86. Kiera
KIERA
Dom slowed the speedboat as we approached a small dock. The ride was shorter than I expected, this dock the closest to Valemont where we’d take our Justice.
Once the boat was stopped, Spencer hopped out and tied it up before offering me a hand off the rickety vessel.
Isaac had exhausted himself from struggling against his zip ties over the ride. But that hadn’t stopped him from bargaining with us.
“You can have everything, millions. More than you ever dreamed of.” He’s looking right at Spencer as he speaks. “I’ll disappear, go to some mountain far away where no one knows my name.”
Anger filled Spencer’s face as she leapt back into the boat and ripped his head back by his hair — forcing his eyes to meet hers.
“There isn’t a fucking grain of sand on this planet that won't know about your crimes.
They already do. And they'll remember my mother's name, while yours sinks to the bottom of hell.”
As she released her grip on Isaac’s hair, Spencer spit in his face. “Fucking pathetic.”
The files had been in the public’s hand for a little over an hour now. News outlets would be reporting on the revelations while covering the disaster at his wedding.
They wouldn’t be able to sweep his crimes under the rug, not this time.
And maybe it would make what we planned to do next forgivable.
Leo helped me off the boat, lifting my hips and placing me on the dock next to Spencer. Standing with my arms crossed, I watched Dom move.
Dom sliced Isaac free from the boat’s railing, swiftly replacing the zip ties with new ones.
“My daughter, the company, I’ll leave it all to you. I promise. It’s your legacy.” Isaac’s eyes were wide as Dom hauled him off the boat and onto the wood dock.
The offer made Dom rip a laugh. Kneeling over him, Dom pressed her knee into his chest and gripped his jaw. “It’s already mine.”
Her blue eyes met mine, a passion burning in them as she smiled. “And hers.”
“No… no!” Isaac started to scream.
But before he could beg for more, Dom and Leo hauled him toward the four bikes waiting on the dirt path just ahead. A long chain extended off the back of Dom’s Brabus.
Waiting in the afternoon sun, The Gray Ghost was ready for another ride. I was nervous to drive her on the open road all by myself. Even during our mission, I’d ridden a smaller, sports bike. Today of all days, I’d have to take my father’s motorcycle for a solo ride.
Isaac’s yelps interrupted my worrying, his body thrashing as Dom and Leo tied him to the long chain. Seeing him tied up like that, my chest grew tight.
We are really doing this.
Spencer passed me my helmet, helping me onto the Ghost. “You okay? You can ride mine if you need.”
Looking down at the bike, the chrome shimmering in the sun, I shook my head. “No, I’ll do it.” My dad needed to be with us. I wanted Justice for him just as badly as I wanted it for myself.
With one nod, Spencer walked to her Suzuki. The Violence must have moved their bikes from the Manor and drove them here because the Ducati was also waiting for Leo.
Once we were all saddled up, I turned my ignition key. The Fat Boy roared to life, a deep rumble vibrating my entire body. I pulled off my heels, tucking them into the saddle bag behind me before revving the engine.
Dom looked down at her dad before mounting her own bike. “Don’t try to run. You’ll just hurt yourself worse.”
But as soon as she released her grip on him and hopped on the Brabus, Isaac rose from the ground and tried to run.
Nodding to all of us, Dom revved her engine and threw the bike into drive. Hurtling forward, the bike dragged the short chain. Isaac collapsed to the ground, forced to follow behind Dom’s pitch-black bike while his tux jacket scraped the asphalt.
Despite how slow Dom was driving, Isaac was screaming bloody murder. The road would be burning into his skin, even through the layers of clothing on his body.
I followed behind Dom, keeping my pace slow and Spencer zipped ahead and led the charge.
I could smell the fabric melting into the road as Dom slowly accelerated.
His wailing would have led us to believe he was being maimed. But he wasn’t, not yet.
Driving down long, winding roads, Dom avoided the highway. She wanted Isaac to survive — to see where we were taking him before we brought him to Justice. But as we drove, the roads became more familiar to me.
