My feet pound against the ground as I take off running down the trail. Running toward Quinn's cabin. I can hear Ryder running behind me, swearing the entire time but I ignore him.

It takes longer than I wish to make it back to the cabin, to finally be able to see the flaming mass through the trees but I'm still a good hundred feet away from it.

"Quinn!" I shout as I run. "Qui-" I'm tackled before I continue to call out to her and a hand is thrown over my mouth.

"Considering I'm doubting that she was the one who lit the cabin on fire," Ryder whispers in my ear as he lays on top of me, pinning me to the ground with his hand still over my mouth. "Why don't we not scream and alert whoever else is here to where we are?"

I nod and he removes the hand from my mouth and rolls off me, getting slowly and cautiously to his feet. He pulls his gun from the holster under his arm.

"Stay behind me," He orders.

"Ryder-" I start to protest.

He grabs hold of my arm and turns me toward him. "I'm serious Nicky. Stay behind me."

I want to protest, but seeing as he's the one with the gun, I figure I'll keep my mouth shut this time.

I follow quickly behind him as he moves toward the cabin with his gun drawn. He shoots me a glare when I push impatiently at his back.

When we finally get close enough to the cabin, it's clear that the entire thing is up in flames. Not an inch of it isn't glowing with red or orange flames.

I feel my heart stop in my chest and I suddenly can't breathe as I stare at the burning cabin. At the black smoke filling the air. I stumble toward the cabin, out of the cover of the trees we were staying in.

"Quinn!" I shout frantically, tears beginning to fill my eyes. "Quinn! Quinn!"

I go to take another step forward, ignoring Ryder's shouts of protest and suddenly the ground and trees around me are sprayed up with bullets. I let out a surprised shout and before I can move away I'm yanked back.

Ryder pulls me out of the open and behind a large tree, flinching as bullets pelt themselves into the trunk of the tree he's hiding us behind. He jumps out long enough to fire off a few shots in rapid succession before ducking back behind the tree, standing in front of me.

Vaguely I notice my hands are shaking, that my breathing is ragged, tears in my eyes, and my mind just replaying the burning cabin that I can no longer see. Panic, dread, fear, and despair flooding through me in a clash of emotions as I think of Quinn. As I pray she hasn't become another victim because of me.

"Hey," I hear a voice calling to me. "Hey!" Ryder says more forcefully, his hands gripping into my shoulders roughly and pulling me back into the present.

"Quinn," I whisper.

Ryder shakes his head and puts his hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "There's a time to grieve, but it isn't right now. Okay?" He puts his hand on my cheek and wipes away the tears that had escaped. "Look, we don't even know if they actually got her, okay? For all we know she got away. We'll find out what happened, but right now I need you here. I need you to focus. I need you to forget about Quinn only for right now."

I shake my head. "I can't do that."

"Try," Ryder orders. "I need you to try because we need to get out here right now and in case you didn't notice, they took out the cars too. Which means we've got to run through the forest. I need you to keep up and stay focused right now."

I nod, my hands still shaking and bullets still spraying up the area surrounding us. Ryder ducks out to fire more shots before ducking back in.

"Okay," I whisper. "Okay."

Ryder stares at me for a beat before reloading his gun and gripping it firmly. "Ready?" He asks me. I nod. "Then let's go. Now!"

He pushes me in a direction and I start running. I can hear him behind me, keeping up and occasionally I hear gunshots as he's firing back at them. Bullets whiz by both of us as we run, leaping over fallen logs and rocks, but no matter how hard or fast we continue to run, we don't seem to be losing them.

I don't know how long we're running for before Ryder's grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me to the ground behind a bunch of boulders. He puts his finger to his lips and stays ducked down as he peeks around the boulders. It takes a moment before we hear the footsteps running by, continuing to look for us. Apparently, we were far enough ahead to take a second and hide.

Ryder continues to keep his finger over his lips, letting me know I need to continue to be quiet. His other hand grips his gun in a white-knuckled grip. Slowly, he peers around the boulders and gets to his feet. He gestures for me to follow.

We've barely taken three steps from the boulders before gunshots echo out and fly by us.

Ryder swears and grabs hold of my hand, dragging me after him as we take off running once again.

I swear I've never had this much exercise in my life.

It feels like it takes forever before we finally start to slow to a stop. Before I can no longer hear anyone right behind us. I can still hear shouting in the distance as they look, but for the moment we're safe. Until they come looking our way and find us.

Ryder leans back against the trunk of a tree, resting his head back and closing his eyes. I rest my hands on my head and slowly pace back and forth, taking deep breaths to try and slow my racing heart. To try and be able to breathe properly again.

