THE HUNT

THE HUNT
Rubber screamed against asphalt as Ethan’s pickup surged forward, gears grinding as we tore through the back entrance road of the secluded clinic. My breath caught with every twist of the wheel. Adrian was cradled in my arms, semi-conscious, his head against my shoulder, while Ethan’s knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

Behind us—hell chased on wheels.

A black SUV swerved into the rearview, headlights blazing. Then another.

“They’re catching up!” I shouted over the roar of the engine and the wind howling through the cracked window.

Ethan gritted his teeth. “I see them.”

Gunfire erupted. A sharp ping struck the rear bumper, then another. I ducked, shielding Adrian with my body.

“Shit!” Ethan yelled, jerking the wheel as a bullet hit the left taillight, shattering it.

Adrian stirred slightly. “Wha… what’s happening?”

“Not now,” I muttered, holding him tightly. “Just stay with me, Adrian. You’re safe.”

“Safe?” he rasped. “Someone’s shooting at us!”

“I know. But we’re getting out.”

Up ahead, the road narrowed. Trees lined both sides like silent witnesses to the madness unfolding on the pavement.

One of the SUVs suddenly accelerated and pulled up beside us. Now side by side.

The driver of the SUV turned toward us—expressionless, cold—and jerked his wheel.

CRASH!

The side of Ethan’s truck slammed against the SUV, metal grinding on metal. The impact shook us so hard Adrian’s body jerked in my arms.

Ethan fought for control, swerving violently. “They’re trying to push us off the road!”

“Do something!” I cried.

“Working on it!”

Adrian groaned, half-conscious. “Why… why is this happening?”

“Because someone wants us dead,” I snapped, voice tight with fear. “And they’ll do anything to keep their secrets buried.”

Another hit. The SUV rammed into us again, harder this time. The edge of the road was drawing closer. Trees loomed.

“Ethan!”

“Hold on!”

At the last second, Ethan yanked the wheel hard right, cutting the wheel across the lane. The truck skidded, tires screaming, then shot forward just before a semi-truck thundered past in the opposite direction.

The SUV barely missed getting sideswiped.

“They’re not giving up,” Ethan growled.

More gunshots.

Bullets ripped through the rear panel. One shattered the back window. Glass exploded around us.

“Down!” I shouted, throwing myself over Adrian again.

“Oh my God,” I gasped.

We barely missed it.

Ethan jerked the wheel sharply and accelerated, matching the speed of the SUV beside us.

“Hold on,” he growled. With precise timing, he rammed the side of our vehicle into the enemy’s front bumper. The SUV swerved, tires screeching against the asphalt. 

The driver tried to recover—but it was too late. The vehicle spun violently, skidding sideways before slamming into a massive tree at the edge of the road. The impact echoed like thunder.

Metal crumpled. Glass shattered. The SUV stilled, smoke curling from its hood. Ethan didn’t wait—he pushed the gas and sped us back into the lead.

“That’s it,” Ethan growled. “Hang on.”

He slammed the brakes, spun the wheel hard right, and pulled off onto a narrow gravel path leading into the woods. Trees loomed ahead, thick and dark.

“You’re taking us into the forest?” I asked.

“They won’t follow,” Ethan said. “It’s too tight for their cars. Trust me.”

As if on cue, branches slapped the windshield. We jolted over roots and ruts, the car rocking violently. Behind us, the SUV swerved and tried to follow—but the gap was too narrow. A tree scratched its side. Then another.

“Too wide,” Ethan muttered. “You’ll lose, you bastard.”

He turned sharply again, cutting through a clearing. The second SUV appeared at the edge of the woods behind us, hesitating.

Then…

“Lights off,” Ethan said. He killed the headlights and slowed the car to a near crawl.

The trees swallowed us in darkness.

Silence.

My breath caught.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Then the second SUV blasted past the forest entrance, speeding down the road, completely unaware that we’d veered off.

We didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

The woods were so still, even the rustling of leaves felt loud.

After a minute, Ethan finally spoke. “I think we lost them.”

My chest heaved as I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “Thank God.”

“I need to shut the engine. We can’t risk the heat signature.”

Ethan turned the key. The car sputtered and then went silent.

All that remained was the wind through the trees… and the soft wheezing behind me.

“Adrian,” I said, twisting around. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

His eyes were closed, head resting against the window.

“No,” I whispered.

I climbed into the back seat beside him, gently lifting his chin.

“Adrian,” I said again. “Talk to me.”

He stirred. His brow furrowed, a soft groan escaping his lips. “My head…” he murmured.

“He’s okay,” Ethan said. “Probably fainted from the blood loss and adrenaline.”

“Help me get him more upright,” I said.

Together, we adjusted his posture, making sure his breathing was stable.

Then we sat still again.

“I think we need to lay low,” Ethan said. “At least until morning. They’ll double back once they realize we’re not on the main road.”

I nodded, eyes still on Adrian.

His face was pale in the moonlight filtering through the windshield. The man I had come to love—had fought so hard to protect—lay barely conscious beside me.

“We can’t stop now,” I whispered.

“No,” Ethan agreed. “But we also can’t run blind.”

My fingers trembled as I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the small flash drive.

“The evidence is still here,” I said. “Everything. The board votes. The birth certificate. The stolen contracts. The Blackwell lies.”

Ethan looked at me. “And Adrian still doesn’t know.”

“No,” I said softly. “But he will.”

Ethan leaned back in the driver’s seat, exhaling slowly. “You really think he’ll believe it? That Victoria betrayed him? Lied to him his whole life?”

“I think… he’ll believe me,” I said. “And if he doesn’t… then I’ll show him.”

We sat in silence for a while.

The wind outside whistled softly. A wolf howled in the distance.

I reached over and gently took Adrian’s hand.

“Rest,” I whispered to him. “You’re safe now.”

But I knew better. This wasn’t over.