We were heading to Valemont.
My brow furrowed as my head turned to look at Leo. But she just nodded, we were going the right way.
I trusted these three with my life — clearly. I’d follow them down any road.
I took the corners slowly, aware of just how heavy the Gray Ghost was. I wasn’t an expert and certainly not the anticipated size to drive such a hulking bike.
Trying to stay steady, I tried not to look at Isaac. But it was impossible to ignore.
His suit jacket had worn through completely, his thrashing only making the damage worse. And his thin button down had already ripped enough for his bare skin to meet the road. A trail of blood followed behind Dom’s bike.
Isaac’s wrists stayed over his head, his dress shoes lost after the first tight curve ripped them off his heels.
“Please!” He screamed.
But his pleas were drowned out by the roar of our engines.
When his bargaining wouldn’t quiet, Dom kicked up the gear on her bike. The speed made Isaac’s screams louder. The smell of burning flesh drifted into my helmet — like poorly cooked meat and melting plastic.
Just when I thought he wouldn’t survive much longer, we reached the outskirts of Valemont’s downtown.
Pedestrians turned to see who was coming. They recognized the bikes of the Violence but more importantly they recognized the bastard being tugged along Dom’s bike.
Jeers started from the streets. At first, I couldn’t tell if they were yelling at us or Isaac.
But as we approached Lucky Strike, it became evident.
Violence bikers stood outside the shop with college kids from Atwood, holding signs scrawled in messy acrylic paint: PEDOPHILE. RAPIST.
Towns folk pulled out their phones, recording the moment. Dom revved her engine before speeding up, rocketing down to Main Street with Spencer matching her pace at the front. Leo and I followed, even as nervous as I was to pick up my speed.
From the sidewalks, Valemont residents threw empty cups, farmers market produce at Isaac. His body was covered in blood and trash.
Just ahead, City Hall and the Valemont Police precinct came into view.
Dom roared her bike, picking up insane speed and dragging Isaac's shredded — but still breathing — body along. Tire marks and blood stained Main Street.
Rubber burned as Dom skidded to a halt in the middle of the road. Leo, Spencer, and I circled the Brabus and Isaac a few times before settling next to them.
Isaac tried to scramble to his feet, still finding some fight in himself. But he couldn’t get a grip on the pavement. Blood poured from his wounds, his words muttered.
A crowd had gathered by city hall, impromptu protestors ready to hold their government accountable. They’d watched for decades as their children and women were poached and trafficked, all to the deaf ears of lazy cops.
Dom stood on her Brabus, lifting her helmet to the crowd.
Seeing it was her, the protestors and gathered citizens quieted. But the anger on their faces didn’t.
Leo and Spencer rose from their bikes, making sure Isaac didn’t try anything.
Dom’s voice roared across the concrete. “I see your anger. And Valemont Violence has answered.”
A cheer rose from the crowd.
“Your police have failed you. The wealthy at the top have failed you.”
More angry jeering erupted from the growing ground.
Dom’s face was a snarl, sweat building on her brow. “But we have not. We have been your silent protectors. The shadows getting you home at night.”
Looking down at us, Dom’s blue eyes pierced mine. “Not anymore. We’re stepping into the light. It’s our turn to protect what’s ours.”
Behind her, on the steps of City Hall, DA Burns nodded along. She’d spent her career watching the corrupt cops of this town not just ignore but nurture the criminal trafficking ring that simmered in its underbelly.
“Isaac Dumont lived in this town for decades. His men poached our most vulnerable, our neighbors. Every surrounding town felt the sting.
“And what did your police do?”
The crowd roared together. “NOTHING.”
Dom waved them on. “We will not fail you. Valemont is ours. And its trespassers will be punished.”
As Dom dismounted her bike, swinging her leg over the Brabus and revving the engine again, the civilians cheered us on. Behind the bike, Isaac used what little energy he had left to crawl a few measly centimeters.
Looking back at her father, Dom licked her teeth and put her helmet back on. “We’ll have matching scars now, Dad.”