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ONE

KEIRA

You’re Gonna Get What’s Coming - Klergy, VG LUCAS

T wo hundred thousand adults are taken against their will in the US every year. I’ve already added to this statistic. I don’t plan on making it a yearly occurrence. Cinder growls at the crash down the hallway. Harkin left this morning to meet with one of his contacts down the mountain. I told him I’d be fine, but here we are.

As I push my feet into my running shoes, I’m careful not to cause the old wooden floorboards to groan under my weight. Did we mark all of them just in case? We sure did—the tiny flecks of silver Sharpie glint off the light from the nightstand lamps.

I quickly empty my bedside drawer of the small arsenal Harkin insisted we both keep. The small Glock fits perfectly into the front holster pocket of my leggings. My knives slide snuggly into the side pockets, but with them loaded, my phone has nowhere to go. I send a quick SOS text to Harkin, a surefire way to have him lose his mind as he speeds back to the cabin.

The heavy footsteps sound closer to our bedroom door. Shoving my phone into my sports bra, I look at the door one last time to ensure it’s locked. Grabbing Cinder’s collar to get her attention, I give her the silent signal to come, and she follows hesitantly, her teeth still bared at the intruder.

Opening the hatch at the bottom of the closet, I usher her to go first down into the basement. The motion-activated lights flicker once she’s on the bottom steps. I quietly tug the hatch back into place, sliding the lock closed and fastening the added padlock Harkin installed when we arrived.

The basement is full of our training gear, the focus of our hibernation over the last few months we’ve been holed up in this place. Hustling across the floor to the opposite corner, I reach behind the giant floor-to-ceiling shelf, looking for the hidden exit lever. My fingers run across the cool metal, and I pull down. Freezing air blows into me when the secret door pops free.

“Cinder, scout,” I command.

She shoves past me into the passageway, running ahead to give me the all-clear. I know we’re good to go when she returns and sits at my feet. I can’t hear the footsteps above in the house anymore, and my anxiety levels a bit. When I get to the tunnel’s edge, the mess of vines and moss closes off the entrance. Pulling my knife from my pocket, I flick it open and run it along the rock wall, cutting free the greenery just enough for us to sneak through.

Cinder stays by my side as my phone vibrates against my chest, but I can hear shouting in the distance. Time is precious; until we’re at the meeting point, he’ll have to wait to hear from me. A mistake, maybe. A punishment in the making, absolutely.

The ground is solid beneath my feet. Surrounding vegetation is dead from winter’s cruel hand. Drifts of hardened snow trickle with tiny rivulets. We might be encroaching on spring, but it’s still far too cold here in the mountains for anything to grow from the ground.

Cinder leads our way through the dense forest. Even with our trail constantly changing to avoid leaving a worn path for someone to follow, it doesn’t make her stray from the endpoint. I pick up the pace, glancing over my shoulder at the ridge the tiny cabin sits on. I can’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still there.

A crunch to my right pulls my attention. It could have been nothing. A sly fox out of his den looking for food or snow dropping from a limb up above. But a snap accompanies the first sound, and Cinder’s ears perk.

Shit.

I don’t stick around to see what’s making a racket in the brush. Taking off at a run, I weave between the trees, trying to keep my tread light and stealthy. My adrenaline peaks, pulsing through my veins and pushing me to run faster. A low-hanging branch comes out of nowhere and catches me across the cheek. The rough bark scrapes my cold skin. I’m frozen down to the bone, even with the constant movement. I don’t slow my stride to worry about it. It’s nothing a little antiseptic ointment can’t fix when I get to the shed.

We’re getting closer. Down the embankment and over the next hill, a small forgotten hunting shed sits camouflaged against the forest backdrop. My feet hit a patch of ice, sending them out from under me and my ass right to the ground. I slide against dirt and rocks, trying to gain traction, but the slope is too steep to stop my body’s momentum.

Something sharp stabs into my thigh as I come to a stop at the bottom. Cinder sits beside me, whining deep in her diaphragm, while checking me over. She keeps an eye on our surroundings. Ears pointed straight to the sky, listening intently.

