Kimi
The sound of engines woke her. It wasn’t the soft rumble of bikes warming up, but the kind of deep, shaking roar that meant every man in the yard had mobilized for something serious.
She worried that it was something that had to do with her, and the thought of any of them getting hurt scared the hell out of her.
She needed to get to Gorgon and tell him everything that she hadn’t yet told him because if he was riding out to meet Cole, it might not end well for him or her guys, and that gutted her.
She swung her legs off the bed and crossed to the window.
The morning was white and endless, snow shaking from the trees when the wind passed through them.
But the yard wasn’t still. She saw men grabbing rifles, pulling on gloves, slamming truck doors as they jumped in. A few of them even were on snowmobiles.
She knew that she wasn’t wrong about trouble finding them because she saw it in the distance.
A black SUV sat beyond the fence line, with its engine idling.
It was Cole—she just knew it. He was using the newly fallen snow to come for her, hoping that Gorgon and his guys wouldn’t be able to move fast enough, but he was wrong.
Judging from the fury in the yard below, they were well equipped to handle him.
She didn’t need anyone to tell her what was going on.
The fear hit low and sharp in her gut, like it never really left, almost as if it was just waiting for her to let her guard down.
And she had done just that with Gorgon. She gripped the windowsill until her knuckles ached, breathing too fast as she watched the men scurrying around the yard.
When her eyes landed on Gorgon, she froze. He moved like the storm itself—voice raised as he shouted orders, calm and deliberate. His men scattered to their positions around him, taking cues in silence. The wind tugged at his cut, the white skull on the back ghosted by the blowing snow.
He didn’t look scared. He didn’t even look angry.
He was just—focused, and that was what made her throat close.
Because she remembered that look all too well.
It was the one Cole used to wear right before he was going to hurt someone.
Most of the time, it was her that he was planning on hurting.
But with Gorgon, there was no heat or ego in it.
Just absolute, steel-cold certainty. He was about to do something irreversible, and she couldn’t let him do it.
Stopping him might be like trying to stop a speeding train, but she had to try before he did something that he’d regret.
She shoved her coat on and ran barefoot down the hallway. Trudi’s voice echoed from the main room. It was half curse and half warning—but Kimi didn’t stop. She slammed through the front doors, the cold hitting like a fist, as Trudi ran after her.
“You need to stay here,” she shouted at Kimi. She didn’t bother to turn around or obey Trudi’s orders. She needed to get to Gorgon.
“Gorgon!” she shouted from the porch. His head snapped toward her, his eyes cutting through wind and distance like they’d known she’d come.
“I couldn’t stop her,” Trudi shouted to him in way of explanation.
“Kimi, get back inside,” he called, calm and commanding.
“Like hell I will,” she shot back, chest heaving. “You said you’d keep me alive. That doesn’t mean starting a war over me.”
His jaw flexed as he motioned to one of the men to hold position.
He walked back across the yard, and she almost wanted to change her mind and run back into the clubhouse.
With every step that he took towards her, the angrier he seemed to get.
He stomped up onto the porch and towered over her.
“You think this isn’t war already?” he growled.
The SUV’s engine revved, snarling defiance into the quiet.
For a moment, nothing moved. Then the driver’s door cracked open, and Cole stepped out.
The same dark smugness was behind his eyes, and he wore the same self-satisfied cruelty behind the smirk—like the kind that built its power on people who learned to cower in his presence. A bruise still marked his throat from the last time they’d met, when Gorgon’s voice alone had turned him away.
He looked up at her, recognition twisting his mouth. “Guess I didn’t lose you after all. You’ve been right here waiting for me, haven’t you, baby?”
Before she could speak again, Gorgon’s voice rumbled low beside her. “Careful how you talk while you’re breathing my air,” he growled at Cole from across the yard.
Cole chuckled, stepping forward a little as though pressing his luck.
His hands were visible, which was deliberate, but his movement was coiled and snake-like.
He was trying to look patient, but she could tell it was just an act.
“Relax, Prez. I just want a chat.” The men shifted around them as their rifles were raised and pointed directly at Cole.
Gorgon didn’t even blink. “You trespassed again. That was your first mistake.”
