Samuel
My new cabin is quiet. It sits low against the land, brown wood and stone tucked among the trees as though the forest simply grew around it.
It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s solid with big windows that are angled toward the creek that runs just beyond the back deck.
The water slips over the rocks in a steady, measured rhythm. It’s constant and soothing.
Inside, the place smells new. Not from fresh paint, but like no one’s lived here long enough to leave anything behind.
My boots thud softly against the concrete floor.
The wood beams overhead are dark and give the place a feeling of warmth.
The windows pull the outside in, until the boundary between shelter and wilderness feels thin.
I sit at the small kitchen table with my phone face down in front of me, a half-empty bottle of beer sweating onto the wood. There’s no television or radio. Only the low hum of the refrigerator and the sound of my own breathing.
Distance, I tell myself. That’s what I need to give us right now. Space and time to let things cool off. But all it’s doing is forcing me to think about her.
I keep seeing Raven’s face in the garage. The way she looked at me like she was already losing something and hadn’t agreed to it. The way Knox’s voice cut in before I could fix it.
You’re still on probation, I remind myself, as if those words mean anything when she’s involved.
My phone buzzes.
I flip it over, expecting her name. It’s not.
Mouse: You busy?
Me: Depends.
There’s a long pause before I can see him typing again.
Mouse: Meet me behind the old quarry. Ten minutes. Come alone, and don’t bring your bike.
I’m on my feet with my keys in hand before I think. Every instinct is screaming. Mouse wouldn’t text like that, especially right now, unless there’s a serious problem.
The road stretches dark and empty ahead of me, trees crowding close on either side. I keep my speed just under reckless. By the time I pull onto the gravel road leading to the quarry, my pulse is hammering.
Mouse is waiting near the back door with a cigarette burning down between his fingers. He flicks it away when he sees me.
“They’re moving,” he says without preamble. “Word is they’re not coming for the club directly.”
Cold spreads through my chest.
“How solid’s the intel?”
Mouse meets my eyes. “Solid enough that I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t.”
“When?” I demand.
“Tonight,” he says. “They know where he lives. But more importantly, they know who lives with him.”
Raven.
Her name doesn’t leave my mouth. It detonates in my chest instead. Mouse watches it happen. He’s known me too long not to recognize the shift.
“Ridgeback plays dirty,” he says. “They’re not going after Knox directly.”
My jaw tightens. “She’s not part of this.”
Mouse lets out a slow breath. “They don’t care.”
A sharp, vicious calm settles over me.
“They’re watching the house?” I ask.
Mouse shakes his head.
“Does Knox have our guys on patrol?”
“He didn’t think it was necessary. Figured bringing attention to it would make things worse.”
Fuck. I drag a hand down my face, breathing through the surge of panic and rage clawing up my spine.
“He thinks pride is gonna protect him,” I mutter.
Mouse doesn’t argue. “They know she lives there. They know she comes and goes. And they know Knox won’t see it coming.”
My fists clench hard enough that my knuckles burn.
“If they touch her,” I say quietly, “there won’t be enough ground in Ashbourne to bury what’s left of them.”
“I came to you first for a reason.” His gaze never leaves mine. “You tell me where we go from here.”
“If I warn him, he'll lock the house down. She gets stuck there. And if Ridgeback's already close, that makes her a sitting target.”
Mouse’s expression darkens. “So, what’s the move?”
“I have to get her out of the way. Now,” I say. “Without telling her why.”
“And probation?” he asks. “If Knox finds out you went behind his back again…”
I meet Mouse’s eyes. “I’d rather he hate me than bury her.”
Silence stretches between us.
Then Mouse nods once. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to get Raven,” I continue. “Get her out of that house without setting off alarms.”
Mouse’s jaw tightens. “And take her where?”
“My cabin,” I say.
He frowns. “What cabin?”
“The one I just moved into,” I answer. “It’s on the edge of town. It’s remote and safe.”
Mouse’s eyes sharpen. “No one else’s been there?”
“No,” I say. “No one knows it’s mine yet.”
Mouse nods slowly. “She won’t like it.”
“She doesn’t need to. She just needs to be alive.”
“And Knox?” he asks.
“I’ll handle him,” I say. “I’ll draw Ridgeback away from the house. Keep them focused on me.”
“You’re planning on standing in the middle.”
“That’s always been the job.”
“You’ll need backup,” Mouse says.
“Bishop,” I say immediately. “And Diesel. They don’t talk unless they have to.”
Mouse nods again. “I’ll get them.”
“And Mouse?” I add.
He looks at me.
“If she asks,” I pause. “Don’t tell her what’s coming.”
Mouse’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile. “You know she’s going to figure it out anyway.”
“I know. But it’ll buy me time,” I say as I turn toward my truck.
Mouse calls after me, “You do this, and there’s no pretending you’re just the VP who fucked up.”
I pause, hand on the door.
“I stopped pretending a long time ago,” I say.
Then I’m moving.
Because distance won’t save her, and if Ridgeback thinks she’s leverage, they’re about to learn what a mistake that is.