The Aston Martin was hit hard.
Remi cried out when her shoulder hit the door.
The car slid on the wet pavement, the seatbelt securing her.
Behind them, the black SUV accelerated again, headlights cutting through the storm like predator eyes.
“Erick…”
“Brace.”
The SUV rammed them a second time.
Metal screamed.
The Aston spun halfway across the road before Erick yanked the wheel back, tires screeching.
Rain hammered the windshield so hard the world outside looked underwater.
Remi gripped the dashboard.
“Who the hell are they?!”
Erick glanced at the mirror.
“Not Laurent’s security.”
That made it worse.
The SUV surged forward again.
This time, Remi saw the passenger window roll down.
A rifle barrel poked through the rain.
“Erick!”
Gunfire erupted.
The rear windshield shattered inward.
Glass sprayed across the seats.
The driver near the guardrail dropped into the mud, screaming.
Erick shoved Remi down as bullets tore through the trunk.
“Stay low.”
His voice was ice-cold.
Like he’d done this before.
The Aston’s engine roared as Erick floored it.
“But the car was disabled…”
“I fixed it.”
Remi stared at him.
“You fixed military-grade encryption in thirty seconds?!”
“I built half the encryption this country uses,” he snapped.
“Seatbelt.”
The SUV closed in again.
Rain blurred everything into streaks.
Trees flashed by like ghosts.
Another burst of gunfire hit the road beside them—sparks exploding near the tires.
Remi’s pulse hammered.
This wasn’t some corporate scandal.
Someone was trying to kill Erick.
Judging by his expression—he knew who.
“You said they found you first,” Remi said.
“Who found you?”
Erick didn’t answer.
The SUV swerved beside them, spraying water across the windshield.
Remi glimpsed tinted windows.
Military plating.
Professionals.
The rifle fired again.
A bullet punched through the side mirror inches from Remi’s face.
“Erick!”
“Still alive?”
“Yes!”
“Good.”
He downshifted as the road split, Hartford or unlit forest roads.
Erick took the forest route.
The Aston hydroplaned briefly before gripping the narrow path.
The SUV followed.
“You knew this could happen,” Remi said.
“I considered it.”
“You considered assassins?!” Remi raised her voice.
“I considered people panicking after tonight.”
His calmness scared her more than the bullets.
Another shot.
The rear tire exploded.
The Aston swerved violently.
Erick fought the wheel as the car spun sideways—mud spraying.
The SUV sped toward them.
Closing fast.
Remi looked at Erick.
The car skidded off the road and slammed into a ditch—airbags deploying.
Silence.
Smoke hissed from the hood.
The SUV stopped twenty yards back.
Four figures stepped out, rifles raised.
Remi’s blood went cold.
“Erick…”
But Erick was already moving.
“Can you run?”
“What?!”
“Can you run?”
“Yes!”
“Good.”
He kicked the door open and dragged her into the woods as bullets tore through the Aston’s frame.
Branches whipped their faces.
Mud sucked at their shoes.
“How are they tracking us?!” Remi gasped.
“The car.”
“You said you fixed it!”
“I fixed enough to move.”
Flashlights swept behind them.
Closer.
Erick caught her waist before she slipped downhill.
“Move.”
“You’re too calm!”
“I am calm.”
“That’s insane!”
Another gunshot.
Bark exploded near Erick’s head.
He shoved Remi behind a fallen log just as two figures emerged.
Erick fired twice.
Both dropped instantly.
Too many.
“They brought a whole team,” Remi whispered.
“They expected resistance.”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
His answer hit harder than thunder.
“Who the hell are you?”
Erick reloaded.
“Wrong question.”
Another beam cut through the trees.
He grabbed her hand.
“Run.”
They sprinted deeper into the forest.
Rainwater flooded the ground.
Remi’s lungs burned.
Behind them, they heard shouted commands.
Someone powerful wanted Erick dead.
Her father’s face flashed in her mind.
Leroy Laurent.
Senator Clarke.
Victor Hale.
GD Tech.
Quade.
All connected somehow.
“You knew this would happen after the files leaked,” she panted.
“Yes.”
“So tonight wasn’t just revenge.”
“No.”
“What was it then?”
Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating Erick’s face.
Cold.
Focused.
Merciless.
“A declaration of war.”
The words sent ice through her veins.
Gunfire erupted again.
A bullet tore through a tree inches from Remi’s head.
Erick tackled her downhill.
They rolled through mud before crashing near a raging river.
Flashlights surrounded the ridge above them.
One attacker raised his rifle.
A voice echoed through the rain.
“Chairman Quade.”
Remi froze.
Erick stiffened.
The man stepped forward in military gear.
“Orders changed,” he called.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Remi’s heartbeat stopped.
Then the attacker lifted his rifle and said the name Erick never expected to hear.
“Congressman Clarke sends his regards.”