Crude Intentions

Chapter 23: The Bluff Cut

Theo didn’t hesitate. He hoisted both heavy canvas duffels containing the million dollars in cash, throwing them into the deep backseat of Charlie’s new truck. The lethal, freezing corporate mask was fully back in place, but beneath it, his muscles were coiled like a spring ready to snap.

"Silas, how many men does Cole have at the crossing?" Theo asked, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that cut right through the humid air of the barn.

"Scanner says three vehicles. Probably four or five of his roughneck field hands," Silas said, leaning against the flatbed. "They’re parked bumper-to-bumper across the concrete bridge. You try to ram 'em with that new truck, Vance, and you’ll just buckle your radiator and leave yourself sitting ducks in the river bottom."

Theo turned to Charlie, his dark eyes flashing with a sudden, volatile heat. He grabbed her by the upper arms, his long fingers digging into her skin, pulling her firmly into his chest. "We don't have time to negotiate a clearing. I’ll drive down there, break the blockade myself, and you keep the money in the cab. If things get ugly, you hit the gas and leave me behind."

Charlie let out a sharp, mocking laugh, looking straight up into his fierce, alpha glare. Her unbothered landman calm didn't even waver.

"Oh, right. The classic city-slicker play," Charlie said, her dry sarcasm cracking like a whip. "You're going to go down there in a plain t-shirt and throw corporate fists at five South Texas roughnecks packing iron? You’ll be unconscious in the weeds, Theo, and Garrett Cole will have this cash before the clock strikes eleven."

Theo’s jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek as he leaned in until his lips were inches from hers. "Then what is the play, Charlie? We have exactly one hour."

"We don't go to the low-water crossing," Charlie said, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. She reached into her work bag, pulling out her county topography maps. "Silas, is the old caliche cut-off down the eastern bluff still passable?"

Silas’s silver mustache twitched in immediate, wicked understanding. "The old cattle plunge? Charlotte, that trail hasn't been used since the '70s. It drops at a forty-five-degree angle straight down the limestone bluff into the dry creek bed. If your brakes fail or your tires slide on the loose caliche, you’ll roll that pretty new truck straight into the San Antonio River."

"My truck has automated hill-descent control, a heavy-duty steel skid plate, and thirty-five-inch mud tires," Charlie said, turning her sharp gaze back to Theo. "And more importantly, Garrett Cole doesn't know it exists. It drops us out into the river bottom a quarter-mile behind his blockade. We can splash right past his blind spot and hit the county road before he even realizes we left the ridge."

Theo stared down at her, the raw, unadulterated admiration in his dark eyes burning hot enough to melt the air between them. He let out a low, rough growl of approval, his hand sliding down from her shoulder to firmly grip the back of her neck, pulling her into a brief, bruisingly intense kiss that left her lips tingling and her head spinning.

"Get in the truck, Landman," Theo murmured against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged. "You navigate, I drive. Let's slide."

At 10:54 AM, the midnight-black truck was idling at the edge of the eastern bluff.

The drop-off was terrifying. The old cattle trail was barely wider than the truck, a treacherous, crumbling path of white caliche rock and loose limestone that disappeared down into a dense, overgrown canopy of river-bottom mesquite trees. Far below, the muddy waters of the San Antonio River gleamed in the harsh morning sun.

Theo gripped the steering wheel, his large hands rock-steady as he shifted the massive V8 engine into four-wheel-drive low. He flicked the console toggles, locking both the front and rear differentials.

"Are you ready for this, Charlie?" Theo asked, not taking his eyes off the precipice.

"Just don't touch the brakes once the weight shifts," Charlie said, her heart hammering a wild, chaotic rhythm against her ribs, though her voice remained perfectly steady. "If you lock the tires, the caliche will turn into marbles, and we’ll slide sideways. Let the low-gear engine compression do the braking."

Theo flicked a glance toward her, a dangerous, thrilling alpha smile cutting through his rugged features. "Trust me, Landman. I know how to handle a descent."

He let his boot off the brake pedal.

The massive truck tipped forward over the edge of the bluff.

Instantly, gravity seized the vehicle. The nose plummeted at a sickening, vertical angle, the seatbelts locking violently against Charlie’s chest as she was thrown forward. Outside the windows, the limestone walls of the bluff scraped loudly against the truck's custom side mirrors, throwing up a blinding cloud of white dust and flying rock.

The rear tires lost traction for a terrifying second, the back end of the truck fishtailing toward the steep ravine.

"Steer into the slide, Theo!" Charlie shouted, her fingers digging deep into the leather of the center console.

Theo didn't panic. He kept his foot completely off the brakes, his large forearms flexing, veins standing out against his skin as he brutally wrestled the steering wheel to the left. The massive off-road tires clawed at the crumbling rock, the engine whining in protest as the low-gear compression dragged the heavy truck down the vertical incline.

With a final, bone-jarring THUD, the front skid plate slammed into the soft, muddy dirt of the dry creek bed at the bottom of the bluff. The heavy-duty suspension bottomed out, absorbing the massive impact before bouncing back up.

They were down.

Theo didn't waste a breath. He slammed the accelerator, and the V8 engine roared to life, spraying thick, black river-bottom mud fifty feet into the air as the truck barreled through the dense brush of the river valley.

They burst out of the tree line directly into the shallow, gravel-lined river bottom. A quarter-mile downriver, Charlie could clearly see the rear of Apex’s welding trucks parked flat across the concrete low-water crossing. Two of Garrett’s roughnecks were leaning against a tailgate, smoking cigarettes, completely oblivious to the monster truck that had just dropped out of the sky behind them.

"Hold on!" Theo roared, a wild, victorious laugh escaping his chest.

He didn't slow down. The truck slammed into the shallow river water at sixty miles an hour, throwing up a massive, blinding wall of white spray that completely engulfed the windshield. The heavy vehicle roared right past the blockade’s blind spot, splashing up onto the muddy western bank and tearing onto the open pavement of the county road.

Through the rearview mirror, Charlie watched the two Apex roughnecks drop their cigarettes in absolute shock, scrambling toward their cabs as the black truck disappeared over the crest of the hill in a cloud of dust and river water.

The dashboard clock flipped to 11:08 AM.

They had exactly fifty-two minutes left, a million dollars in cash in the backseat, and a straight, unobstructed shot to Ms. Mae’s front porch.