Page 6 of Ranger’s Justice (Lone Star Wolf Rangers #1)

CHAPTER 5

RUSH

C assidy’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.

“Get down,” I bark.

To my surprise, she listens, ducking low, her body curled tight as I slam the gas and take the next turn so hard the back tires skid.

More headlights appear behind us. Three vehicles. Maybe four. They’re flanking us, closing in.

I bare my teeth, the wolf in me raging. “You strapped?” I demand.

Cassidy peeks over the dashboard. “Are you asking me if I have a gun?”

“Do you?”

“Not on me.”

Damn it. I reach under the dash, grab the Glock from its mount, and shove it into her hands.

She blinks. “Seriously?”

I cut her a glare. “Use it if I tell you to.”

She hesitates for a half-second. Then nods. Good girl. The SUV lunges forward, the cartel closing in fast.

I know these streets—know the back roads. But so do they. The cartel is using their vehicles to herd us, trying to force me into a dead-end.

Not happening.

I push the truck harder, darting between cars, sliding onto an access road that runs under the interstate. The first vehicle follows hard, nearly clipping my bumper. The second pulls to the side, flanking me.

Where’s the third? My instincts roar a warning, but too late.

The third vehicle rams us from the side, sending the truck teetering onto two wheels.

Cassidy yelps, her fingers tightening around the gun I gave her. I grip the wheel, fighting for control.

Another hit, harder this time. Shit. They’re trying to flip us.

Not happening.

I jerk the truck hard, sending us into a controlled skid, slamming the back end into the sedan that just hit us.

The crunch of metal is satisfying. The cartel car spins out, tires screeching as it slams into a concrete divider.

One down; two to go.

Cassidy’s breathing is fast, her eyes wide. I don’t have time to tell her she’s doing good, because the second SUV is already trying to take its place.

I scan ahead. There’s an underpass coming up. A sharp turn. A way out. I push the truck to its limits, taking the turn tight, forcing the pursuing vehicle to do the same…

But the cartel’s vehicle can’t handle it. Their car clips the curb, losing traction, spinning into the median.

Two down. One left.

Cassidy lifts the gun. “Tell me when.”

I glance at her, my chest tightening at the fury in her eyes.

The determination. Damn it. She could handle a life with me. She’s too perfect for this. Too perfect for me. Another gunshot shatters the rear window.

Cassidy ducks, gritting her teeth. “Rush…”

I already know. I whip the truck around, cutting through the side lot of an abandoned gas station, losing them in the maze of narrow alleyways and service roads.

They try to follow. They fail.

After another three turns, I know—for now, we’re in the clear.

I keep driving. Neither of us speak.

The highway stretches ahead, black asphalt cutting through the vast nothing of the Texas desert. The city lights disappeared behind us over an hour ago, swallowed by miles of scrub and sand.

I tun onto a back road leading eventually to the new safe house, my grip still locked on the wheel, my heart a steady, punishing beat.

Cassidy lets out a breath, still gripping the gun. I glance at her. She meets my gaze.

And I know this isn’t over.

The last cartel tail lost us miles ago, but I don’t slow down. Not yet. Not until I get Cassidy as far from civilization as possible.

She doesn’t fight me on it. Doesn’t argue, doesn’t push—at least not right now. She sits in the passenger seat, silent, gripping the gun I gave her like she actually intends to use it.

Good.

She’s going to need it.

This is where I need to be. Somewhere open, somewhere isolated. Somewhere I can do what needs to be done.

Cassidy moves beside me, uneasy. I can feel it—the way her body tenses, the way she finally breaks the silence.

“Are you going to tell me where the hell we’re going?” she asks in a calm voice.

I grip the wheel, voice steady. “Somewhere safe.”

She snorts. “Yeah, because being in the middle of the desert is real comforting.”

I don’t answer.

Because comfort isn’t the goal.

The road curves, leading toward an abandoned stretch of land, an old airstrip the Rangers used in the past. The perfect place for what’s coming. I pull the truck off the road, rolling to a stop near a ridge of jagged rock formations, the kind that could hide a thousand things in their shadows.

Cassidy eyes me warily. “You’re being weird,” she mutters.

I push the door open, stepping out into the cool desert air. The stars overhead burn bright, a stark contrast to the darkness creeping at the edge of my control. The wolf inside me knows what’s coming. Knows what I need to do.

Behind me, Cassidy slams her own door, crossing her arms. “Seriously, Rush? You gonna start brooding now? Because if this is your way of telling me you’re feeling guilty for dragging me out here…”

“I’m not feeling guilty,” I interrupt, my voice sharper than I mean.

I turn to her. She stops short, her breath catching, eyes locking onto mine. She can feel it—the energy swirling around us.

Her instincts are good. Too good. But she still doesn’t understand.

Not yet.

Her gaze flicks to my hands, to the way my fingers curl into fists, the way my stance widens, bracing. Like I’m preparing for a fight. And in a way—I am.

