56. Kiera
KIERA
Short and simple. Dom promised the route would be short and simple.
But despite all the reassurances from my angels, my clammy palms didn’t make it any easier to steer the sportbike they’d set out for me.
Deep breaths. Keep your eyes where you want to go.
I could hear the whine of drones zipping overhead as Zeus scrambled to get coverage over the woods.
But the bikers wouldn’t make that easy — we had groups driving off to every far corner of Valemont and beyond.
Between the tree cover, the matching outfits, and the sheer speed of their bikes, the surveillance twerps at Zeus would have a hard time piecing together where exactly I’d gone.
Assuming I make it there in one piece.
As the other bikes started to roll off, I knew that I couldn’t wait. Hearing Dom’s voice in my head, I gripped the clutch, shifted into first gear, and let the bike begin to roll. Then, once the clutch was in the friction zone, I rolled on the throttle, giving the bike some real speed.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
I’d been practicing with Dom all week, but bile still burned at the back of my throat as the trees started to whip past.
After that first lesson, Dom’s instructions quickly shifted from being thrilling and new to long and droning. I thought the whole drill sergeant act was ridiculous as I’d carted my sore muscles off to bed each night.
But now, I wished that we’d practiced more. Not that it was physically possible; she’d kept me on those bikes from dawn til dusk whenever she got the chance.
Now, I just had to carry through on what I’d learned.
Despite my nausea, I maintained my speed. I couldn’t afford to move any slower than this without standing out from the rest of the bikers. Still, it was hard to handle the small bumps in the road without imagining my motorcycle wrapped around one of these blurry pines.
No, no. Not that. Imagine anything else.
No matter what my nerves told me, I’d learned enough to drive in a straight line down an empty road at the speed limit. Crashing was not an option.
I drew another deep breath into my burning lungs, holding it there until the tension in my chest was forced to ease.
Leo’s calming exercise came to mind, but most of what I could see was blurs of color: the road in front of me, the fuzzy green trees, their shadows, the big open sky on the horizon, and my own hands gripping for dear life to the bike handles.
But when it came to what I could hear, I realized one noise was notably absent: the whine of the drones. They couldn’t cover all of us. The plan was working.
My shoulders eased with the revelation.
We’ve got this. Just go through the instructions again.
I knew the ride would be over soon. The trees were already starting to thin, and it would be a matter of moments before I’d reached downtown Valemont.
Until then, I tried to cycle through everything Dom had taught me about riding, as if repeating the lessons was some sort of protective spell. Soon, long-forgotten bits of advice from my father started to filter into the mix too.
His voice was like a balm to my restless mind — at least when I could forget that his primary advice about controlling one of these death traps was to never get on one.
Eventually, I broke from the tree line and into town proper. I was relieved to be able to slow my speed, but in some sense, this was the hardest part. The wooded road was pretty much a straight line with no other traffic. But downtown was a maze of sharp turns and reckless pedestrians.
Braking at my first red light, I rolled my shoulders back and felt the engine rumble through me like the heartbeat in my own chest.
Just a few more blocks. A minute, and this is over.
When the light turned green, I started up again, preparing for my first turn. As I eased the handles to the right, I leaned into the turn. Maybe if I could tap into muscle memory, I could mimic the movements my lovers used to control these things.
They’d always gotten me where I was going safely. And if I could just make it two more blocks, I’d be back in their protective arms. And just as the thought crossed my mind, my destination appeared ahead of me like a beacon.
I’ve never been so excited to see a fucking dive bar.
And this place was truly a dive: the rusted out metal sign over the cracked glass door announced that from down the block. But as far as I was concerned, I was pulling up to the gates of Valhalla.
My lovers were already parking their bikes outside. While I felt like I was on a high-speed thrill ride, they had clearly slowed their pace to keep my inexperience from being too noticeable to our surveillants.
My heart was really pounding now — trying to keep my focus on the follow through, I pulled my bike up beside theirs, lowered the kickstand, and killed the engine.
Only then could I manage a full breath.
Holy shit, I did it. I really did it.
I wanted to jump for joy. I wanted to rip off my helmet and kiss every one of these bikers, maybe a few of the pedestrians walking by on the street for good measure.
But before I could even swing my leg over the bike to dismount, Dom’s gruff voice crackled over my headset. “Keep cool until we’re inside.”
I nodded, biting back the excitement coursing through my veins.
We seemed to have shaken the drones, and aside from any foot soldiers Zeus tried to send, Valemont was a deadzone. And even those were often met with cool hostility. As it had been described to me, the Rubyfruit wasn’t the kind of place that took kindly to nosey fucks.
But we couldn’t be too careful. There was far too much on the line to play fast and loose now.
As Dom led the way into the bar, I looped my arm through Leo’s, glad for something to brace against. The adrenaline made my knees shake, and as we stepped inside, a wave of noise nearly blew me off my feet.
The inside of the bar was so much darker than the outside that I had to blink for my eyes to adjust. Classic rock blasted from a speaker right over the door, making most of the chatter in the bar inaudible to a new guest.
Despite how run-down it seemed from the outside, the Rubyfruit was far from deserted: a fact owed more to the fully stocked bar and heavy-pouring bartender than the ambiance, if I had to guess.
The rugged wood paneling and rough leather benches looked like they hadn’t been updated in decades.
But based on the number of patrons, I guessed that they served their purpose well enough.
As we passed by the bar counter, a group of four stood from their stools, beelining straight for Dom.
“Keys?” The tallest among them asked. And as Dom passed over her set, I did the same, watching in awe as they walked out the front door and rode out bikes straight out of town.
It was the plan, of course. But that didn’t make it any less awe-inspiring to see what a well-oiled machine my lovers had built with Violence.
Without a word, Dom assumed the empty spot at the bar, waiting patiently while a bartender with a sword-and-wings tattoo fetched four plastic bags from behind the counter.
“Get changed,” Dom grumbled, pressing one of the bags into my arms. “We’ve got a few hours to kill.”
“I can just wear—”
But Spencer cut me off with a shake of her head. “New clothes will make you harder to track when we leave here.”
“Oh,” I nodded, my helmet clanking with the movement. “Can I…?”
“Once you get changed, yeah,” Leo brushed a hand over the back of my helmet.
But while my angels were busy doting on me, Dom’s attention was still with the bartender, grabbing a set of car keys from her open palm. “All gassed up?”
The bartender laughed. “What do you think I am, a newbie?”
An escape vehicle.
They really had planned out everything. Yet it didn’t stop the pounding of my heart.
I knew that there was no way Zeus could have prepared for all of that. Valemont was safe, we were safe. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on me. The drones, the SUVs, my mother’s piercing glare: all of it was a tangible reminder of Zeus’ dedication to their search.
They wouldn’t quit until they found me, and there was nothing they wouldn’t do to draw me out into the light. The chase might be over for tonight, but the hunt had only just started.