Chapter Two - FelixAthena
Weather Advisory — Late October Snow Blast
Snow emergencies possible. Travelers should plan for winter conditions. Meteorologists are baffled—stay tuned for the latest updates. Road conditions are expected to deteriorate.
I hit the road later than expected because when I got into my car and double-checked my bags and my glove compartment, I realized I’d forgotten my gun. Phone calls from my mother and my son further held me up, but finally I was leaving my condo to start my vacation.
Over an hour later, my headlights cut through the clouds hanging low over the city as I merged onto the interstate.
The first snowflakes sprinkled the darkness and stuck to the pavement, glistening under the dim glow of the fading streetlights.
I quickly put the bright urban glow in my rearview mirror, while ahead of me was the harsh silence of the road ahead.
I’d given the weather advisory a cursory glance and brushed it off.
Our winter weather peaked in January and February.
Even in the “long winter” of 1880, Kansas saw more bitter cold and fierce winds.
And October blizzards are rare anywhere , so I was safe.
This was just a freak snowfall to cool things off.
Yet, here and there, gusts of wind pushed powder across the lane and slickened the asphalt. I slowed, careful to keep my SUV steady. Black ice lurked beneath fresh snow, so while I still didn’t believe I had anything to worry about.
The farther south, I went, the more the traffic thinned, and the skyline gave way to scattered suburban homes, and then wide-open spaces. The night felt vast, even a little lonely with just me, my headlights, and the steady rhythm of the tires on asphalt.
Whenever I approached small towns, I welcomed their lights and knew I was closing the distance to my cabin. At one point, visibility dropped to yards, and my high beams reflected at me, momentarily blinding me. Cursing, I flicked them to low and gripped my wheel tighter, then smiled.
Ian wouldn’t even think about visiting me, so my week would indeed be peaceful.
The highway shrank to two miserable lanes, bordered by fields where snow piles rose like frozen waves and tree limbs bowed under the icy weight. The cold pressed in deeper, frosting the edges of my windshield and biting at my hands, so I maxed the heat.
Occasionally, a roadside diner flickered its neon sign, a lone beacon in the quiet night. Still, mainly I was alone on my journey, passing under darkened bridges and over creeks barely visible in the moonlight.
The final stretch of my journey was remote with no streetlights and no traffic. When I turned onto my private access road, slick with newly fallen snow, but not a whiteout, I smiled.
Opening my door and stepping out, I noticed a cloud-thickened sky and a quietness that wrapped around me and stole my cares and concerns.
The temperature had dropped dramatically, so I decided to get a fire going before I unloaded my Range Rover.
Unless I brought guests with me, which was rare, I avoided advanced preparation for my visits.
Therefore, the log cabin stood in total darkness until I unlocked the door and flicked on the lights where the switches were located just inside.
Once I closed and locked the door, I set my gun on the dining table and headed to my stockroom, just off the kitchen/dining room combo.
There, I found stores of wood, kindling, and tinder from my summer visit, along with bottled water, canned food, candles, lanterns, batteries, and the countless items I kept here to assure my comfort.
It was the most crowded room in the cabin because I hated clutter.
My first order of business was starting the fires in the living room and the bedroom.
Yawning, I decided to worry about the one in the bathroom later.
Since my cabin wasn’t that big, these two would suffice for now.
Afterwards, I made up my bed, then unlocked the room that had once been the ensuite bathroom.
Now, it was more suited to my particular tastes with a St. Andrews Cross, a spanking bench, and a few other specialized items.
Ally and I would spend Christmas here, where I would familiarize her with everything.
Satisfied, I locked the door again, then left my bedroom and closed the door behind me.
I turned off every light except a low-watt lamp in my living room, then went to the bar and poured myself a bourbon, which probably was a mistake, given my fatigue.
The toastiness of the blazing fire lured me to the couch.
I’d take a fifteen-minute power nap before unloading my SUV.
Coldness seeped underneath my leathers and my second layer of thermal clothing. I could do frigid; it was the snow kicking my ass and having me regret every life choice I’d made to that point.
After Razor handed me a suitcase with instructions to get it to where Roman Mac was holed up, Fendi and I hauled ass to get a few supplies, gas up, and hit the road.
