Whoever said your life flashes before your eyes before you die—lied. As bullets slammed into the truck and Cross tried ramming into the sedan next to them, all Rowena could think about was her Netflix subscription automatically charging her after she died.

That wasn't true.

She didn't have time to think about anything. All she could do was scream as a series of bells rang through the cabin of the truck. The touchscreen monitor showed an incoming call from Liam. Rowena pressed the button to answer the wireless call.

"We're up ahead but we're making a U-turn!" Liam's voice shouted.

"No! You have Abby in the car with you. Go back to Howler. I'll handle this!" Cross growled as another bullet dug its way into the side of the truck.

Abby cursed in the background and Rowena swore she heard the alpha's sister scream about not being a kid and something about being strong enough to fight.

"How many bullets does this douche-nozzle have?" Rowena cried. "C'mon Cross, slam into him!"

He rolled his eyes. "I can't slam into him without pushing him into oncoming traffic. That'll hurt innocent people." He tried passing the truck again, only to have the sedan ding his front bumper.

"He's not aiming to kill. He's trying to run us off the road," Cross said.

"Maybe they want to kidnap me again?" Rowena gasped.

"Is it Flint?" Matt asked.

"We can't tell. The window is rolled up completely and whoever this is, is wearing a face mask. Maybe we should just let them pass us?" Rowena asked. "But who else could it be? Flint is the only one who seemed to care about Casey's death."

Cross shook his head. "No. There must be two people in that vehicle. They could get a better shot at us if we pass them up."

"We could block traffic," Liam suggested.

"Abby." Cross said his sister's name as if the two-syllable word held a thousand reasons why that was a bad idea.

"We can keep her safe, Cross. We can't let them shoot you." Liam's voice was firm. "Alpha, let us help."

Rowena noticed a break in the oncoming traffic. "Cross, there aren't any cars coming. For the love of all that is covered in caramel and chocolate, please do something!"

His grey eyes snapped to hers before his nostrils flared and he jerked the wheel to one side. Rowena shrieked as the truck veered left, slamming into the sedan. Whoever was driving must not have been expecting the truck's sudden impact because the sedan slid into the next lane. Cross pressed on the gas, once again slamming into the sedan. It drove off the highway and into the wooded area lining the opposite lane. Cross slammed on the brakes and waited.

The doors to the sedan opened and two wolves bolted out and scurried into the woods.

The wail of sirens in the distance told Cross a concerned citizen called the police after watching the sedan shooting at his truck.

"The cops are coming," Liam said.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Rowena asked. "Tell me that's a good thing."

"We handle things on our own. Technically, I'm the mayor of Howler. It's going to look bad if someone is shooting at me. The cops will want to investigate and stick their nose in my town."

The sedan sat empty. Cross turned to her. "Rowena, I need you to do me a favor."

The serious expression on his face caused a frisson of apprehension to run down her spine. The last time someone looked at her like that was Boris Petrov. He was a neighbor who always borrowed salt from her. He gave her the same look Cross was giving her before asking if she'd marry him so he could get a green card. Rowena turned him down flat but she had felt so bad she let him have her Mickey Mouse saltshaker. It came in a set with a Minnie Mouse pepper shaker. Boris had been deported to Russia three weeks later. Her Mickey Mouse saltshaker was probably in Russia. She missed that saltshaker.

"You can't have my Minnie Mouse," Rowena muttered.

Cross frowned. "What?"

"What favor did you need?"

Cross pushed his shoulders back. The sirens were getting closer. He pulled the truck back to the shoulder and turned back to her before turning the truck off. "I need you to pretend you were driving."

"What? I can't do that! I have a history of arrests, Cross."

"I need to find out who was chasing us. I can't do that without raising suspicion. You'll need to distract the cops while I do that in my wolf form. I'm sorry but I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't important."

"You're going to shift?" She was screaming but Cross didn't think she was doing it on purpose.

"Yes, but I need you to pretend you were driving. I'll investigate the sedan. At worst, they'll give you a ticket."

"I can't afford a ticket!"

"I'll pay for it. After the police leave, you need to head back to Howler. It isn't safe for you to go back home."

"It isn't safe for me to be with you either. Or did you miss us getting shot just now? I'm also really surprised your airbags didn't go off while you were trying to drive that car off the road. I read that an impact at over sixteen miles per hour can cause them to deploy. Did you miss a recall or something?"

"We didn't hit them from the front and stop rambling," Cross shrugged. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Fine, whatever."

"Don't let them try to shoot me while I'm in my wolf form."

"Okay."

His eyes narrowed. "I mean it, Rowena. Don't let them shoot me."

"Okay, okay. I won't let them pull an Old Yeller on you and shoot you. Are you going to strip before you shift? That's what happened in all the romance books."

He shook his head. "We were just shot at and you're asking if I'm going to give you a strip show?"

Rowena gave him a scathing look. "No, I asked if you had to undress before you shifted into your wolf form. I didn't ask you to play Magic Mike for me."

"Not all wolves lose their clothing when they shift."

"So, some do?"

Cross nodded. "It's now or never. I'll meet you back at Howler. Be safe, Rowena."

Before she could respond, he opened the door and ran out of the truck. His shift was so fast, that Rowena almost missed it. It was like he jumped in the air and the space around him became blurry before a huge silver wolf took his place. It rushed to the sedan while Rowena scooted to the driver's seat. She was adjusting the seat just as a county sheriff's car pulled up, its red and blue lights flashing.

