10. Cut Off
10
Cut Off
T he road hums beneath me as I follow her, keeping my distance. The engine of her bike growls ahead, a sound I know as well as my own heartbeat. She’s moving fast, but so am I, staying just far enough back to stay invisible. When she veers off toward the festival, I slow down and pull over a few blocks away. I can’t risk being seen now, not when the stakes are this high.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I kill the engine and pull off my helmet. The name flashing on the screen sends a cold wave through my chest. Marklov.
“What?” I answer, my voice sharp and impatient.
“I’m done with you,” he says, his tone flat and final. “This deal? It’s over. You’re on your own now. I warned you. You should have listened. Now, the one you love most will suffer because of you.”
The line goes dead before I can even respond. My chest tightens as the implications hit me like a brick wall. If Marklov’s cutting ties, that means he’s sending someone in. Whatever happens next, I have to be ready. And if he’s walking away from me, he could already have his sights set on something—or someone—else.
A cold knot twists in my stomach. My family.
I don’t waste time. I dial my brother Raph first. He picks up after the second ring. His voice is groggy but alert enough to hear the tension in mine.
“Double security,” I say without preamble. “I don’t care what it takes, just do it. If anything feels even slightly off, call me immediately.”
“What’s going on?” he asks, his tone shifting to concern.
“I’ll explain later. Just trust me.”
He agrees, and I hang up, my fingers still gripping the phone tightly.
I write out a text letting Raph know where I am, and shit might go down. I sit there for a moment, staring at the crowd gathering in the distance, the glow of lights and the hum of music carrying through the air. Tormenta’s already somewhere in there waiting for me.
But now, the stakes feel even higher. This isn’t just about her anymore. It’s about the lines I’m crossing and the lives I’m risking. I don’t know what I will fucking do if shit goes sideways. It will be my fault because I can’t just back down and leave it behind. I am putting all I love on the line for a woman I don’t even know. Does that make me crazy? Yes. Does that also make me fucking stupid? Double yes.
I take a deep breath, slide my phone back into my pocket, and fix my helmet back on. If Marklov thinks he can shake me, he’s wrong. I’ve got too much riding on this. The line between walking away and giving this a chance is strong. Unbreakable either way, someone is going to get hurt.
A collision is imminent, and the aftermath will be nothing short of chaos. Tormenta sends me a text, sharing her location with a temporary pin. I glance at my phone and see the message:
“The festival is alive. Everyone is dressed for the occasion. Find me here by the horse trailers and make sure you’re not being followed.”
The festival grounds are a chaotic blend of lights and sounds, a perfect cover for whatever Tormenta has planned. People move in waves, their laughter and chatter blending into a single, overwhelming noise. The scent of food and the distant sound of music create an almost surreal atmosphere.
I’d think this chick was completely nuts if I were anyone else. “Make sure you’re not being followed.” Those words alone scream danger. Yet, I often ignore red lights, passing through them with a blind eye. The horse trailers are at the far end of the festival, secluded enough to avoid prying eyes but close enough to the main event to blend in.
As I weave through the rows of cars, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every shadow seems to stretch a little too long, and every face in the crowd is a potential threat. The festival’s joy contrasts sharply with the tension building inside me. My heart races as I get closer to the trailers, the sounds of the festival fading into the background.
Finally, I see her. Tormenta stands by the trailers, her figure partially obscured by the shadows. Her eyes scan the area, and her back is to me. There’s a brief moment of hesitation, and I am at the point of no return now. I silence my steps, scanning each area as I approach her. She jumps at the sound of my voice, cursing at me.
She nods, signaling that I will come closer after she relaxes. The air between us is thick with unspoken words and the promise of chaos to come. I feel it deep in my bones. She is even more beautiful in person. I see pain and concern etched all over her body. A light scar splits her upper lip and is almost invisible when she cracks a smile. Her hair is put up in a ponytail that is high and tight, most likely similar to her military days. Her body has curves I could trail along for hours and get lost in.
She shakes off her concern, and we talk about what to do now that we are here. I get lost in the sound of her voice. It’s angelic-like. I look at her, and the world around her blurs, and my focus is on every detail of hers. Her demeanor is strong and confident, but I have a feeling it is just a shell she is using to cover up what is really going on in her world. Actually, as a matter of fact, I know that she is using it to cover up.
“Hello? Earth to…Ghost?”
I snap out of my daze quickly. “Oh, yes. Sorry.”
After a bit more of small talk, we settled on heading into the corn maze and having ourselves a bit of fun. This would be a perfect opportunity to get her the hell out of here. I know that piece of shit Marklov is here, waiting and preying around for her. I don’t need him getting his hands on my Little Killer.