She steps closer, wary. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you.”

She frowns. “Showing me what?”

“Answering your question.”

I glance up, scanning the horizon one last time, ensuring we’re alone. Then I let go. The air stirs. Not with wind, not with movement—but with something deeper. Something primal.

Cassidy takes a step back as the first curl of mist rises from the ground. Not normal mist. Not something that belongs here. It moves too deliberately, wrapping around my feet, licking up my legs like a living thing. Lightning crackles inside it, silent and dangerous, streaks of energy pulsing through the thickening fog.

Cassidy’s mouth parts, her eyes going wide. “What the hell…”

I don’t speak. I just let it happen—let the wolf inside me rush to the surface.

The mist surges, swallowing me whole, hiding what should never be seen by human eyes.

Cassidy stumbles back, her hands clutching the gun, but she doesn’t run. Doesn’t scream. She just watches, fascinated.

And when the mist finally clears… She sees me. Not as a man. Not as a Ranger. But as what I truly am.

A wolf.

Massive. Dark. More than anything that should exist in this world.

I pad forward, my claws sinking into the sand, my breath a steady, controlled force.

Cassidy doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away.

And in the desert's silence, with nothing but the wind and the sound of her uneven breathing, she finally understands.

That’s the first thing I register as my wolf prowls forward, his muscles coiled, ready.

She could run, probably should. She ought to be screaming, backing away, begging for reality to go back to what she understands. But Cassidy Marlow isn’t most people. Her feet are planted firmly in the dirt; she’s frozen, her green eyes wide, her chest rising and falling too fast.

She’s stunned, sure—but not broken. Not yet.

I stop just short of her, letting her take me in. Letting her see what I really am. Her fingers twitch around the gun I gave her, but she doesn’t raise it. Doesn’t fire.

Smart girl.

Then she does something that catches me completely off guard.

She whispers, “What the hell are you?”

Before I can answer, before I can shift back and give her something close to an explanation—a gunshot shatters the night.

Cassidy gasps, ducking instinctively, but my wolf is already in motion.

They’ve found us. The cartel never gives up, never stops hunting once they’ve locked on to a target. And now, they’re here.

To kill her.

Not happening.

I lunge forward, covering the ground between us in what seems like the blink of an eye, grabbing Cassidy’s jacket in my teeth and throwing her back behind the truck.

She yelps as she hits the ground, but it’s better than getting shot.

Another gunshot rings out, whizzing past me—too close—and I snap my head toward the ridge just in time to see three cartel men emerge from the darkness. Guns drawn. Faces set in cold fury.

They weren’t expecting this. They weren’t expecting me. A wolf this size? The purebreds of our kind are not nearly this large, fast, strong or intelligent. They don’t understand what they’re looking at. But they’re about to learn.

I snarl, a deep, guttural sound that rips through the air, echoing off the desert rock. One man hesitates. The smart one.

The other two? They make the mistake of raising their guns. I charge.

The first cartel soldier doesn’t even have time to fire before I hit him at full speed, my teeth sinking deep into his arm. He screams, the gun falling from his fingers, and I twist, throwing him into the dirt with a sickening crunch.

The second man opens fire. The bullet grazes my shoulder, but the pain is nothing, a distant thing compared to the fury roaring through me. I spin, leaping over the truck’s hood, and before he can get another shot off, my claws rake across his chest.

Blood sprays. He collapses, gasping.

I don’t stop. Because the third man—the smart one—is running. Not for long. I chase him, my muscles coiling and releasing, my wolf hunting as it was meant to. He doesn’t make it ten feet before I tackle him to the ground.

I bare my fangs, sinking them deep into his throat before he can even draw another breath. His sob turns into a gurgled choke, his body convulsing as his life spills onto the dirt. His hands twitch once, then go still.

He’s done. Finished. My wolf is satisfied—I delivered justice in the only way such men understand.

But Cassidy’s voice cuts through the haze. “Rush.”

It’s soft. Shaky. But human. And just like that—I remember myself.

I back off, stepping away, my chest heaving as I let the wolf recede. The mist creeps up again, swirling around my body, lightning sparking through it. And when it clears, I’m human again.

And completely naked.

Cassidy is staring at me, her mouth slightly open, her face pale and stunned beyond reason.

I rake a hand through my hair, stretching out my muscles like nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then I glance at her, completely unbothered, and say, “You really should have listened to me.”

Cassidy makes a strangled noise, somewhere between a curse and a gasp, her gaze flicking down to my fully engorged cock for half a second before snapping back up.

I grin. Her face goes scarlet.

Finally, she jerks her head away, throwing up a hand. “Jesus, Rush! Clothes! Now!”

I chuckle, striding toward the truck where I keep an extra set of gear in the backseat. As I pull on my jeans, I watch her from the corner of my eye. She’s still rattled, still processing everything she just saw—everything I just became.

And I know this is only the beginning.