It parked behind Rowena and a stocky man in his mid-forties opened the door, grunting as he pushed himself out of the brown and white car. He was a deputy sheriff according to the fake gold badge he wore.

He glanced at the sedan and scratched the side of his neck before stomping towards Rowena, adjusting the white cowboy hat on his head, his blue eyes trailing along the bullet holes in the truck.

He gestured for her to roll down the window. She pressed a button and it slowly slid down.

"Oh officer, I'm so glad you're here. It was plumb terrifying!" Rowena said with a thick Georgian accent, channeling her inner Scarlett O'Hara. If that woman could land herself a Rhett Butler, surely, Rowena could get out of trouble with the cops. Who cares if no one used the word plumb as an adjective anymore? She was pretending to fan herself with her hands.

"Keep your hands on the steering wheel. We got a report there was some shooting going on," the deputy said, his eyes drifting to the inside of the truck. "Do you have a weapon on you?"

Another two deputy vehicles were pulling alongside the highway.

Keeping up her damsel in distress charade, Rowena shook her head. "Oh fiddle dee dee, that's absurd. I was not shooting I was shot at. I was driving this truck and a terrifying sedan forced us to the side of the road. Then they started shooting at us." She was still talking like a Southern lady from the 1940s.

"Us?"

She blinked. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed the imaginary foot she shoved in her mouth before slowly turning to her right and then back at the deputy sheriff whose eyes were narrowed.

"You don't see my Nana?"

"You're what?"

"My Nana. My grandmother. She's sitting right here." Rowena pointed to the empty passenger seat.

"Hands on the steering wheel," he repeated, his hand on his gun.

She turned and huffed out a breath. "Nana, say something so the kind officer will notice you."

She turned back to the deputy and smiled. Her eyes tracked the other two deputies. They were walking to the abandoned sedan while two Clarkton police officers and three state troopers pulled up. Were they planning on having a barbecue out here or something? How many cops did they need? Rowena couldn't see the silver wolf any longer, so she had to guess he left her.

Great. Just great. She slumped in her seat, mentally cursing Cross Howler.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need your driver's license and proof of insurance."

"Oh my, it's the funniest thing. I don't have my license on me. You see Nana was in such a rush to get to Clarkton. She wanted to sell her crystal ball at the pawnshop. Well, long story short—she changed her mind. Isn't that just like Nana?" Rowena's shoulders jerked up and down as she pretended to laugh. Why had she even started talking in an accent?

"Are you on any medication, ma'am?"

"Of course not. It's probably the trauma from being shot at." She lifted a shaking hand. "Do you see that? I'm still so frightened. Plumb frightened." Did southern women even use the word plumb?

"I said hands on the steering wheel!"

Rowena slapped her hand back down and gripped the steering wheel so her knuckles were almost white.

The officer looked to his right and raised his chin at an approaching officer before turning back to her. "Why are you talking about plumbs? Have you been drinking?"

"Deputy, I'm telling you I was shot at. I had to scare those villains off the road. I was so frightened my airbags would deploy. I've seen stories of people getting broken noses and black eyes when that happens. My Nana does not need a black eye or broken nose! She's so frail. Look at her!"

"What's your name?" The deputy asked.

Rowena gave a nervous giggle. "Oh deputy, do you really need that? My Nana always said a lady never reveals her name or her age to a stranger."

The deputy did not look amused.

The approaching Clarkton officer hadn't looked at Rowena. "Ran the plates. They belong to a Cross Howler." His voice sounded familiar to Rowena but she refused to look out her window and was pretending to whisper to her Nana.

The deputy scratched his chin. "Isn't he the mayor of Howler?"

"Sure is. He didn't report the vehicle stolen."

The deputy leaned down to stare at her before saying, "I'm going to need you to step out of the vehicle."

"B-but why? I'm the victim here. Can't you just let me leave?" Rowena asked in her regular voice. "You're scaring my Nana."

"What happened to your accent?"

"Would you believe I was possessed by the ghost of Scarlett O'Hara?"

"She's a fictional character." He had his hand on his gun and pulled it out, facing it towards her. "I'm going to need you to get out nice and slowly, ma'am."

"The jig is up," she muttered. "I want a lawyer. I'm pretty sure it's in the constitution that I get a lawyer."

"Constitution?" the Clarkton officer asked. He jerked down and laughed. "Rowena Flores is that you?"

Rowena felt her blood get hot in embarrassment. She knew that voice. It belonged to Donnie Valdez, the ex-husband of her cousin Lorena. The one who Lorena accused of having an affair with a 911 operator before using a special spray on him so he'd get attacked by dogs whenever he took his daily jog.

Donnie was chuckling. "She's always talking about the constitution. I don't think she's ever read it."

"Out of the truck, ma'am." The deputy still had his gun aimed at her.

"I know her," Donnie said. "You can put the gun away. She's harmless. I mean, sure she's been arrested a few times because of her anger management issues but—"

"Shut up, Donnie! You're not helping," Rowena hissed. The other officers were now approaching.

"Keep your hands on the steering wheel. The officer here is going to open the door and I want you to keep your hands up and in front of you while you slowly get out," the deputy instructed. Rowena sighed. She knew the drill.

Donnie reached over and slammed his hand on the top of the truck. He was smiling. "I can't wait to call your cousin and tell her what happened."

Before she could warn him Lorena had a voodoo doll in his image so calling her wasn't a good idea, he pulled open the door and a loud pop filled the air. Dust flew in her mouth and up her nostrils and an excruciating pain slammed into her face, knocking her out cold.