Ryder lets out a groan and slides down the tree trunk so he's sitting on the floor, wincing as he does so. And I'm thinking that probably hurt and he's going to have some scratches on his back.

I open my mouth to tell him so, only to come up short, because suddenly scratches on his back don't seem to be his biggest concern. Not when the side of his white t-shirt under his jacket is covered with blood.

"Ryder," I say as I move toward him. I kneel down next to him and pull back his jacket, staring at the bloody wound on his side. My hands are shaking as I reach out and lift the edge of his shirt. My mind working overtime to try and think of some solution. Trying to think of something to do but I come up empty. Dealing with injuries is not my forte, anything electrical is.

"It looks worse than it is," He says and then grimaces. "It's just a graze. I'll live."

I gently probe at the still bleeding wound. "If you don't bleed out first," I mutter.

And that's just about the extent of my knowledge of wounds. They need to be cleaned and the bleeding needs to be stopped. Right now, we could worry about cleaning it up later, but the bleeding needs to be stopped or at the very least, slowed down.

Except what do I have to help solve this problem? A whole lot of nothing. That's what.

Ryder pushes my hands away and suddenly tries to get to his feet, almost falling over in the process. He winces and I have to help him before he's once again standing.

"We need to keep moving," He says.

"We need to stop the bleeding," I tell him.

He gives me a flat look and I feel my irritation with him spike before he's even opened his mouth.

"Gingersnap, do you see anything to stop the bleeding with? No. Are carrying fire with you? No. Right now, we need to keep moving, we can stop the bleeding later." He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he talks.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Calling Damien," He says as he puts the phone to his ear. "I'm going to have him meet us somewhere after we get out of this mess. Or after he gets us out, either way."

I wrap my arms around myself, staring at the blood now soaking through his jacket. He sees where I'm looking and he must see the look on my face because he puts his hand under my chin and forces me to look up at him instead.

"I'll be fine," He says firmly. "I promise."

I grimace. "You can't promise that."

"Sure I can. I've got nine lives."

I glare at him, wanting desperately to dispute that but he just flashes me mischievous smile before putting his focus on Damien who's finally answered the phone.

"What the hell took you so damn long?" Ryder grumbles. He listens for a long while before rolling his eyes even though Damien can't see him. "Right now, I've got bigger problems than another case going to hell so you can tell me all about that later. Now listen up . . ."

I stop listening.

My mind's going over everything that happened. Replaying everything in my head. There is no possible way for Volkov to have found us here. No one-and I mean no one-knows about Quinn. There's no connection between me and her. He should not have found us here.

I'm still thinking it all over long after Ryder hangs up and starts pulling me after him, deeper into the forest. He stops for a second shoots me a look of confusion.

"What?" He asks me.

I shake my head, still going over everything. "I didn't say anything."

"You're thinking, I can smell the smoke."

If he wasn't injured because of me, I'd hit him.

I glare at him instead and shake my head. "There's no way Volkow could have found us here. No one knows about Quinn. I just . . ." I shake my head again. "I don't understand how he found us."

Ryder looks thoughtfully at me, a frown on his face as he thinks over what I've said. Next thing I know, he's swearing long and vehemently.

"He's not tracking you," Ryder states as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. "He's tracking me."

I stare at him wide-eyed. "How? You're FBI shouldn't you know how not to be tracked? Why didn't you figure this out sooner? What is wrong with you? My life is in the hands of a moron."

"I'm choosing to ignore that last half of your rant," Ryder replies with a glare. "You said it yourself, Volkov's likely bribed someone at the FBI. It would take nothing for them to track my phone."

Before he even finishes that statement, he's throwing his phone into the nearest rock and then stomping on it like a child throwing a tantrum. If the situation weren't so serious, I'd so be laughing at him right now.

He comes walking back over to me. "We're splitting up," He states.

I blink. I blink again. And then I finally speak. "You're joking, right? The blood loss is making you delusional."

He glares at me. "I'm actually being serious. Likely they're on their way over here right now, so I'm going to give them someone to follow, while you get the hell out of here."

"Well, this feels familiar. Last time we tried this I do believe I ended up getting hit by a car and trapped in a burning building."

Ryder groans and runs a hand down his face. "It's not my fault you have no survival instincts."

I glare at him yet again before shaking my head. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."

"Too bad," He says simply. "You don't have a choice."

Before I can tell him otherwise, he pushes me back and I go rolling down a small incline. I hear his footsteps running away and I grumble a string of curses at him as I stumble to my feet, brushing off the twigs and dirt that's now stuck all over me.

I start to climb back up the incline and I hear it. The shouts. The gunshots. I feel my heart beat faster and panic ices through my veins . . . along with adrenaline.

