Page 33 of Death Rydes Shotgun

I’m forced to drop low, taking cover behind the bed of a rusted pickup truck.

My gaze stays locked on Harmony as she quickens her pace, practically sprinting across the gravel to get out of the exposed open air and reach the safety of her car.

I stay low, creeping through the rows of parked vehicles, moving toward the narrow exit lane that feeds directly onto the dark asphalt of the city streets.

Harmony’s engine roars to life. Her headlights cut through the gloom as her car shoots out of her parking space, kicking up pebbles as she floors it toward the exit.

The wind hasn’t let up. And now rain crashes down in a blinding, heavy torrent, soaking the earth in seconds.

I step straight out of the shadows and stand dead center in the middle of the narrow exit lane, blocking her path.

Harmony’s tires screech wildly against the wet gravel as she slams on her brakes, stopping the hood of her car inches from my knees.

The pouring rain stabs me like tiny icicles, soaking straight through my hoodie, plastering wet hair to my forehead and running in dark rivulets down my face.

I stand motionless in her high beams, my eyes darting toward the distant flashing lights of the crime scene behind her, then snapping back to lock onto her windshield.

Through the glass, I watch her mind working at hyper-speed.

She glances frantically in her rearview mirror at the same flashing red and blue bars reflecting off the rain, then cuts her eyes back to me.

She hesitates for two agonizing seconds, debating whether to throw the car in reverse or run me down.

Will she be my savior or my ruin?

The door locks click, the sound echoing in the air.

Harmony reaches across the console, popping the passenger door open, and frantically gestures for me to get inside.

Savior it is, then.

I waste no time. I yank the door open, slide my wet frame into the leather seat, and slam it shut.

Harmony stomps on the gas.

The tires slip for a fraction of a second on the slick mud before gripping the pavement, and we high tail it out of the parking lot, speeding blindly onto the dark, rain-slicked stretch of road, heading for Blackwood Highway once more.

The wipers slap violently back and forth against the glass, barely keeping up with the downpour. The intense stillness in the cabin is so suffocating that it makes me want to split my own chest open just so I can breathe.

Harmony keeps her hands gripped tight on the wheel at ten and two, her eyes locked on the dark road ahead. She either senses my unease or can’t stand her own, because she breaks the silence.

“You know every cop in the county will be looking for you.”

As if I don’t already know that.

The rain pounds on the roof of the car like a war drum.

Harmony eases up on the gas as she finishes her statement. “More than a few people saw you have an altercation with Marcus.”

I don’t answer right away, only turn my head slowly, eyeing her from the passenger seat.

Rain drips from the hair still stuck to my forehead, running down the bridge of my nose and dropping onto my soaked jeans.

She swerves slightly around a flooded dip in the asphalt, then flashes her gaze sideways to glare at me.

“Did you do it, Ryder?”

Her tone intrigues me. It’s a mix of fear and perverse fascination.