Kimi’s gaze flicked to Buck—measured, assessing—and then back to Gorgon. She seemed to understand something instinctive. The one who spoke the least was the one who made the decisions.
“I needed to get off the highway,” she said finally. “I—I saw the turn and took it.”
Gorgon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You saw the turn.”
“Yes, the exit from the highway. It was the first one that I had seen in kilometers, so I took it.” If she was lying, Gorgon couldn’t tell. But there was something that she wasn’t saying that hid the truth.
Gorgon let his gaze travel over her body—jacket, jeans, and boots that weren’t meant for snow. She wore no jewelry and carried no purse. But she had a cellphone in her hand like it was her lifeline. She had no visible bruises, and he saw no blood. But fear wasn’t always visible. Sometimes it lived behind the eyes.
“You alone?” he asked.
Kimi hesitated just a heartbeat and then nodded. “Yes,” she breathed. That was a lie—he was sure of it. Her voice was smaller and more desperate than before. Gorgon took another step forward until he was at the edge of the porch, looking down at her with the kind of stillness that usually made men confess all of their sins to him.
“Kimi,” he said, and her name sounded different in his mouth this time. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t cruel either. “Do you know what happens to people who don’t belong here?”
Her shoulders tightened, but she didn’t step back. “I’ve heard rumors,” she admitted. He could see it in her eyes now. Either she had done her homework, or she had been warned. Eitherway, she came anyway. Which meant whatever was behind her felt worse than what stood in front of her. That kind of fear made people make stupid choices—or smart ones.
He watched her closely. “Then why come here?” he asked.
Kimi’s mouth opened, then closed. Her eyes flashed with something like frustration—at herself, not him. “I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she said quietly. Finally, the truth. It slipped out of her like it cost her something, though.
Gorgon’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like the desperation he heard in her voice. When people sounded like Kimi, they usually brought chaos along with them. The last thing his club needed right now was more chaos, but he liked the kind of courage that walked into danger even after knowing about it.
A sound carried from the road, like tires squealing on gravel. Another vehicle was approaching. Kimi’s breath hitched. There it was—the thing she’d been holding back. Gorgon didn’t look away from her to see what was coming their way. He didn’t need to. The way her body reacted told him enough. Someone had followed her.
Buck shifted beside him, his hand going toward the gun at his hip. In the yard, engines turned over as a couple of bikes roared to life, rumbling low like warning growls. Club members moved into positions without being told. They lined the south side of the property, near the shop, closest to the fence line. They were a family built on instinct and loyalty, and Gorgon had been their president long enough that they read him the way the land read the weather.
Gorgon kept his voice even. “Who’s coming, Kimi?”
Her lips parted. She looked like she might try to lie to him again. Then she met his eyes, and something in her cracked—just slightly. “Trouble,” she whispered.
He felt something cold slide through his veins—not fear, but focus. Gorgon lifted a hand, two fingers flicking once, and Buckmoved off the porch, silent as a shadow, signaling the others. The rumble of bikes steadied into readiness.
The second vehicle came into view beyond the trees. It was a dark SUV, with its headlights off until it hit the floodlights from the line of bikes. That was deliberate and predatory. The SUV rolled into the yard like it owned the place, and that was a mistake.
The SUV stopped near Kimi’s car, and the driver’s door opened. A man stepped out with the kind of swagger that came from thinking he had the upper hand. He looked around at the bikes, the cuts, and all the faces turned toward him. Then his gaze landed on Kimi.
A smile cut across his mouth, sharp and ugly. “There you are.” Kimi didn’t move. But Gorgon saw her fingers tighten around her phone until her knuckles went pale. The man’s eyes shifted upward, finding Gorgon on the porch, and recognition flickered in his eyes. It was quickly followed by contempt, like he knew who Gorgon was, but didn’t care. That was his second mistake.
“Evening,” the man called, his voice too loud. “Just here for what’s mine.” The yard went dead silent as Gorgon stepped forward, one slow movement, and rested his hands on the porch railing. His cigarette sat forgotten between his fingers.
“What’s your name?” Gorgon asked.
The man laughed. “Doesn’t matter.”
Gorgon stared the man down. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t theatrical. It was simply the way a predator looked at something that had wandered too close. “What’s your name?” Gorgon repeated, softer now.
The man’s smile faltered, just a fraction, like he felt something and didn’t understand what it was.
“Cole,” he said after a beat. “Now, Prez?—”
“Cole,” Gorgon interrupted. The man was at least smart enough to stop talking. Not because he’d been ordered to, but because something in Gorgon’s voice made the words catch in his throat.
Gorgon’s gaze slid to Kimi. “Is he the trouble?” Kimi didn’t answer at first. Her eyes were locked on Cole like she was trying to will him away. Like she’d spent too many nights doing exactly that.
Then she whispered, “Yes.”
That was all it took. Gorgon looked back at Cole. “I don’t care what story you brought onto my land,” Gorgon said, his voice calm and flat. “But you don’t claim anything here. Not a woman. Not air. Not gravel, because everything belongs to me.”
