Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance novel Chapter 1513

Dean was the only doctor for miles, the one everyone in the nearby villages turned to when trouble struck. If you needed help, you found Dean.

“Got it,” came the reply.

People set off right away, asking anyone they passed for directions to Dean’s place.

Dean tore through the hills, sweat soaking through his shirt as he ran. When he finally got home, he spotted Maja outside, folding her laundry under the fading sunlight. “We need to leave. Now.”

Maja stopped in her tracks, startled by the urgency in his voice. “What’s going on?”

She rushed over, concern creasing her brow, hand reaching out as if to steady him.

“They’ve found you,” Dean said, jaw tight. “Whoever’s after you—they’re on your trail.”

He moved on autopilot, heading inside and yanking open drawers, rummaging around for supplies.

Outside, Maja stood frozen, a chill creeping over her. She thought she knew what cold felt like—turns out, she was wrong.

She took a long, shaky breath, pulled herself together, and stepped into the house.

Dean was already stuffing her things together—a pistol, a wad of cash, a few bottles of pills—thrusting them toward her in one frantic motion. “There’s no time. Take these. The money’s for the road. The medicine—there’s all sorts of nasty stuff in these woods. Be careful.”

Then something else hit him. He darted back to the drawer, grabbed a fistful of thick, odd-sized bullets, and shoved them at her. “Wild boar rounds. Not for your gun, but take them anyway. You never know.”

He was out of ideas—he just wanted her gone, and safe.

Maja looked at him. “If I go, they’ll come after you.”

“They won’t. I’ll be fine.”

Their eyes met, and for a second, Maja was all ice again, just like when they first met—expression blank, completely unreadable.

“I know these hills,” Dean said quietly. “If I get to the trees, they’ll never catch me.”

His hands shook as he nudged her toward the door.

Maja hesitated, something softer flickering in her cool stare.

Dean said nothing. Suddenly, the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against his forehead. “I’ll ask again—where’s Maja?”

Meanwhile, Maja was moving fast down the narrow path. A few people recognized her and called out, but she ignored them, frowning. Too many people here knew her face.

She slipped off the main road, ducking onto a trail that wound into the hills.

The forest was growing dark, colors fading into deep shadow.

She pushed through the brush, branches catching at her clothes. A snake slid past her boot, but she didn’t even flinch—fear would only slow her down.

Her breath came fast and ragged, twigs snapping under her feet.

She had no idea how long she’d been walking. Sweat dripped down her back. When she finally looked up, the sky was pitch-black.

She couldn’t keep going—she’d get lost in these woods if she tried.

So Maja listened for the river, letting the sound of rushing water guide her deeper into the night.