I wasn’t a news person. I found shit out when I found shit out.
Same with the weather. Sirens sounded for tornadoes.
Typically, I stayed away from raging rivers and swollen lakes.
And never did I venture out during heavy snow.
When we got on the road for our hours long drive, Fendi was rushing my ass, thanks to Razor’s tight deadline.
I sincerely believed he would’ve understood if we had to abort until morning once I saw the heavy clouds dotting the night sky.
Fendi told me while I was changing in my office at the Haven, she’d gone to her room and opened the suitcase–against Razor’s orders–and found straps of cash. More than she’d ever seen.
Over the years, I’d been pegged with more than a few nicknames. Stupid wasn’t one of them, and defying Razor was beyond stupid. It was fucking idiotic and suicidal. Once Pandora’s Box blew open, I wanted fucking answers.
Neither Fendi nor I understood what the fuck was going on. Why would Razor, a Royal Bastards president, send so much fucking money to a Bloody Scorpion enforcer?
Especially one as notorious as Roman Mac. I wanted answers because I was determined to find out what the fuck was going on. If Razor was betraying our club, was he acting alone? Not that it mattered, even if it was for Roman.
Beautiful man. Beautiful cock.
Beautiful savage.
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Fendi complained, trudging through the newly fallen snow toward our destination, a remote cabin deep in the forest, roughly seventy miles southwest of Wichita.
Too fucking far from home. I would give almost anything to be in my warm bed in the trailer I shared with my two sisters and our pit bull. I couldn’t shake the feeling of a fucking catastrophe on the horizon.
“We might have to call it and go to a motel until tomorrow,” she continued. “I can’t take much more. My tits are frozen.”
Each word produced a blast of frozen air.
Wanting to preserve my air, I didn’t respond, my body little more than a block of ice.
My gloved fingers gripping the handle of the briefcase, as well as the ones holding my cellphone, would need prying away before I could release it.
I understood Fendi’s discomfort, and as soon as we were safe and warm, I’d talk my ass off.
Still, I couldn’t understand where the fuck Fendi was guiding me.
A fucking frozen no-man’s-land at the end of the goddamn world.
A little way back, we bypassed a restricted road and now skirted the edges of a fence.
She could try to make it back to the parking area.
I would follow that private road and hope a cabin was at the end.
Some rich fuckheads kept acres of land solely for hunting and roughed it while they bagged wild turkeys in the spring and whitetail deer in the fall.
But I was cold, so, at this point, I would welcome even a fucking deer stand. Breaking and entering could be excused in a life and death matter.
“Razor was pretty upset about the whole Bloody Scorpions thing. Taking out an entire chapter of those fuckheads is no small feat.”
I nodded in agreement, although I doubt she noticed. The flashlights on our phones bounced in front of us, and broke through the icy darkness, revealing a white wonderland that would kill us if the snowfall didn’t relent or we didn’t find shelter.
“Still didn’t find out Louisiana or Reese’s location. I would just like to make sure they’re okay after how shit went down.” Fendi fell silent for a heartbeat before talking again. “How much cash do you think we’re transporting?”
I was too cold to give a fuck. She’d opened the suitcase.
She could take a better guess than me. Things were so precarious because of yesterday’s Bloody Scorpion’s attack, leading to Razor tapping me to transport the money to Roman, who’d supposedly provided pivotal assistance to the Royal Bastards.
Bullshit .
Roman hated the Bastards as much as Warrior, Reese, and Louisiana hated the Scorpions. As much as Razor claimed he did.
“Where is this fucking cabin?” Fendi demanded ten minutes later. A fresh round of snow was falling, the temperature was dropping, and the wind was picking up, whistling around us with ominous ferocity. I knew the makings of a blizzard when I saw one. “We’ve been hoofing it for an hour.”
“You tell me,” I puffed out, almost past the point of cold.
“Trust me, babe. We don’t have much longer,”
“We need to find shelter and see what we can do in the morning.” We definitely couldn’t make it back to our bikes. “Let’s see where that access road leads.”
“If we don’t find a lit-up place built of glass and cypress wood soon, we’re turning around. And I saw that road, too. That’s a privately owned cabin back there. We’re looking for a rental.”
“Are you sure?”