Page 18 of Ranger's Justice

I glare at him. “You could say please.”

His gaze snaps to mine, dark and cautioning. “I could, but I’m not going to. Now, Cassidy.”

Damn it. I want to fight him. But the wildness is still there, lurking just under the surface, and something tells me I shouldn’t push him right now. I slide into the passenger seat, crossing my arms. Rush gets in and slams his door shut, reaching across to buckle my belt before he fastens his own. His hands reach up to the steering wheel, fingers clenching around it, his jaw still tight as steel.

The engine roars to life, and just like that, we’re gone.

I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s still on edge. Still too tense, too controlled.

But whatever he is or isn’t, I’ve seen it—just for a moment, but it was there. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was reading something out of one of my favorite paranormal romance novels. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s something different about Rushton—something not entirely human.

CHAPTER 5

RUSH

Cassidy’s pissed. So am I. She glares at me from the passenger seat, arms crossed, her whole body humming with defiance. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand what she just did, how close she came to dying in that goddamn loft.

But I do, and my wolf is still snarling inside me, demanding blood.

I grip the wheel so hard it might snap. The city blurs past as I take another sharp turn, cutting through back streets, weaving between cars. The longer we sit still, the more time the cartel has to close in.

I can feel them, like a scent carried on the wind, like an unspoken threat curling in the air. They’re coming, and they won’t stop until Cassidy is nothing more than a problem erased from existence.

I check the rearview mirror—nothing, yet. I force myself to focus, my pulse steady but my instincts on high alert. The cartel doesn’t take insults lightly, and Cassidy just spat in their face. The Del Toro cartel is not in the business of letting people go.

She wriggles in her seat, her frustration radiating off her in waves. “I’m assuming you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on at some point.”

I grit my teeth, keeping my voice even. “The cartel is hunting you. That’s what’s going on.”

She lets out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, I figured that part out when Ortega stuck a gun in my ribs.”

I snap my head toward her, eyes burning. “Then why the hell did you go back to your apartment?”

She doesn’t flinch, but I see the flicker of something in her gaze. “The whole being in a gunfight may be old hat to you and your rangers, but it isn’t to me. Compound that with not getting answers to questions and being left to my own devices while you and all the big, strong men decided how to handle it. Frankly, my feelings were ones of exhaustion, fear, and frustration. In short, I wanted to go home.”

I let out a slow breath, reigning in the rage clawing at my gut.

“You nearly got yourself killed.”

Her eyes narrow. “All evidence to the contrary, I’m not some helpless victim, Rush.”

Damn her. Damn her fire, her stubbornness, her refusal to see the truth.

I slow the truck just enough to take a side road, pushing the engine hard, cutting through the edges of downtown where the streetlights are sparse. I need to get her out of here. Somewhere safe. Somewhere they won’t find her because I know they’re coming.

I am grimly determined not to lose her tonight, or ever for that matter.

The moment I take the next turn, my gut twists. My wolf perks up, hackles raising, as I see him in my mind’s eye. Something is wrong. I check the rearview again—headlights flare to life behind us. Too many. Too fast.

Damn it.

“Hold on,” I mutter.

Cassidy barely has time to react before the first gunshot rips through the night. I jerk the wheel, sending the truck into a hard left, tires screeching against asphalt.

Cassidy curses, gripping the edge of the seat. “Jesus, Rush…”

Another shot. Closer.

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