“Buck,” she said. “Is out running perimeters again.” A pause stretched between them. “Cole’s smart,” Trudi added. “Too smart, and Gorgon’s acting like he’s not worried, but—” She shook her head slightly. “You can feel that he is.”
Kimi swallowed. “Then why stay here? Why not leave and find a safer place for everyone until this blows over?”
Trudi glanced back at her. “Because this is ours.” A faint smile touched her lips. “And Gorgon?” she added softly. “He doesn’t run. Not anymore. This is his land, handed down by generations. He won’t walk away from this place, and he’s not going to walk away from you either, Kimi.” She moved for the door, pausing just long enough to say, “Figure out who you are before the world does it for you.” Then she was gone.
The silence returned, thicker this time. Kimi stood slowly, moving to the window. She watched Buck’s headlight fade into the storm until it disappeared completely. You’re safe here, she told herself. She wanted to believe that. God, she wanted to. But safety had never been a place for her. It was quickly becoming a person. And sometimes, that person was the one you had to leave to survive.
Her hand pressed against the cold glass. “I love you, Gorgon.” The words barely made a sound as the storm seemed to swallow them whole. No relief followed—just a cold, creeping certainty that felt too much like a warning. Because love had never saved her, it had only ever lit the fuse. And somewhere out there, she could feel it burning.
Morning didn’t come gently. It tore open as light bled across the snow like something wounded, pale and dying. For a second, everything stilled—like the world had taken a breath. Then the engines roared around the clubhouse. It wasn’t bikes, but truck engines.
Kimi was moving before she fully woke up, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. The air had changed around her, feeling thick, charged, and just plain wrong. She reached the window, and that was when she saw them. One truck, followed by another. Her stomach dropped. It had to be Cole. She didn’t think it, she felt it.
Below, the yard exploded into motion. Men poured out fast and controlled, weapons already in hand. Gorgon stood at the front—solid and unshaken. It was like the storm itself had to move around him. He shouted orders, but she couldn’t hearthem over the roar of the engines. She didn’t need to hear his voice because his stance said everything. He was a man already braced for the fight and what it was going to cost him.
Her throat tightened. She knew that she should tell him about the envelope, and about everything she hadn’t said. Maybe it would change something. Maybe it would stop all of this before it got worse, but she couldn’t move. Not because she was afraid to die, but because she was afraid he would. And that it would be her fault.
The first gunshot cracked through the morning, and Kimi flinched. The mug slipped from her hands, shattering against the floor. For a split second, there was silence, and then, she ran for the door. She tore down the hallway barefoot, the cold floor biting into her skin. The clubhouse had changed. It wasn’t shelter anymore. It was alive with chaos. Doors slammed, voices barked orders, and engines roared to life.
“Kimi! Stay in here!” Trudi shouted, but it was too late. Kimi opened the front door, and the cold air slammed into her as she stepped outside. The air was sharp and brutal, as it stole her breath and replaced it with something reckless.
The yard was a war zone. Men moved in lines, precise and deadly. Smoke and gas burned in the air. And then, she saw him. Cole stood beside the lead truck like he had never left her life. Like the days that she had been gone didn’t exist.
Even through the storm, she recognized that smile. It was familiar and dangerous. Gorgon moved first, walking slowly towards Cole. He was terrifyingly calm. “Turn around and live,” he shouted at Cole.
Cole laughed. “You can’t hide her forever.”
“She’s not hiding,” Gorgon said evenly. “She’s under my protection. There is a big difference between the two.” Gunfire rang out as the world felt as though it had shattered around her. Kimi dropped behind the railing, her heart slamming againsther ribs. Everything came in flashes—Gorgon firing at Cole, and Buck shouting orders to the men. Trudi was steady and unflinching with a gun in her hand, standing beside Kimi. Then, Cole shifted, not toward Gorgon, but toward her. He saw her, and the world narrowed to the barrel of his gun. He lifted it, but Gorgon pushed her out of the way. The shot cracked past where she’d been standing, splintering wood as he shoved her hard to the side.
“Don’t move,” he commanded.
“I can help,” she insisted.
“The hell you will,” he spat. He turned and fired his gun at Cole, ignoring her protests to let her help. Cole went down hard, shock flashing across his face. Everything unraveled fast after that with more gunfire, movement, and shouting. And then, there was nothing. Cole lay in the snow, clutching his leg. His men hesitated and then scattered.
Gorgon stepped forward. “You’re done.”
Cole spat blood into the snow. “You don’t get to keep what’s mine.” Kimi’s stomach twisted as Gorgon raised his weapon. He seemed to pause, and then he looked at her and lowered his weapon.
“Get him out of here,” Gorgon shouted to Cole’s men. They dragged Cole away as engines roared back to life, fading into the storm until nothing was left but silence and falling snow.
Kimi didn’t realize she was crying until the cold hit the tears on her skin. Gorgon climbed the steps slowly, stopping in front of her. “You okay?” he asked.
She let out a shaky breath. “I should ask you that.”
“I told you,” he said quietly. “No one touches you here.” Snow drifted between them, soft and endless. She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But those tracks carved into the snow told a different story. This wasn’t over.
“You just made us a bigger target,” she said.
He nodded, “Then let ’em come.” The threat in his voice was lethal, but this time, Kimi wasn’t afraid.
Gorgon
Gorgon had seen men bleed out in worse conditions than this, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch. The snow kept falling, soft and steady, covering the churned-up ground where Cole’s blood had soaked into it like an offering. The tracks from the trucks were already fading, the storm doing what it always did—erasing evidence and pretending none of it had happened.
But he knew better. Storms didn’t erase things; they buried them. And buried things had a way of coming back up. “The fence is still holding,” Buck said, coming up beside him. “West side took a few rounds, but it’s nothing we can’t fix.”
Gorgon nodded; his eyes were still on the road where Cole had disappeared. “How are the guys?”
