Ian launched himself toward Sam but grabbed the phone only after Savannah had heard him claim he’d make sure she cooperated.

His fear was realized the moment he saw the look on her face, anger covering hurt even as he watched the transformation.

“Sam, you piece of—”

“Dude.” Sam grabbed his phone. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Me? I swear sometimes for all your brains, you don’t have an ounce of common sense.”

Everly’s phone rang. “Shut up,” she told the guys. “It’s Rosen.”

She turned away, answering the phone with one hand, the other blocking noise in her opposite ear. When Ian turned toward Savannah, he found her walking toward his truck.

“Jesus Christ,” Ian said. “You sure know how to make problems, Slaughter.”

“You’re the one making problems with her, dude. I don’t have anything to do with that.”

“I’d have to agree with him,” Roman told Ian, clearly unhappy.

Not only had Ian stepped over the line with Savannah, he hadn’t prepared her for all this.

Everly ended her call and waited for Savannah to return with Jamison.

“We want to go home,” she told the group, primarily holding Roman’s gaze. Then she glanced at Everly. “Everly can take us.”

Fuck. Ian felt like he’d swallowed a boulder.

Everly glanced at Jamison and said, “Sam, why don’t you show Jamison how you make your special snowballs.”

“My what?” Sam said.

“Stop with the absentminded-professor routine,” she told him. “Your. Special. Snowballs.”

Roman nudged Sam’s shoulder. “Go play with the kid, would you?”

When Sam and Jamison were out of earshot, Everly gave Savannah an apologetic look. “Sorry, girl, you can’t go home.” She turned her gaze on the guys. “Someone called in a Savannah sighting at Bishop’s house. He left the board meeting and discovered everything missing from the safe. Then found Savannah and Jamison MIA.”

“Shit,” Ian bit out.

“He’s geared up his cavalry of half-wits and sent them out on the hunt with an order to use any force necessary to capture Savannah on sight and to bring Jamison and the contents of the safe back.”

“Oh my God,” Savannah murmured, stricken. Her gaze instantly locked on Ian, her expression scared and searching. But then dropped away a split second later, as if she realized he wasn’t her ally anymore.

“Every cop in the county is looking for them. He said to take the back roads to get out of Hazard. Join up with the highway once we’re fifty miles clear.”

“After all the recent snow?” Ian said. “That’s going to take hours. Do we even know which roads are plowed?”

“Sam will be able to tell us,” Roman told them. “He can hack into the state transportation database. Let’s get moving. The bigger our head start, the better. Liam and I will switch cars with Ian and take the lead. Everly, you and Sam take Jamison and the middle position. Ian, you and Savannah are the chaser.”

“I don’t know what a chaser is,” Savannah said, “but Jamison is not going in a different car. He stays with me.”

“He can’t,” Ian told her.

“Don’t tell me—” Savannah immediately attacked.

“We aren’t trying to keep him from you,” Everly cut in, her voice soft but deliberate. “It’s safer to have you in different cars.”

Liam stepped away from the conversation to pull the seat and the DVD player from the truck.

“Why?” Savannah demanded. “Safer how?”

“His chances of getting both of you are significantly diminished,” Ian told her.

“If he captures you,” Roman told her in his signature all-business commander tone, “he won’t kill you if he thinks you have Jamison’s location.”

“And we’d get you back before he realizes you can’t help him,” Ian added, hoping to calm the hysteria brewing in her eyes. “If he captures Jamison, you stay alive, and then we’ll find Jamison.”

“This isn’t a fucking video game.” Terror pulled the color from her cheeks. Shock darkened her eyes. Ian ached to reach out to her, reassure her. But he sank deeper into enemy territory with every new complication that slashed at her life. “This is my life.”

“Which we’re trying to save,” Roman told her. “Sam, get the kid. Let’s go.”

In a snowbank to the left, Jamison hit Sam with a snowball and giggled. But terror broke across Savannah’s face. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”

Everly stepped up to Savannah and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll keep him in his seat and run the DVD player nonstop. Sam’s just a five-year-old genius in an adult’s body. He’ll be Jamison’s new best friend in twenty minutes.”

She finally looked at Ian. “What do you think? Where will Jamison be safest?”

Hope buoyed her heart. Until he had to tell her, “With Everly and Sam in the middle car.”

Tears welled in her eyes. But she pressed her lips together and turned back to Everly. “You promised…”

Her voice broke, and Everly pulled her into a quick hug. “And I keep my promises.”

Everly called to Sam and started toward the Jeep. Savannah followed. She settled Jamison into the back and did a decent job of making the situation seem like an adventure rather than a tenuous life-saving escape.

“We’re burnin’ daylight here, people,” Roman called out the truck’s window.

