Revenge to the Alpha Mate - Chapter 227

Chapter 227: Chapter 227
Jacob’s Perspective

Damn it. I’m a goddamn fool.

Last night was a rusty nail driven into my skull. I’d been too impatient, drunk on that feeling of having her back and the longing I’d bottled up for so long. I forgot the wounds in her heart were still raw. When she pushed me away, the struggle and pain in her eyes hurt worse than any bullet I’d ever taken.

So, I apologized. Then I got the hell out of there and took a cold shower, trying to drown the stupid thoughts and the physical restlessness. Slept like shit. I could feel her lying rigid and still on her side of the bed too.

When morning finally came, the sun was already high. My stomach felt hollow enough to swallow a whole deer. Celena went out quietly and came back with a paper bag full of burgers, fries, and two icy Cokes. We sat on the edge of the bed and ate in silence. The greasy food filled the emptiness in our stomachs but did nothing for the awkward void between us.

“We keep watch today,” I said after gulping down some Coke, trying to sound normal. “But from further back. We need to change our position.”

We drove back, approaching the area with even more caution than before. I parked behind a ridge much farther away than yesterday and raised the binoculars. Everything looked the same. High walls. Razor wire. Patrolling guards.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe my head was still stuck in last night’s mess, but I made a rookie mistake.

The grey Chevy. It had been near here yesterday, and now it was back in roughly the same spot. In this remote, sparsely traveled area, it was like a loud belch in a quiet library—way too conspicuous.

“Damn it,” I swore under my breath, lowering the binoculars and reaching for the ignition to move our lookout spot.

Too late.

From two side roads, two reinforced black pickup trucks roared out, engines screaming. They moved to flank us, one in front, one behind, like a pincer movement. They’d been watching us. The drivers wore caps and sunglasses, their expressions hidden, but their hostile intent was palpable even from a distance.

“Hold on!” I yelled, slamming the gearshift and stomping the gas. The Chevy’s tires spun wildly in the gravel for a second before lurching forward like a spooked rabbit.

Almost simultaneously—

Boom! Crash!

A flash from the roof of a distant building. A shotgun blast! The passenger side window exploded inward, showering us with glass. Thank god Celena was already ducking low.

“Down! Stay down!” I barked, pressing my hand hard against the back of her neck, pulling her toward me. I hunched my own back, practically lying over the steering wheel, driving by feel and peripheral vision as the car bounced and swerved violently over the rough terrain.

We barely squeezed through the gap before the two pickups could close it, skidding onto the main road. But the trouble wasn’t over.

The pickups gave chase. The passenger window of the lead truck rolled down, and the dark barrel of a rifle emerged.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Automatic rifle fire! Bullets chased us like a hailstorm. The rear window shattered completely. Sickening thuds pounded the body of the car as bullets punched into the metal. One side mirror was shot clean off. The air filled with the acrid smells of gunpowder and scorched metal.

I kept the gas pedal floored, swerving the car erratically left and right. Every second stretched into an eternity.

Bang! Hisssss—!

A different sound, then the car lurched violently and pulled hard to the left. Damn it, a tire was hit!

I wrestled with the steering wheel, but the car, lurching like a drunk, careened off the road, plowed through some bushes, and finally slammed into a slender tree with a sickening crunch. The engine died, white smoke curling from the crumpled hood.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. I shook my head, turning immediately to Celena. “You okay? Are you hit?”

She was pale, bits of glass glittering in her hair, but she did a quick check and shook her head, her eyes sharp. “No. Let’s go!”

We grabbed our go-bags—thankfully, the important stuff was in them—kicked the doors open, and scrambled into the dense woods beside the road. Using the trees as cover, we ran deeper into the forest without looking back.

When we were far enough, I ducked behind a thick tree and peered back. The two pickups had stopped near our wreck. A few men got out, examined our smoking car, and fired a couple of reckless, sweeping bursts into the tree line. Bullets ripped through leaves, sending them fluttering down. But they didn’t seem interested in pursuing us into the woods. It was more like they were swatting away a persistent fly. After a moment, they got back in their trucks and drove off.

“Pah.” I spat out dust and bits of grass, touching the stinging cuts on my neck from the glass. “Just our goddamn luck.”

Celena’s Perspective

Well, this was… just perfect.

Last night was awkward and painful, but at least there had been a roof, a bed, four walls. Now? We were like a pair of flushed game birds, hiding in the woods. The night wind moaned through the treetops. The occasional call of an unseen animal and the distant hum of a car on the highway kept my nerves on a tight wire.

Thankfully, Jacob—whether out of premonition or simple caution—had picked up some basic camping gear at the general store in town before we left this morning: a small tent, a single sleeping bag, a coil of rope, some crackers, and water. That was our entire world now.

We found a relatively flat, dry clearing and set up the flimsy tent. We dared only a small fire, built from twigs and dry leaves. The flames were weak, offering just a little warmth against the night’s chill and dampness, and a faint, dancing light. The firelight played over Jacob’s silent face as he used his pocketknife to sharpen a long stick, maybe for defense, maybe for something else.

Those men who attacked us… they were sharp, and they hadn’t hesitated to use lethal force. That wasn’t normal factory security behavior. But their actions afterward were strange. They didn’t chase us into the woods to finish the job. It was like they just wanted to drive us away from the area.

“It’s like… they just don’t want anyone getting close?” I hugged my knees, watching the flames, voicing my thought quietly. “Not necessarily to catch or kill us.”

Jacob paused his whittling and nodded. “Like marking territory. A warning to stay the hell away. But using rifles? That’s one hell of a welcoming committee.”

It meant whatever that place was hiding was worth protecting that violently. The thought filled me with dread, but also a flicker of hope—the more heavily guarded it was, the more likely it was connected to Brett, to the missing wolves.

“We need Lily,” I said softly, feeling the night’s cold seeping through my jacket.

Jacob looked up at me. In the firelight, his eyes were deep pools. “Yeah. They should be here tomorrow.”

He set the sharpened stick aside and brushed wood shavings from his hands. “I’ll take first watch. You sleep. Use the sleeping bag.”

“But…” I started to suggest taking turns, but the firmness in his gaze made me stop. The awkwardness and conflict from last night still hung between us, but here, in these dangerous woods, we only had each other to rely on.

I crawled into the narrow single sleeping bag, turning my back to him and the small fire. My body was exhausted, but my mind was alert, listening to the faint crackle of the fire and Jacob’s deliberately soft breathing. The darkness of the forest felt heavy, pressing down. I closed my eyes and sent a silent plea into the night: Lily, please hurry. We need you.