Cole’s grin widened. “And the second?”
“Thinking you would ever leave here standing on your own,” Gorgon growled. The wind cut between them, feral and still. Kimi’s pulse thudded so loud she could barely hear anything but her own thoughts.
Cole’s eyes found her again. “You really hiding behind these guys now? You think you can outrun me after what you took?”
She swallowed, forcing her voice to work. “No, this ends now because I’m ending it. I’m ending you, Cole.”
That seemed to surprise him just enough that his mask slipped a fraction of an inch out of place. “You think that you can end me? Don’t make me laugh, sweetheart. You don’t even know what you stole.”
“I know enough,” she said. To keep him from noticing that her hands were shaking, she shoved them into her pockets. “And so does he.” She nodded to Gorgon, hoping that he wouldn’t give away that she was lying.
Gorgon stepped forward a pace, just enough that the light from the garage caught his eyes. “You came here last time thinking you had the power. Turns out you were just lucky that I was in a good mood and let you go. You might not be that lucky this time.”
Cole opened his mouth to fire back—but the SUV door behind him opened again. Another man stepped out. He was smaller and seemed a bit more cautious than Cole, although his expression was unreadable. Kimi recognized him as one of Cole’s men.
“Boss,” he muttered, glancing between Gorgon’s men posted along the fence line. “Maybe we should—”
Cole cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Shut up.” Kimi saw it then—the flicker of tension in Cole’s posture, the way his bravado thinned at the edges. He hadn’t come to talk. He’d come because he was desperate.
And Gorgon seemed to notice it too. He shifted slightly, his chin lifting. “You’ve got one chance to turn around and drive away,” he said. “If I were you, I’d take it.” It was so quiet, she was sure that they were all holding their breaths waiting for Cole to answer. Even the wind held still.
Then Cole grinned again, too wide, “You don’t scare me,” he foolishly said to Gorgon.
“That’s your third mistake,” Gorgan spat.
And with that, Gorgon’s hand went up—a silent signal.
Buck’s men moved instantly, weapons raised but steady.
The click of their safety latches being released sounded like thunder.
Cole froze. The guy who was with him cursed under his breath. Kimi didn’t breathe at all.
“Get in the car,” Gorgon said quietly. “Now.” For a second, Cole didn’t move. The weight in Gorgon’s tone wasn’t louder—it was heavier. It was the voice of a man who didn’t bluff.
Cole’s jaw flexed. The false grin cracked.
He turned without another word and told his guy to get back into the SUV and slammed the door.
Snow sprayed at them as the tires spun and the vehicle fishtailed before finally tearing down the road again, swallowed by white. Only then did Gorgon lower his hand.
The yard stayed still for another heartbeat—listening and waiting.
When Gorgan exhaled, the others slowly relaxed their aim and lowered their guns.
Kimi staggered a step back, the wind ripping through her lungs.
She’d expected gunfire, not the kind of silent victory that left the world ringing around her.
Gorgon turned to her, his eyes were unreadable. It was the closest thing to gentle he ever looked. “You shouldn’t have come out.”
“You were about to kill him,” she challenged.
“I would’ve,” he said. His tone wasn’t defensive. He was just being honest, and she appreciated his honesty.
Her throat was dry. “You can’t just decide who lives and dies because they crossed your fence.”
He stepped closer, snow crunching under his boots. “Maybe not. But anyone who comes for you crosses a line they can’t step back from.”
She didn’t know whether to shout or cry. Her voice broke anyway. “You can’t make yourself responsible for me.”
“I already did,” he whispered. He reached out then, his knuckles brushing her jaw in the smallest gesture—steady and grounding. The same hand that ordered men to hold fire now trembled almost imperceptibly where it touched her.
The anger in her chest twisted, softened, and turned into something worse—understanding. “You can’t save me from all of this,” she whispered.
His voice dropped, rough but certain. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.
” For a second, neither of them moved. Wind howled around them, snow slicing sideways like shards of glass.
The world burned white and cold, but between them, the air stayed warm.
And Kimi realized that it wasn’t just about him saving her anymore.
It was about her choosing to stay with him.
The storm was no longer outside the fence.
It was in her, too, and she wasn’t sure how to tame it.