Ian had to stuff his feelings and pull Savannah from the Jeep. She jerked her arm away and walked ahead of him to the Suburban. Inside, Savannah dropped her head into her hands and choked down sobs. Regret swamped Ian. But with time as their enemy, he couldn’t wallow. At least not outwardly.

He followed the others’ lead and backed onto the road they’d come in on, then followed Everly’s Jeep. Savannah stopped crying almost immediately, curled into her seat, and stared out the passenger’s window.

She stayed silent so long, Ian was convinced she’d never talk to him again. In his ear, the team relayed travel information and Bishop updates as Rosen phoned them into Everly. So far, Bishop and the deputies were weaving a futile pattern around Hazard County, but Lyle had enlisted the help of locals to cover the town so the deputies could cross county lines and patrol the highway farther south. Ian had no doubt Sam was tracking every Hazard sheriff’s vehicle on a map that showed open and plowed roads.

With no immediate threat and Savannah giving him a well-deserved cold shoulder, Ian was trapped in his own head. The scenery might have been breathtaking, but he couldn’t do more than glance at the occasional vacation home off the road while he fought to figure out how he was going to get back into Savannah’s good graces.

Twenty minutes into the drive, she broke the silence with “Why did we switch cars?”

Internally, he winced. While he’d been craving connection and the sound of her voice, he also dreaded the questions he’d have to answer in ways she wouldn’t understand or like.

“So the lead car has a shooter,” he answered.

“I shoot.” Her voice was flat and tired. “But not like you guys, I guess.”

That made a smile tip his lips. “You shoot?”

“Everyone in Montana shoots.”

Silence filled the car again but lasted only five minutes this time.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“We have a temporary headquarters in Whitefish. We’ll regroup there.”

Another long silence.

In the Jeep, Jamison and Sam started singing If You’re Happy and You Know It.

“Oh my God,” Everly groaned over the mic. “Kill me now. Roman, you owe me.”

Ian took his earpiece out and offered it to Savannah. “This will put a smile on your face.”

When she didn’t reject him, Ian positioned it in her ear and Savannah held it there with one hand. He watched as joy lifted her features and her mouth curved in a smile. She laughed and closed her eyes with a look of happiness he hadn’t seen in what seemed like far too long. In fact, it had been less than twenty-four hours ago, when they’d been lying in bed together.

In the next instant, her smile fell. Fear tightened her features, and she cut a look at Ian.

“What?” He took the earbud and replaced it in his ear.

“—two vehicles a quarter of a mile ahead of us,” Sam was saying.

“Cops?” he asked.

“Weren’t you listening?” Sam shot back.

“Plan?” he asked.

“Take a left at the next plowed road,” Sam said, “then your first right onto forest service land. We’ll cut across the pass and hook up with Highway Thirty-two just south of Kalispell.”

“Roger that.” Ian picked up speed to stay on the tail of the other vehicles.

“We’re driving too fast,” Savannah said. “It isn’t safe.”

“It’s less safe to let the cops catch up,” he told her.

They turned onto the forest service road, and the four-wheel drives lumbered up the rough terrain. Private homes disappeared, replaced by scattered government admin outposts, campgrounds, and tourist information booths. All closed until summer returned.

Savannah pressed her hand to the dash to steady herself. She stared out at the mountains looming on either side of them as they approached a narrow pass. “This area is a bad avalanche zone. With the heavy snow we’ve had this last week—”

“Sam,” Ian said into the mic. “Can you pull up avalanche risk information?”

“On it.”

The trio of vehicles rumbled over a particularly rough stretch of road.

“Oh my God,” Savannah said, her voice humming with fear and tension. “We could get stuck. Are you sure this is plowed all the way through? I’ve never been this way in the winter.”

“It’s plowed,” he assured her, “just not as often as the main roads. We’ll be fine. Try not to worry. Sam will keep us on the right roads.”

“Bumpy, right?” Sam said to Jamison as he climbed into the back seat. “Think of it as a roller coaster.” He put his arm around the kid and snugged him against his body. “There. Better?”

“What’s he doing?” Savannah said. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s just making the ride more comfortable for Jamison.”

“Ian…” The tension in Savannah’s voice drew his gaze from the road. She was looking out the back window. “There’s someone behind us.”

His gaze cut to the rearview, where a white SUV thundered up behind them. “What the… Sam. Unidentified behind us. Did you miss a cop?”

“Dude,” he said, his tone offended. “I’ll let that pass, what with you being all hung up on a chick and all. There’s no cop behind you.”

“Then who the fuck is crawling up my ass?” A distinct plunk-plunk sounded against the tailgate.

Savannah chirped a squeal.

A surge of adrenaline heated Ian’s veins. “They’re shooting. Long gun. Probably a hunting rifle.”

“Must be from Lyle’s band of dimwits,” Sam said. “And they must have radios, because two cops just changed directions, heading toward us.”