Yes, I should probably take the opportunity Ryder gave me to save myself and get out of here. Hell, before . . . everything, I would have done exactly that, without any problem. In fact, I'd already done it once.

But this is different. Because I meant what I said. What Ryder didn't understand. So, leaving him to die for me, to die protecting me, wasn't going to happen.

I climb quickly back up before running in the direction of the shooting. Pretty stupid, I'm not going to lie, since I don't have a weapon or really, anything that could be of potential help. My backpack was in Quinn's cabin.

I falter in my steps as that thought comes to mind. My laptop likely became collateral damage to that fire. I feel like beating my fists against something. That laptop had literally all my stuff on it. Not to mention all my personal programs, my coding, my security systems, and pretty much anything else I'd added to it. I had acquired it years ago and paid a lot of money for it, since it was and still is considered prototype. The computer itself is-was worth over forty-thousand dollars.

That bit of information I like to keep to myself.

I continue running through the forest and slow to stop when I hear the gunshots have ceased. I crouch low and walk slowly, not making a sound as I walk over the soft earth. I avoid stepping on twigs and leaves.

"Ryder!" I whisper shout. "Ryder!"

I make it to a small clearing and see him ducked behind a tree on the side opposite to me. I wave to get his attention and suddenly wish I could punch the ungrateful bastard when he shoots me a look that practically spells out just how utterly stupid he believes me to be.

I go to cross the clearing and go to him but he immediately holds his hand up and shakes his head. He then points behind him.

I look to where he's pointing, but I don't see anyone. I look back at him, point to where he was pointing and then shake my head.

He glares at me, motions for me to stay where I'm at and then flips me off.

I glare at him and then return his gesture.

He looks desperately like he wants to shoot me. Like he's wondering why he's put up with me for this long.

I go to take a step toward him anyway and when nothing happens I take another. And another. And another. All the while Ryder's shaking his head and waving his arms to try and get me to stop. I can also see his lips moving and though I can't hear him, I imagine he's demonstrating his extremely colorful vocabulary.

Ryder suddenly moves from his place ducked behind the tree and runs toward me. "I told you to get the hell out of here. How damn deaf are you?" He says as he grabs my arm and starts to pull me forcefully away.

We don't make it very far before bullets are flying by us once again. Except, we're in the middle of a clearing and there's nowhere to go. The clearing is backed up against a mountain. A wall of rocks. We're trapped.

Ryder throws us both to the ground and lies over me, shielding me with his body. The gunshots finally cease and I can hear footsteps advancing toward us.

"Get up!" A gruff voice orders. Not Volkov, thankfully. "Now! Hands where I can see them."

Ryder slowly gets to his feet with his hands up in the air and I follow suit. Ryder deliberately puts himself directly in front of me.

"If you want to live through this," The guy says. "I suggest you move out of the way. We're supposed to bring both of you in, alive, but Volkov said if you had to be killed, then so be it," He tells Ryder.

Ryder doesn't move. Not even when I try to forcefully shove him out of the way. I even try to step around him, but he just cuts me off every time.

"Last chance," The guy says, raising his gun.

"Ryder move," I demand. Ryder still doesn't move. "Ryder please," I whisper, pulling at him.

"Not going to happen," Ryder states. "You're not taking her anywhere."

The guy just smiles and it's totally creepy. "It's not up to you."

His finger tightens around the trigger. There's a gunshot. It's loud and deafening. And it's followed closely by my scream . . . and then his.

He's dropped the gun and is holding on to his forearm which is now sporting a huge hole that's gushing blood. Honestly, I don't understand how his arm is still attached and it's making me sick to look at it. His face is pale and he falls to his knees, swaying as he stares at his arm.

And then Quinn's walking out of the cover of the trees, a hunting rifle in her hands.

She walks up behind him and he's so focused on his arm that he doesn't see her, doesn't hear her until she's right next to him and swinging the butt of the rifle into his head, knocking him out and watching him crumple to the floor. She kicks the gun he'd dropped away from him and the turns toward us.

"What are you waiting for? A written invitation? Let's move," She says as she swings the rifle over her shoulder by the strap attached to it.

Ryder looks at me. "I thought you said she hates violence."

Quinn hears him. "I do," She replies and stares at the crumpled man in sadness. "But I also know when it's necessary."

She picks up a couple of bags from the foliage surrounding the clearing. She tosses me one, it's my backpack. I feel like hugging her.

"Besides," She says as she swings a duffle bag over her free shoulder. "You come on to my property, threaten me and my friends, and burn down my house . . . you best believe I'm going to fight back."

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