Page 25 of Death Rydes Shotgun

My Death releases a guttural groan.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he whispers against my heated skin, his lustful voice vibrating right through my ribs. “So fucking long, Harmony.”

The words land like a bucket of freezing water dumped over my head.

I’ve waited so long.

The intoxicating haze of lust and adrenaline shatters into a thousand jagged pieces. The reality of who I’m with—and where I am—comes crashing back with sickening clarity.

This isn’t a random, thrilling encounter with a dangerous stranger. This is Death. A man who knows my name. A man covered in blood who has been stalking me, watching me, tracking my every move for God knows how long.

A rush of adrenaline floods my system, making me dizzy and instantly drowns out the heat in my core. Every instinct I have screams at me that I’m in lethal danger.

My body stiffens completely beneath him.

“Stop,” I say, my voice harsh and sudden.

Ryder pauses, his lips resting against the top of my pink bra, his hands still clamped onto my waist. He hesitates for a fraction of a second, as if trying to pull himself back from the edge of the dark trance we were both trapped in mere seconds ago.

“Harm—” he begins, his voice thick and rough.

“I said get the fuck off me!” I plant both hands against his broad, solid chest and shove him back with all the strength I can muster.

At the exact same moment, the dull sound of crunching gravel and loud, laughing voices echoes from around the corner of the nearby livestock barn.

“Hey, I think the beer tent is over this way,” a man shouts, his slurred words carrying clearly through the crisp night air.

“Nah, man, it’s back by the Ferris wheel,” another voice replies, the beam of a flashlight bouncing along the wooden wall of the barn, drawing steadily closer to our hiding spot.

The sudden intrusion gives me the leverage I need.

I push harder against Ryder’s chest, taking advantage of his momentary distraction as his head snaps toward the approaching light.

He stumbles back a step, releasing his grip on my hips.

I slide off the tire well instantly, my boots hitting the grass with a soft thud.

Harmony, you idiot. How could you be so careless? This is not why we came back to this God forsaken town.

My mind screams at me, a vicious internal lecture raging behind my eyes as I scramble back from him.

How could I let myself get wrapped up like this? How could I let a complete, unhinged stranger put his hands on me, strip my clothes off, and push me to the edge of sanity in the dark behind a barn?

I should have more control than this. And instead, I almost let a man who might be a killer undo fifteen years of survival in five minutes.

A wild thumping erupts in my chest, no longer from pleasure but from the sheer, degrading fury at my perceived weakness.

“Harmony, wait,” Ryder low-growls, stepping forward, his hand reaching out to catch me again.

“Stay away from me!” I hiss, backing away from his reaching fingers.

I drop to my knees in the grass, my hands frantically searching the dark until my fingers brush the soft, knit fabric of my sweater. I scoop it up off the ground, and pull it violently over my head before he can close the distance between us.

Yanking my father’s hunting knife out of the tire, I sheath the blade, a silent victim of my own horrific lack of judgment.

The flashlight beam from the teenagers clips the side of the tractor, illuminating the heavy shadow of Ryder’s frame as he steps into the open.

I turn on my heel and bolt into the pitch-black shadows behind the livestock barns, my boots tearing through the grass as I run blindly away from him, away from the light, and deep into the cold dark of the night.