Page 73 of Death Rydes Shotgun

Ten minutes crawl by in absolute silence, the engine’s low hum the only sound in the cabin.

Then, roughly two hundred yards ahead, the heavy fog fractures.

A tall, slender figure emerges from the black wall of the tree line, stumbling slightly onto the gravel shoulder of the road. Just as I predicted.

My heart gives a violent, heavy thud against my ribs.

Harmony.

Even through the thick fog and the dim light, I’d recognize that silhouette anywhere. She’s breathing hard, her wet hair plastered to her neck, clutching her sweater tightly around her waist.

I press my foot down on the gas pedal, intending to pull the cruiser right up beside her and cut off her path.

Before I can close the distance, a pair of bright red headlights cuts through the fog up ahead.

A flashy, sports car comes from the opposite direction, slows down and makes a U-turn, pulling over onto the shoulder directly in front of her.

I hit the brakes, coming to a sudden halt a hundred yards back, my headlights cutting through the mist.

My blood instantly boils to a terrifying, scalding heat.

Through the fog, I watch as Harmony approaches the vehicle.

“What are you up to, pretty girl?” I say under my breath, my fingers drum along the top of the leather steering wheel. “I sure hope you don’t think that fucker can save you from me. You’re mine.”

An explosive wave of pure, possessive rage crashes over me, making my jaw clench until my teeth ache.

She can’t be this fucking careless. Not after everything we’ve been through tonight—after watching a man get slaughtered on a porch, after running from a potential serial killer in the dark—she’s just going to hop into a rusty car with a stranger on a deserted highway at four in the morning?

A hundred violent thoughts race through my mind, each one darker than the last. I think of all the ways I’m going to make her pay for this.

I’ll drag her out of that car, throw her over my shoulder, and lock her somewhere so dark, while I fuck her until she’ll forget what the sun looks like. I’ll make her scream until her voice gives out, reminding her who she actually belongs to.

She has her father’s heavy hunting knife tucked back at her waist, so she isn’t helpless; she’s proven tonight that she has a sharp, vicious instinct for survival when pushed into a corner. She can take care of herself if the bastard in that car tries anything.

But it doesn’t matter.

No one else gets to touch her. No one else gets to look at her, speak to her, or hold her in the dark.

I’m her dark guardian. Her fallen angel. Her absolute nightmare. And if that stranger in the sports car so much as lays a single finger on what belongs to me... I’ll gut him alive and leave his rotting remains scattered along this highway for the crows to feast on.

I fix my gaze on those faint red lights, a cold, psychotic smile slowly carving across my face as I stare at the tail lights through the mist.

Keep running, pretty girl. I’m right behind you.

Twenty-Three

Devil’s Hour

HARMONY

4:55 AM

Finally, the night belongs to me again.

Although my lungs ache, my boots are coated with thick mud, and the sharp briars have caused small stabs of pain on my skin, none of it matters.

I made it out.