Taking hold of the steering wheel with a steel grip, Ian reached behind the seat and grappled in the equipment there. He dragged out the first Kevlar vest he felt and tossed it into Savannah’s lap. She wouldn’t need it inside the car, but at these speeds, there was no telling what could happen.

“Put it on,” he told her. “Now.”

She dropped the vest over her head without argument and tightened the Velcro side straps.

“We’ve got a short straightaway up ahead,” Sam said, “a small meadow area between mountains.”

Ian split his attention between the road ahead and the car behind. When the other SUV bounced, veering right, he caught sight of another truck behind him. “There are two assholes on our bumper. Repeat, two vehicles.”

“Copy,” Roman came back. “When we reach the straightaway, Ian and I will spin and open fire. Shaw and Slaughter, you keep going.”

That wouldn’t go over well with Savannah, but it was the right thing to do. “Copy.”

Plunk-plunk, pink-pink. Another couple of double taps hit the SUV.

“Did that hit the back window?” Savannah asked, confused and shocked.

“You do know a thing or two about shooting.”

“Why didn’t it shatter?”

“Bulletproof,” he said, prepping for the firefight that would erupt in about sixty seconds.

“It’s why we traded vehicles?” she wanted to know. “Is Jamison’s bulletproof too?”

“As soon as we hit the straightaway, we’re going to turn on the guys behind us and open fire. Everly and Sam will keep going. Jamison will be—”

“No,” she said, instantly terrified. “I don’t want to split up. I want to stay with him.”

“We’ll catch up to him. I swear on my life, that boy is as safe as he can be right now.” The opening to the meadow loomed. “Stay down, and hold on.”

She obediently gripped the handle and sank lower in the seat. “I’m so killing you if we make it out of this alive.”

Roman’s car cleared the mountain pass, and Ian started the countdown. “Three.”

Everly’s car cleared the pass. “Two.”

His car cleared the pass. He lowered his window halfway. The icy wind burned his lungs.

“One.”

Ian turned the wheel and hit the brake. While Roman’s vehicle spun to clear the road for Everly to pass, Ian made an abrupt about-face in the middle of the road. His weapon was already pointed out the window when he came to a stop. Roman skidded up behind Ian at an angle, using his vehicle as a shield.

The drivers of the two pursuing SUVs scrambled to avoid a collision. Both came to a stop just inside the mouth of the canyon.

Ian’s mind quieted with intense focus.

More bullets pinged off the SUV. Savannah muffled a squeal.

Ian rested the barrel of the Glock on the edge of his window. The passengers of the SUVs swung their doors wide, using the metal as shields.

A distant rumble saved the shooter of the white SUV from a double tap to the brain. Ian eased back on the trigger, searching for the source of the thunder.

“Hear that?” he asked Roman.

“Affirmative.”

“Cops twenty miles behind you,” Sam cautioned. “More changing direction and headed toward you. Eight miles ahead.”

The rumble grew louder. Ian looked up and found the very top of the mountain shattering at the seams.

“Avalanche!” Savannah yelled. “Ian!”

“Roman, bail,” he yelled into the mic. “Bail.”

“Affirmative.”

Ian and Roman peeled out of the frozen field. With Roman leading the way, Ian floored the gas. The tires spun, then grabbed, and the SUV shot forward.

Savannah turned in her seat, and Ian watched in the rearview as snow pummeled the mountainside, crashed across the road, and swallowed their assailants.

The sight stole Ian’s breath.

“Ho-ly shit,” he muttered, watching in awe as the wrath of nature buried them under more and more snow. “Didn’t see that comin’.”

“Oh my God.” Savannah’s murmur was laced with equal parts shock and terror.

“Mother nature saved us a few bullets,” Roman said.

“You’re going to need them,” Sam cut in. “Because the cops just passed our hideout on the only side road for miles, which means you’re trapped between that avalanche and the cops.”

Jesus Christ. Ian was glad Savannah couldn’t hear this.

His mind darted from the cops to another potential avalanche. They’d already passed from the meadow into another valley flanked by skyscraping mountains.

“Roman?” Ian said. “How do you want to handle this?”

“Handle what?” Savannah asked, still trying to catch her breath.

“I don’t know that we have a lot of choices,” Roman said.

He cut a look at Savannah. “The cops know better than to shoot at us under these conditions, right?”

She shook her head with a simultaneous shrug. “Some do, but…”

“Sam,” Ian said, evaluating options. “Where is the next meadow?”

“Three-point-four miles. It flattens out on the right, near the base of the next campground. But you won’t reach it before the cops reach you. Right about…now.”

A sheriff’s SUV barreled around a bend, headed straight for them.

“Ready for some chicken?” Roman pulled to the right of the road, leaving room for Ian to move up next to him, effectively blocking the entire road.

