88. Kiera
KIERA
I must have drifted to sleep at some point. My body was jolted awake by the rattle of the private charter jet racing down the tarmac and coming to a gentle stop.
“How long was I out?” I sucked in a deep breath as I blinked the grogginess from my eyes.
Leo smiled back at me. “Just a few minutes, darlin’.”
As soon as the stairs were rolled up to the plane, Dom rose from her white leather seat. “Let’s not waste time.”
She’d been grumpy the entire trip, not interested in playing Go Fish or Rummy. Crossing her arms across the aisle, she stared out the window for the last six hours.
Leo and Spencer grabbed their backpacks from the overhead compartments. Throwing my duffel bag over her shoulder, Leo winked as she walked toward the latch.
I followed behind them as the crew guided us out of the jet and onto the tarmac where a black Cadillac waited for us. A woman in a suit stood next to it, her hands folded over her crotch as she greeted Dom, passing off the keys.
A warm, humid air hit my face as I took a breath of the fresh air. We were somewhere North, somewhere the dew collected on the ground in early Spring.
The trunk was already popped, making it easy for Leo and Spencer to chuck our bags in. None of us had any idea how long this mission would take. But I knew that whoever this lawyer was had gotten these instructions from my father over a decade ago. And they’d been in hiding ever since.
They would likely be hostile to newcomers, and aware that interested parties would be looking for them.
Either way, we packed for every possibility.
Dom hopped into the driver’s seat in one easy motion as Leo took shotgun and Spencer slid in next to me. Some time between my arrival and now it had become our usual order.
The car zipped off the tarmac and onto a service road that led us to a highway. Every sign I saw was for I-405N. And every distance marker lowered the miles to Seattle.
Washington State. Far from Zeus.
I leaned back in my seat — a city was less scary. There would be people everywhere. As unfamiliar as Washington was, I knew being alone in the woods anywhere was dangerous. After all, these three bikers had managed to hide me away in their mansion for months now.
Following the highway north, we stayed like that for a good half hour before Dom veered us off onto a smaller interstate, and in the opposite direction of the Seattle skyline. The route quickly turned from apartment buildings to suburbs.
But that went even faster than the city had. The vibrant greens of Spring were in full bloom here, the heavy rains welcoming new buds on every tree as they mixed with the evergreens that stuck around all year.
The houses grew farther and farther from the road as a pit formed in my stomach.
“So, no Women’s Hockey for us.” Leo cleared her throat, trying to cut the tension in the car. As we followed signs for Route 2 and Baring Mountain, we all knew that our situation was growing more precarious by the second.
The quiet part, the one none of us would say outloud, was how easy it would be for The Oracle to disappear us out here. It was something I’d been thinking about for weeks as we waited for the location of our meeting.
Were they preparing a local chapter to deal with us?
Anything was possible, and everything was a risk.
We didn’t have much choice but to follow their lead. And pray that we didn’t need Leo’s military expertise to keep us safe.
The tattoo on my arm felt like it was burning a hole in my skin as my ears popped. We were climbing up a mountain now, the SUV doing a shockingly good job at keeping up on the rugged, rural road.
The GPS counted down, just a few minutes now.
On the steering wheel, Dom’s finger tapped against the wheel. Maybe she was as anxious as the rest of us, even if she tried to hide it.
And then the navigator dinged our arrival. My eyes darted down the long, windy driveway.
“For fuck’s sake.” I swallowed hard.
“No way out.” Spencer sighed.
Dom met my eyes in the rearview. “Just through.”
Turning the wheel, Dom drove down the gravel path, trying to dodge the dozens of potholes in our way. A light drizzle forced her to turn on the windshield wipers as the canopy off to our sides grew thicker.
Dom pressed on the brakes as a shabby cabin peeked through the thick, green brush.
Once it was in park, no one moved. All of us trying to decide if we were about to step into the witch’s cabin after following breadcrumbs.
Peering up at the cabin, Leo scoffed. “Place looks nearly abandoned.”
“Except for the chicken coop.” Dom tilted her chin toward the wooden frame and wire fencing. Inside, a dozen hens milled about.
Someone’s really here.
No one wanted to move first.
“Fuck it. I’m tired of waiting.” I grabbed the door handle and swung it open, a gush of moist mountain air filling my lungs.
My saviors followed suit, stepping in next to me as I walked toward the cabin.
Dom pulled ahead, lifting the hem of her shirt at the back. A lump the size of a softball blocked my throat as I saw the black glock tucked into the waistband of her pants.
A fucking gun. Fuck.
We slowed as we got a few yards from the front step, each taking in the silence.
Leo held up a hand for us to stop, something tipping off her senses.
BANG.
The rickety cabin door flung open, slamming into the wall as a broad woman appeared on the porch.
All I saw was the sawed-off shotgun in her hands as all of us flinched.
But then I saw her. A short, sharp bob cut just below her chin swung as she moved — every hue of gray shimmering as she held us in her sights.
Her voice was deep as she screamed at us. “Who the fuck are you?”
I couldn’t think. Not when I looked at her. Something stopping me in my tracks. I knew that voice.
My eyes darted to Dom. I’d assumed she’d be pointing her glock right back at the crazy lady.
But instead, she stood still, her eyes wide.
My eyes flicked between them, a stand off that no one wanted to break.
Why isn’t she pulling the gun?
Then the barrel of the woman’s shotgun lowered ever so slightly, her voice softer now. “Madeline?”
Swallowing hard, Dom stood up straighter. “Mom?”
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