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Devil's Game (Reapers MC #3) Page 91
Author: Joanna Wylde

Hunter stirred again.

“Em?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I’m fine, babe,” I said, looking down at him. His eyes were open now, and I tried to see his pupils. Were they the same size? That’s when I realized the radio was still playing . . . I reached up and turned on the light, and we both flinched from the sudden brightness.

“Look at me,” I said. His head turned, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Pupils were fine, and he seemed to be getting more alert every second. Must’ve hit just enough to knock him out, but hopefully nothing serious.

“We had an accident,” I explained, my voice shaking. “I don’t know what happened—I think we lost a couple tires, maybe? Then we hit ice.”

“Someone shot out the tires,” Hunter said. He started squirming in his seat, trying to move his arms, but the stump and branches held him completely trapped. “One tire blowing, I can see. But two? That’s someone who knows their shit. We need to assume they’re outside, Em. Have to get ready for them. Start by turning off the light. No reason to give them an easier target than we have to.”

I froze, eyes wide. I hadn’t quite processed the whole shooting thing, but of course this wasn’t an accident. Not good. Not good at all.

“This really sucks,” I whispered, then realized how ridiculously inadequate that was, given the situation. Shit. I turned off the light and started fumbling in the darkness for my purse. It fell open and I nearly lost the phone. I caught it right before it fell, but unfortunately I dropped the purse in the process.

Hunter watched the whole time, frustration written all over his face.

“Call your dad. The club can get here faster than anyone else, and they’ll have the best shot of dealing with whoever’s out there, too.”

“What about an ambulance?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, twisting in his seat uncomfortably.

“That’s what people usually say right before the brain hemorrhage kills them. You need a hospital.”

“Em,” he said, his voice firm. “Stop talking to me and call your dad. Now. Then I want you to find my gun and get ready to protect yourself while I try to work myself loose. Fuckin’ tree.”

My hands shook a little as I dialed my father’s number, but I forced myself to stay calm. Our lives depended on me not falling apart, no matter how scary the situation had gotten.

“Yeah?”

“Dad, it’s Em,” I said. “We’re about four miles from the Armory, and we’re in trouble. Hunter’s truck went off the embankment by the railroad tracks, on the south side of the road. I need you to get here fast.”

“Ambulance?”

“Hunter says no,” I said, glancing down at him again. His color was good, so that was something. “Someone shot our tires. That means they’re out there right now, they’re close, and they know what they’re doing. I need to hang up and grab my gun now.”

I shoved the phone into the console. Now what? My gun was in the purse, which had disappeared into the mass of branches and pine needles.

“My gun should still be down between the seat and the console. I have a holster built in.”

I started digging around, and sure enough, the gun I’d checked for him before was still there. I pulled it out carefully, checking the magazine one more time out of habit before I cocked it. Then I pulled myself up and tried looking out through the windshield.

More branches, everywhere.

That was a good thing, I realized. We had decent cover.

“Should I climb out my window, you think? Look around?”

“No,” Hunter muttered. “Just stay down in the footwell. Our best bet is to hide and wait for the cavalry.”

“I’m a good shot,” I told him, refusing to acknowledge the panic I felt welling up into the back of my throat. Calm down, I told myself firmly. You can lose it later, once we’re safe.

“It’s dark, there’s freezing rain, and all you have is a handgun,” Hunter replied, his voice dry. “Nobody’s a good shot under those conditions. Just stay low, sweetheart. I’m gonna try and get loose, but I’m thinkin’ they’ll have to cut me out of this one. If I die in this truck, don’t tell Skid I got my ass kicked by a tree, okay?”

I snorted, then giggled. Obviously he’d lost his mind. I tried to stay quiet but another giggle broke free. Then Hunter stuck out his tongue at me, and I laughed out loud, tears rolling down my face.

“You’re crazy,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand.

“Maybe,” he said, giving me his crooked smile. “But nothing burns off tension like a laugh. You think you can reach my seat belt?”

I leaned out of the footwell and dug around through the pine needles, ducking my head down to get a better look. In that instant, a bullet punched through the windshield into the passenger seat, passing through right where I’d been just seconds before.

I froze.

“Goddammit,” Hunter said, suddenly thrashing to get free. “Holy f**k, I cannot believe this.”

I fumbled for his seat belt urgently. Crap. CRAP. Just because I knew how to shoot a gun didn’t mean I was ready for a f**king firefight. Another shot tore through the glass, this time closer to Hunter’s head. So much for all that cover . . . Or were they just shooting randomly? I couldn’t figure out how they could possibly see us.

“Back in the footwell,” Hunter ordered, and his voice didn’t leave any room for negotiation. “Keep the gun handy. I don’t know if you’ll get a chance to shoot, but if you do, I want you ready.”

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Joanna Wylde's Novels
» Reaper's Fall (Reapers MC #5)
» Devil's Game (Reapers MC #3)
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» Be Careful What You Wish For
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» The Price of Pleasure (Saurellian Federation #1)
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» Dragon's Mistress (Saurellian Federation #1.6)