Page 13 of Risky Passion (Wolf Security #5)

Tory

As the hand-sized tarantula crept slowly up my shoulder, its eight hairy legs brushed far too close to my throat.

I pressed my back harder against the rough tree bark, barely daring to breathe.

Just beyond my hiding spot, four armed men stalked silently through the dense undergrowth.

My pulse hammered as my gaze flicked between the spider inches from my neck and the killers hunting me.

A faint disturbance moved across the murky surface of the swamp. My breath caught as the ripples grew into a shadow darker than the water itself, gliding silently toward the armed men.

The swamp exploded as a monstrous crocodile launched upward in a surge of water.

Massive jaws snapped around the lead man's leg.

His thong flew off as the violent crunch of snapping bone filled the air, brutal and sickening.

He crashed face-first into the mud, shrieking wildly and clawing at the earth as the beast dragged him backward.

Blood pumped from his mangled leg, painting the swampy ground beneath him ghastly red.

The other men shouted in voices raw with panic as they surged forward, firing bursts of gunfire at the crocodile. The bullets were useless, thudding against the crocodile’s hide with hollow futility. Sixty million years of evolution had turned that beast into a living tank .

The monstrous reptile thrashed harder, its massive tail whipping the muddy water into a frenzied spray.

The fucking tarantula on my shoulder lifted one of its legs as if daring me to move. My lungs felt heavy, like they were filled with mud, and as I fought blind panic, every muscle locked in raw terror.

If that spider gets any closer, I’ll scream. God help me, I’ll fucking scream.

As the man was wrenched sideways with terrifying force, mud and water erupted in violent sprays, churning up the swampy water.

The crocodile rolled its massive body, twisting into the infamous death spiral with the man still helplessly locked in its jaws, showcasing a savage display of brutal, primal dominance.

His screams broke into wet, gurgling cries, his lungs filling with liquid as the beast’s relentless motion shredded flesh and pulverized bone like it was nothing more than Styrofoam.

One of the other men lunged forward, and with desperation blazing in his eyes, he grabbed the victim’s arm with both hands.

Planting his heels into the mud, he released a guttural, demonic roar as he strained with everything he had to save his mate.

A tug of war against fifteen feet of prehistoric muscle wasn’t just madness, it was a death sentence. That beast wasn’t letting go.

Crocodiles never let go.

The victim’s body jerked violently as the crocodile dragged him into the water. Gunfire rattled through the swamp, frantic and useless as the others kept firing. A blood-curdling scream tore through the chao and it was raw it seemed to slice straight into my bones.

I shuddered as my stomach twisted in a sickening knot of revulsion and dread.

The spider darted up my neck, its hairy legs tickling my skin.

“Fuck!” A strangled cry burst from my lips as panic took hold. Screaming, I ripped the spider off my neck and hurled it away. I was still shrieking as it hit the mud and scurried into the shadows.

One of the men whirled toward me.

His eyes widened, wild with realization .

" Ang piloto. Pilot! " he shouted. His words sliced through the chaos like a blade. " Nandyan siya ."

Terror gripped me, raw and unrelenting as I pushed off the tree and bolted.

My legs felt like lead, and as every muscle burned, adrenaline kept me moving.

My shoe thudded against the mud with every step, while my bare foot slapped wetly and every jagged root or stone I couldn’t avoid jabbed my instep.

The man’s screams echoed behind me like a haunting nightmare and added to the shrill cries of birds darting from the trees.

The undergrowth was relentless, branches snatched at my arms and face like skeletal hands trying to grab me. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Behind me, bullets cracked through the dense foliage, ringing in my ears, and I darted from side to side like a drunken lunatic.

I glanced over my shoulder, and my blood ran cold. Two men were chasing me. Fury and determination twisted their faces. They crashed through the bushes like predators on the hunt.

My bare foot caught on a hidden root. I stumbled, barely managing to catch myself before I hit the ground. My hands scraped against the rough bark of a tree as I pushed off, propelling myself forward with everything I had left.

The men shouted words I couldn’t understand, and panic surged through me like a tidal wave.

A bullet slammed into a tree just inches away, and I screamed as splintering bark stung my cheek.

I darted away, my chest heaving, and every breath was a jagged knife slicing through my ribs.

My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst.

