Out of the corner of his eye, Jackson noticed movement. Warren was edging toward the door, his shoulders hunched, trying to make himself smaller. He had kept his head down the entire time they’d been talking to Mick.
Jackson’s gut tightened. “Stay where you are,” he snapped.
Warren froze, his hand hovering near the doorknob. When he finally lifted his head, Mick’s expression changed. His eyes narrowed, then widened in recognition.
“I know you,” Mick said, pointing at him.
Warren’s face went pale. “No, you don’t,” he said quickly. “You’re mistaken.”
“The hell I am,” Mick shot back. “You were at my house once. You came with Charlotte.”
Warren shook his head hard, backing up a step. “You’ve got me confused with someone else.”
Jackson’s focus jumped between the two men, every muscle in his body tight. “What the hell is going on here?”
Before anyone could answer, the low growl of an engine carried through the rain. Tires crunched on the gravel road.
Mick’s head whipped toward the sound. “No,” he said under his breath. “No, no, no.”
He turned and bolted for his truck.
Jackson took a step after him. “Mick!”
Mick threw open the driver’s side door, shouting over the rain. “It’s them. My mother and Darian. They found me. They’ll kill all of us if we stay here.”
The roar of the approaching vehicle grew louder, headlights cutting through the sheets of rain.
Jackson’s pulse jumped. Whatever was coming, they were out of time.
Chapter Eight
“Oh, God,” Avery whispered, her chest tightening at the sound of Mick’s shout.
Charlotte and Darian.
They were coming here.
Mick jumped into his truck, slammed the door, and gunned the engine. The tires spun on the wet gravel before catching, throwing mud behind him as he tore away from the house.
He couldn’t go back down the main road, not without running head-on into Charlotte and Darian. Instead, he veered off toward a side trail that cut through the trees. Avery’s heart pounded as she watched the taillights vanish into the rain. The narrow track looked almost identical to the one she and Jackson had used to escape the grenade attack.
If they needed to run, that trail could be their way out.
Jackson didn’t waste a second. He grabbed her arm, his voice urgent and in command. “Get in the SUV.”
She hesitated, glancing toward Warren, who stood frozen in the doorway, pale and useless.
“Now, Avery,” Jackson barked.
She ran with him through the rain, the cold cutting through her clothes as water splashed around her boots. The headlights from the approaching vehicle glowed faintly through the curtain of rain, growing brighter by the second.
Jackson yanked open the passenger door and pushed her toward it. “The SUV’s bullet-resistant,” he said. “It’s safer than the house. Stay low and don’t move until I tell you.”
Avery climbed in, her hands trembling as she gripped the seat. She watched through the windshield as Jackson backed away from the door, his weapon already in hand, his focus locked on the approaching lights down the drive.
Her throat tightened. He wasn’t getting in. He was staying out there.
“Jackson, get in!” Avery shouted, her voice barely carrying over the rain.