Savannah was going to have a coronary, but Ian moved into position.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shrill.

“You know how the flight attendants tell you to brace for impact?” He pushed on her back. “Curl up in a ball. Head between your knees. Arms covering your head.”

“Ian—”

“I know, baby. I know. Just do it.”

He met Roman’s gaze over Savannah’s head. His boss gave Ian one approving nod, and they both focused on the cruisers headed toward them, one in front of the other, lights and sirens blazing.

The sting of fear buzzed over Ian’s breastbone. He repositioned his grip on the steering wheel, settled deeper into his seat, and matched Roman’s speed.

The next ten seconds passed like minutes while Ian absorbed every detail in sharp relief. And in that second when someone had to decide to bail on this challenge or risk the very real possibility of death, Ian prayed they came out of this alive so he could tell Savannah he loved her.

Ian pushed out one quick breath a millisecond before the first cop veered right. In the next second, the other cop veered left.

He cut a look at Roman at the same time Roman met his gaze. They were both grinning like idiots. Roman saluted Ian and accelerated. Ian fell in behind him, and he ran his hand over Savannah’s hair. “We’re good. You can sit up.”

But when he looked in the rearview, he found the cops pulling out of the snowdrifts and turning to follow.

Savannah sat up and turned to look out the back.

“Sam,” Ian prodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m trying to learn to breathe again here. Okay, let’s see. You’ve got six more coming at you from the south. No telling how many civilian members of the posse are with them. There are more side roads coming up. Okay, take the third one on the right. It turns into a public road about two miles down and eventually winds you down into a town called Bleak. Jesus, Hazard and Bleak? What’s next? Grim? Harsh? Clusterfuck?”

Punk, punk-punk-punk. Shots dented the body of the SUV.

“Seriously?” Ian said, yelling at the rearview. “Didn’t you learn anything from those other idiots?”

Punk-punk, pink-pink-pink-pink.

Ian swore. Savannah pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, her terrified blue gaze tilted toward the sky. Watching the snow on the mountains, he knew. If he didn’t have to concentrate so hard on his driving, he’d be doing the same thing.

“Hang in there, baby,” he told her. “I’ll get your feet on solid ground soon.”

“Sam,” Roman said. “When we pass you, drop in behind them. And when we reach a clearing, pin them in. We’re going to end this.”

“Roger and ready,” Sam sent back.

Savannah turned her gaze on Ian. “Is Jamison okay?”

“How’s our recruit doing?” Ian asked.

“I think he’s addicted. Having a grand old time. Big eyes, taking it all in. He especially likes it when the car spins around.”

Ian smiled for Savannah. “I think you’ve got a daredevil on your hands.”

She closed her eyes on a groan.

Punk-punk-punk, pink-pink, punk, punk, punk.

“Jesus,” Ian bit out. He knew the car was solid, but those mountains…

Punk-punk-punk. Zing. Pink-pink. Punk, punk, punk.

The deputies had taken a play from the Manhunters’ playbook and now drove side-by-side, shooting at the SUV from both directions.

“Ian.” Savannah’s thin, terrified voice pulled his gaze from the men behind him and followed her finger, pointed at the mountains on their left. “The snow’s shifting. If they don’t stop shooting—”

She pulled in a sharp breath.

Ian saw it. “Avalanche,” he confirmed to the team. “Left side.”

“Shit,” Roman bit out.

“You either have to run it,” Sam said, “or deal with the two behind you and the reinforcements coming in, which will outnumber all of us.”

A millisecond passed while Ian watched the mountain crumble and played out those very real scenarios in his head.

He and Roman seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time and echoed each other with their solution: “Run it.”

Roman sped up, and Ian followed, foot to the floor, hands working to find the finesse required to control a vehicle on snow at this speed. He felt like they were racing a train, hoping to get ahead of it just enough to cross the tracks without being flattened.

Savannah mewled and pressed her forehead to her knees, then yelled, “Everly, you promised.”

“She keeps her promises, baby,” Ian told her. “But you’re not going to need it.”

As if to mock him, bowling-ball-size chunks of ice smashed the windshield. The sheer force of it pushed the car sideways. Coupled with their speed, the car spun out.

The steering wheel was wrenched from his hands. They went up on two wheels. Ian grabbed for the wheel and wrestled it back under control. The SUV dropped back to all four wheels, and Ian floored the gas.

“Punch it, Heller,” Roman yelled. “Punch it.”

In the rearview, a wave of snow swept through the valley. The cops behind Ian vanished, swallowed by the white monster.

“Come on, come on, come on—”

The edge of the avalanche clipped the rear bumper, spinning the car like a top. Savannah screamed. Then the momentum of the snow picked them up like a shell in the surf and toppled them over and over and over.