Page 8 of Snowed in with the Bodyguard

She doesn’t say it, but the words hover between us, unspoken.

I shake my head. This isn’t her fault. None of it is. “Don’t worry about it,” I mutter, eyes glued to the road as I accelerate, shifting gears to push the engine harder.

The car picks up speed, and I take the next curve as tightly as I dare. The rear end slides out for a fraction of a second, the tires struggling for grip before finally catching hold again. The sharp crack of a bullet hitting the back of the car snaps me from my focus on the road. The unmistakablethunkjolts both of us.

I press the accelerator to the floor, the engine roaring as the car surges forward. Holly’s breathing grows quicker, matching the tempo of the situation, the fear and adrenaline thick in the air between us.

As the SUV closes in, my mind races through possibilities. We can’t stay on this main road; they’ll catch up eventually. Up ahead, I spot a narrow side road that twists through a grove of trees—a rougher path but a chance to lose them.

“Hold on tight, Holly!” I warn, veering sharply onto the side road.

The car jostles violently over the uneven terrain, throwing us against our seats as the wheels fight to keep us on track. Behind us, the headlights disappear momentarily, lost in the foliage.

The branches whip against the sides of the car, scraping and clawing at the paint. Each jolt and bump only heightens the tension, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I fight for control. I’m taking a gamble; this route is risky, but if we can get through it, they might lose our trail.

For a fleeting moment, I dare to hope they’ve been thrown off. The road grows narrower, a treacherous path with snow piling up, making it harder to maneuver. The silence around us is oppressive, broken only by the engine’s rumble and the crunch of snow under the tires. I squint in the darkness, praying for the road to hold.

Then comes the inevitable—a sharp pop and hiss, and the car lurches violently to the side.

“Shit,” I growl as one of the tires blows.

We skid off the road, heading straight for a cluster of towering pine trees. I instinctively throw my arm out, bracing Holly, even though her seatbelt does the job better than I can. My stomach tightens as I brace for impact.

The car slams to a halt against the tree trunk, the windshield shattering into a web of fractures. The airbags deploy, filling my vision with a suffocating field of white. I fight back a surge of panic as I push against the airbag, struggling to catch my breath as it deflates. Outside, the cold night air rushes in, sharp and biting.

I fumble as I reach for the door and wrench it open. The snow crunches beneath my boots as I stumble out and circle the car, my mind racing. Holly is dazed but alive, her wide eyes reflecting the shock of the crash. My heart clenches as I see the confusion and fear clouding her gaze.

I reach inside, helping her out of the car and scanning her for injuries. “Are you okay?”

She nods weakly. “I-I think so.”

She trembles as she clutches my hand. Her face is pale, her breathing shallow.

By some miracle, we’ve both escaped unscathed.

I wrench open the trunk and pull out our coats, helping Holly put hers on before shrugging into mine. Next, I grab my bag—a black tactical pack I never travel without. It’s filled with emergency supplies, and as I sling it over my shoulder, I thank past me for being paranoid enough to pack it. I dig out a small handheld GPS device from the bag and click it on, the screen lighting up faintly in the cold night air. The cabin is marked as a waypoint. It’s a long walk, but it’s our best shot at safety.

The frigid air stings my lungs as I look around, taking in the landscape. Towering pine trees surround us, their branches heavy with snow, the shadows stretching into the darkness.

“We can’t stay here,” I tell her, my voice firm. “The car’s a sitting target, and we don’t know how close they are.” I pull out the GPS and show her the faint blinking dot marking the cabin’s location. “This is the cabin. It’s a few miles from here. It’s a hike, but it’s hidden, and it’ll buy us time.”

She stares at the screen, her lips pressed into a thin line, before nodding. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Stay close to me,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the wreckage. The snow crunches beneath our boots as we step into the dense woods, the cold biting at any exposed skin.

Holly keeps pace beside me, her breaths visible in the icy air, but she doesn’t complain, doesn’t falter. I glance at her, the pale moonlight catching the determination in her eyes, and a surge of admiration washes over me.

The GPS beeps softly, guiding us toward the cabin. It’s not much; a small, isolated place I set up for emergencies, but it’s well-stocked and secure. I know we’ll be safe there, at least for a while.

We trudge forward, each step sinking into the icy drifts, the snow crunching beneath our feet. The silence is unnerving, broken only by the distant hum of an engine straining through the forest behind us. They’re still on our trail.

“We’ll get through this,” I promise, my voice low but unwavering. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her hand tightens around mine, her grip firm despite the cold. “I trust you, Jack.”

As her hazel eyes meet mine, I swear I’ll make good on that vow, no matter the cost.

As we press on, a shadow emerges from the tree line ahead, moving with purpose. My heart thunders as I grab Holly’s hand, pulling her close in a protective stance. The figure steps into the moonlight, revealing a rugged man with hard eyes and a gun in hand.

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