I have no idea where it leads.
No clue as to what I might find.
But with each step, it feels more and more like I’m being pulled toward something.
My foot catches a stone and I stumble a few steps forward, finding my feet right at the corner of a fork in the path. The trail splits in two, though it’s obvious that the left is more used and well-trodden, while the other is barely visible and disguised—maybe purposefully—by large ferns that reach across, and a couple of haphazardly placed rocks.
I should continue walking.
I should follow the track around the loop that leads back to the street.
I should.
But I don’t. I take a step into the thick bushes, gently pushing them aside as I navigate the road less travelled. It’s not as if I’m some rebellious person who doesn’t like being told whereto go or what to do—that part of me burned out somewhere between teenage pregnancy and overdue bills—but there is a little curiosity and intrigue buried within me that finds it hard to walk away without answers.
Sticks and twigs crack and crunch under me, and I’m practically swallowed by the trees, the canopy up above me suddenly becoming thicker and shrouding everything within the shadows. My body tingles and my heart races, though I have no idea why.
I’m on a nature walk.
There’s nothing here but a mess of greens and browns and… I pause, squinting a little at a couple of small yellow dots off the path, under a large pine. Flowers? Tiny ones, like specks. Fighting the odds and the cold to bloom in the middle of winter!
I twist and turn, scanning the rest of the forest floor, but it’s the only bright color amongst the earthy tones. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open the camera and tiptoe over to it, trying not to disturb anything—leave it as you found it and all that.
Crouching down to take a photo to show Jovie, I reach out to lift them just slightl?—
“Don’t touch that.”
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 9 - GRIZZ
My second cup of coffee steams in front of me. The black pool swirling in my mug as Axel froths milk with the coffee machine he insisted we get for the clubhouse. The high-pitched squeal penetrates my brain, causing a temporary paralysis of concentration. Frustrated when my plans for the day sit just on the cusp of conscious thought.
“Can you shut that fucking thing off already. It feels like you're stabbing my brain with a knitting needle.”
Axel, Mac, and Blaze all look at me, puzzled at my outburst. Axel smacking the jug on the stainless steel counter, milk drops flying all over him and the machine.
“I like a frothy milk, and one day I'm going to figure out how Sarah makes those flower shapes at the bar.”
Mac rests both hands on the center island of the kitchen. Leaning forward, he holds my gaze. “I’m more concerned why Grizz is talking about knitting needles? You been checking out the local talent at Senior Living Sundays.”
His lip curls in a slow smile while Axel pulls out a stool, sitting next to him. Picking up my phone, I’m on the cusp ofthrowing it at his big head, ready to deal with a cracked screen if it falls to the floor, when a series of beeps sound out, all of our phones lighting up within seconds.
The motion sensors.
Dropping the conversation, I open the security app, bringing up the cameras, waiting for the image to load. We have it set to activate for anything larger than a toddler. House cats kept setting the damn thing off when it was first installed, so we figured it was safe to exclude them. Occasionally, we have a large dog or deer roam close to the compound, but never people.
We worked with the local council to redirect the town loop walkway from our fence line. Encouraging plant growth on the original path has kept almost everyone at bay. You can see the remains of the fork in the path, but no one leaves the trail. Choosing to stay on the well-maintained scenic route.
Initially, it's just a shadow, but one that is clearly human.Fuck. Just because no rival club has come after us yet doesn't mean it can't happen.
Reaching in the back waistband of my jeans, I pull out my Glock, checking that the magazine is loaded and the safety is on. We all look at our devices, two of the prospects getting the alert and standing at the kitchen entrance waiting for direction.
Just a little closer and – God dammit.
Placing my Glock on the center island, I leave my still hot coffee, hurrying to the back door near the walk-in fridge. Calling over my shoulder as I step into the crisp air, “Shut it down.”
Jogging to the closest perimeter gate, my phone beeps again, but I don't bother to check the message. One of the guys will have sent out a stand-down order to the motion sensor alert.
