Page 92 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

By the time everyone gathers in the garage, Isaak and Adelaide are already at it beside one of the cars.

“I’ll drive,” Isaak says, plucking a set of keys from the hook. “You’ll ride with me. Arlo can take the other.”

Adelaide snatches the keys straight out of his hand. “You drive as if the laws of physics don’t apply to you.”

He folds his arms, his expression cutting. “Statistically, my reaction time is faster.”

“Statistically,” she echoes, mockingly, “you also have a god complex.”

“Objectively correct,” he replies without hesitation.

“Objectively intolerable,” she shoots back.

Hunter, looking unimpressed, walks past them and plucks the keys from Adelaide’s fingers. “Enough. I’m driving.”

Adelaide opens her mouth to argue, but Hunter’s already looking at Piper. “Get in.”

She blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

“I said. Get. In.” His tone leaves no room for debate.

Piper hesitates, then moves toward the passenger door. Hunter opens it for her, waits until she’s inside, then leans in to pull the seatbelt across her and clicks it into place himself before closing the door.

He turns back toward Isaak, his expression flat. “Happy now?”

Isaak mutters something in Russian under his breath that sounds anything but happy.

Adelaide smirks triumphantly, brushing past him to claim the back seat. Isaak follows her.

Hunter exhales, visibly regretting his life choices, and starts the engine.

Arlo turns to me. “Get in.”

He opens the passenger door, waits until I’m seated, then closes it before circling around to the driver’s side.

Behind us, Octavia and Milo climb into the back, already arguing over who gets to connect to the Bluetooth and choose the music.

As we pull out of the garage, the sky is pale, the morning quiet except for the crunch of tires against snow.

Another day.

Another truce.

Another fragile illusion of peace among the chaos.

And I can’t help but wonder how long it will last.

Chapter 31

Arlo

After breakfast on the way, we park near the helipad, the engines slicing through the morning stillness.

The air is thin and sharp, the kind that bites your lungs yet somehow feels clean enough to burn everything out of you.

Men in heavy jackets wait beside the helicopter, the blades still.

Isaak and Hunter handle the arrangements. The guide begins the safety briefing, straps, releases, avalanche beacons, emergency codes.