Page 7 of Hard Rain

Sounded alright to him. He let the silence settle after that. Nothing useful to say to a man gutting his own life apart.

“What’s the job?” Axel asked, scrolling absently through his phone before tossing it into the cup holder.

“Bobby Montane cut his ankle monitor off sometime last night,” Whip said. “Skipped his hearing this morning and disappeared.”

“Parole violation. Yay. Location?” Axel sounded anything but pleased.

“Halfway to Bend and nowhere near anything useful.” Whip kept the Jeep moving south.

“My bed’s too short.”

Whip nodded, smirking. Not long ago, Axel hadn’t planned on living with him at all.

“Then buy a new one.”

“Maybe I will.”

He hoped he did.

“Scroll through the warrant info,” Whip said.

Axel cracked his neck. “On it.”

Whip didn’t need to look over to know exactly what sat in his passenger seat. Six foot four. Two hundred and forty-five pounds of muscle and bad decisions. Hands the size of hams. Curled black hair that never stayed neat for long. Blue eyes the color of an Oregon summer sky at daybreak.

Crap. Get a grip.

Whip adjusted his hands on the wheel, already knowing the way. He’d grown up out here half wild before the military ever got hold of him.

Beside him, Axel scrolled through the case file on his phone beneath the dim dashboard glow.

“Bobby Montane got caught last spring with three stolen rifles in the back of his truck and enough meth to keep half of Paisley awake for a week,” Axel muttered.

Whip snorted softly. “Sounds like Bobby.”

Hell of a way to live.

“Judge slapped an ankle monitor on him after the resisting arrest charge.” Axel kept scrolling. “Then the idiot cut it off three days ago.”

The radio had crackled steadily since they’d left Fern—dispatch updates, county chatter, deputies calling locations across rain-slick highways and old logging roads.

Then—

“Unit Three, you copy?”

“Go ahead, Dana,” Axel said, lifting the mic.

“Axel.” You could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Deputy on scene says the suspect’s vehicle is parked out at his cousin’s place.”

“What’d he do, stop for a family reunion?” Axel snorted.

She laughed softly through the radio. “You boys be safe out there. Bobby’s meaner than a snake.”

“I eat rattlers for dinner,” Axel assured her.

Whip smirked. That sounded more like his Axel.

Her laughter crackled through the speakers before dispatch traffic swallowed the line again.