Peak #4
Maeve’s eyes moved toward him. “I don’t know.
” The answer bothered him, not because she lacked a plan, but because some part of him had already pictured her at his house.
He could see her working beside him in the unused library, arguing with him in the kitchen, and standing barefoot on the back porch while the sun rose over the water.
He had known her for two days. He was losing his damn mind, but he didn’t care.
“Come to my house,” he said.
Maeve blinked. “What?”
“Come stay with me,” he said. “In fact, it might be just the place that we need to lay low. No one would find us there.”
She sat up slightly. “Is your house secure?”
“It can be,” Peak said.
“Peak—”
“Nobody in the club knows my security systems. Nobody has access to the cameras but me.”
“Your family home is probably the first place they’ll look.”
“Which is why we won’t go there immediately.”
She studied him. “You’ve thought about this.”
“Since Captain mentioned moving us.”
“You said ‘come to my house’ as though you meant longer than one night.” He had, but he knew that admitting that might scare the hell out of her. Lying would be easier, but he wasn’t interested in easy.
“I did,” he whispered.
Maeve slowly pulled her hand from his. The loss of contact bothered him more than it should have. “I can’t make plans like that.”
“I’m not asking you to move in with me, honey,” he said.
“It sounded like you were getting close to doing that,” she said.
“I’m asking you to stop living out of bags and motels while we search for your sister.”
“That could take months.”
“Then it takes months.”
“You can’t put your life on hold for me.”
Peak sat up. “My life was repairing bikes, avoiding Captain, and spending most nights alone in a house with eight bedrooms.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I’m not putting my life on hold.” He held her gaze. “I’m choosing what to do with it.”
Maeve stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“You don’t have to answer today.” She looked relieved. He made a mental note to give her time, but not too much. Maeve would use endless time as an excuse to run.
A soft buzzing came from the nightstand, and both of them froze. It was the burner phone. Peak reached for it, instantly alert, and the screen showed no caller identification. Only a text message.
DO NOT GO TO THE COORDINATES THAT CAPTAIN SENT
Maeve moved closer. “Who sent that?”
“No number,” he said.
“That isn’t possible,” she breathed.
“It is if they spoofed the sender.” Another message appeared.
THE LOCATION IS COMPROMISED
Peak’s thumb hovered over the screen. Maeve took the phone from him and inspected the message details. “Can you trace it?” he asked.
“Not from the phone,” he said.
“We need the laptop,” he said. “The one I left back at the clubhouse. I do have a backup in the saddlebag on my bike.”
Maeve looked toward the motel door. “You brought another computer?”
“I told you. I like options.”
She handed back the phone. “Don’t respond.”
“I wasn’t planning to,” he said. A third message appeared. This one made the room feel colder than the dead air conditioner ever could.
THE MOLE IS WITH CAPTAIN
Peak sat completely still. Maeve read the sentence twice. “What does that mean?”
“Either someone close to Captain is feeding information to the Director, or they want us to believe that.” Peak got out of bed and reached for his jeans. Maeve did the same, gathering her clothes from the floor.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m checking the bike.”
“You think they followed Captain?” she asked.
“I think whoever sent that knows about the coordinates, the mole, and this burner phone,” he said.
Maeve’s face hardened. “Only Captain knew he gave us the phone.”
“Captain and whoever supplied it,” Peak corrected.
“Could the phone itself be compromised?”
“Yes.” Peak removed the battery. “If it was transmitting, it isn’t anymore.”
“Could they already know where we are?” she asked.
“Probably,” he breathed.
Maeve grabbed her pistol from the nightstand.
“So we leave.” Peak looked toward the rain-streaked window.
The parking lot remained hidden behind heavy sheets of water.
The storm would make riding dangerous, but staying might be worse.
The burner phone buzzed again despite the battery sitting in Peak’s palm.
Maeve stared at it. “That’s impossible.” Peak slowly looked down. The vibration hadn’t come from the burner. It had come from his own phone inside his kutte. He pulled it out, and one new message waited on the screen.
DON’T TRUST THE NEXT PERSON WHO KNOCKS
As if summoned by the warning, someone struck the motel door. There were three slow knocks, followed by two quick ones. It was the same signal Captain had used. Maeve raised her weapon, and Peak reached for his. Neither spoke, and the knock came again.
Outside, rain hammered the roof, and thunder rolled across the marsh. Inside, Peak stood between Maeve and the door, knowing one thing with absolute certainty. Whoever was on the other side already knew far too much.