

And now… this.

Peace. Quiet. Emma curled against him, soft and warm and very, very naked.

He brushed his mouth over her temple, breathing her in. She smelled like sleep, like soap, likehis.

“After breakfast,” he murmured, his voice still rough from sleep and other activities, “I’m thinking we hit the shower. Could make it a two-for-one deal.”

Emma’s mouth curved against his chest, her smile slow and lazy. She tilted her face up to his, found his mouth, and kissed him, deep and lingering.

Heat sparked instantly between them, even though they were still catching their breath from round one. Hell, with her, the fire never really went out.

Ryker slid his hand down her back, pulling her closer, already thinking that breakfast could wait. A little longer.