I couldn’t hear the crocodile victim’s screams anymore. Maybe he was dead. Or maybe I was too far away. Hopefully both. Pain throbbed in my dislocated finger, and each time it brushed against something, fresh waves of nausea rolled through me.

The swamp stretched on forever, a suffocating maze of gnarled trees and black water that seemed intent on swallowing me whole.

My legs burned, every muscle screaming for mercy, but I clenched my jaw and pushed harder.

I couldn't stop. Stopping meant death. And I wasn't ready to die, not here, not like this.

The air was a choking, humid blanket, thick with the stench of rot and brackish water.

Sweat poured down my forehead and temples, and under my arms and boobs, mixing with the grime smeared across my skin.

Every step was a war as the mud sucked greedily at my remaining shoe, threatening to rip it off, while slippery roots and tangled vines were determined to trip me. Sheer survival instinct kept me going.

Behind me, the gunfire was relentless, sharp cracks tearing through the air.

A shout sounded right behind me.

Fuck. They’re closing in.

My heart jackhammered against my ribs, and a surge of panic flooded me.

Keep going. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.

Mud clung to my shoe and bare foot, dragging at me, slowing me down. My breaths came in desperate gasps, shallow and ragged, and fear clawed at my chest like an eel was inside me.

A thought crept into my mind, dark and insidious: They’re going to catch me.

And when they do, they won’t just kill me. They’ll make me suffer.

I clenched my jaw, trying to crush the fear rising in my chest.

No. Don’t think like that. Just keep going.

Ahead, a break in the trees revealed a strip of water shimmering faintly in the dim light. Could I cross it? Would it slow them down? I didn’t have time to think. Without any other choice, I plunged into the water.

The warm swamp was thick with sludge, and the bottom sucked at my feet like quicksand. The sudden resistance knocked me off-balance, and the filthy water surged up to my thighs. Pain shot through my dislocated finger as I tried to catch myself, and the impact sent blazing agony up my arm.

Move. Keep moving.

I clawed forward through the swamp, dragging myself with my good hand, scraping at slick moss for purchase while cradling my mangled finger against my chest. Bullets hissed overhead, slicing through the air and ripping into leaves and branches on the far bank.

The ground beneath me gave way, and the water crept higher, up to my hips, then my waist.

Shit! It’s deeper than I thought .

My pulse hammered in my ears. My breaths were frantic gasps. Every step felt like a losing battle against the swamp, and the muddy water conspired to drag me under.

One of the men’s voices ripped through the air behind me, sharp and furious.

Their footsteps pounded against the mud, too close. Way too fucking close. My heart threatened to explode in my chest.

I have to get out of this creek. I’m a sitting duck here.

The warm, dark water lapped at my waist, and my skin crawled with dread. My mind flashed to the crocodile. The beast’s cold, dead eyes and razor-sharp teeth, and the violent death roll. The memory scraped at my sanity, threatening to paralyze me.

A sob burned in my throat, but I bit down on it hard, clenching my jaw.

I forced my legs to move, but with the next step, the water surged higher, rising to my chest. Panic twisted in my gut.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die!

Another gunshot cracked through the air, but this one was different. Sharper. Precise. Deliberate.

A scream tore through the swamp behind me. I twisted my head just in time to see one of the attackers jerk backward, arms splayed wide as he slammed into the mud with a sickening thud, motionless.

The second man burst through the undergrowth. He squatted beside the fallen body. Another figure emerged behind him, and their voices erupted into shouts of raw rage that told me the man on the ground was not getting back up.

Sheer terror threatened to consume me as I tried to process what the hell had just happened.

Who took that shot? Where did it come from?

A man’s shout filled the air, sharp and venomous as the bastards opened fire again.

Gasping, I ducked lower into the water until it lapped at my neck. The foul sludge clung to my skin like a second layer. Bullets hissed overhead, closer now, splintering through the bushes and tearing into the trees. Each crack of gunfire seemed closer than the last.

A loud bark cut through the chaos, deep, sharp, commanding .

Was that a dog? My breath hitched, and my pulse thundered in my ears as panic and hope warred within me.

What the hell is going on?

With trembling hands, I scrambled toward the bank with my feet slipping and sliding on the muddy bottom. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of the chaos.

Another gunshot blasted through the air, sharp and clean like the first one.

“Tory!”