Pushing from the ground, I feel the giant rip in my leggings on the back of my thigh. Bright red blood drips from a deep three-inch cut. What bullshit, these are my favorite leggings. I pout before quickly remembering that’s a minor detail of my current situation.

Thankfully, the incline over the next ridge isn’t as steep, but I still crawl on my hands and knees to ensure I don’t slide right back down. Cinder has no such qualms and beats me to the top, waiting to make the last couple hundred-yard dash to safety.

I don’t pick up the same pace I had before my fall. No, now my leg’s fucked up. My ass is no doubt bruised, my hands are covered in filth, and my lungs burn from exhaustion. I hobble along, picking the direct path, even though I should double around the back, especially if someone is following me.

I’m smart enough to stop before entering. Grabbing my Glock, I chamber a bullet and lift my hands in the direction of the front door. It’s not locked. We never saw the point in it, especially in a situation like this. Everything we’ve stocked in here is hidden beneath the floorboards anyway.

My frozen digits wrap around the doorknob awkwardly; turning it slowly, I push it open just a crack. Cinder shoves past my leg, entering to sniff around the space ahead of me. When she barks once, I know it’s safe to enter.

Inching past the door, I shut it quietly and slide the locks into the place. I’m engulfed in darkness.

“Cinder, come.” Her paws pad against the wooden floorboards. When her dense, warm body leans into my leg, I feel a slight assurance of safety.

Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, I reach for my phone. The screen lights the moment I flip it over. Call after call, text after text, and a few voicemails nestle on the screen.

“Oh boy, here we go,” I say to the empty room.

“Yeah, here we go.”

“Fuck!” screeches from my throat as I launch my phone into the air, whirling in the direction of the voice hidden in the darkened corner. Cinder growls at my feet, inching closer to the shadowed figure.

“Cinder,” his command is sharp, and she knows who we share a space with, just as I do. She doesn’t leave my side; she’s my dog, but we’ve both trained her, and she knows better than to growl at him.

My body relaxes only because I know there’s no actual danger. I’m not going to die. But it doesn’t mean I’ll leave this shack unscathed from his protective wrath.

He’s quick to flick a lantern on, and the muted glow brightens the small space just enough to see each other. I don’t know how I missed another body here, but it makes sense why Cinder didn’t warn me; she wouldn’t see him as a threat.

In two strides, he’s on top of me. His large hand wraps possessively around my throat, but his thumb rubs soothingly against my pulse point. He’s pissed and shoving it aside to take stock of my body. First, the scratch across my cheek, then the state of my clothes covered in dirt from the hillside. When he’s satisfied I’m fine, he lifts his dark eyes before his lips crash against mine, jolting me back from his power.

He demands entrance, fighting to regain a semblance of control from a situation where there was none. He’s never forgiven himself for my kidnapping. Even though we both know my father would have done it eventually, regardless of Harkin’s involvement. His men took the opportunity and made the job about revenge instead of a simple retrieval. They got what was coming to them.

A moan builds in the back of my throat as my body connects with the hard cabin wall. Harkin presses in tightly, leaving no room between us. It’s like he wants to crawl inside my body and fuse our two souls so we’ll never be parted again. The back of my legs connect with the wall, forcing a hiss of pain past my lips.

He immediately stops his assault, looking down at me with concerned eyes. His pupils are blown, and his lips are swelling. “Turn around, little one,” he demands.

I listen, shifting my weight to face the wall behind me and expose the injury. “It’s fine. I think it just needs to be cleaned up and bandaged.”

“Dammit, Keira. Why didn’t you say anything?” He huffs.

My shoulders pitch, and I turn back to face him. He’s calmed slightly, but there’s still a storm in his eyes, and he hasn’t even heard what had me running through the woods in the first place. If he’s had time to check the cameras, he should be well aware by now.

“Lay on the table, and let me look at this.”

“Don’t you think we should go? What about—” My question is cut short by a growl.

“Get. On. The. Table.”

“Yes, Sir,” I sass back.

“Don’t fucking test me right now, Keira.”

I know I shouldn’t; he’s worried and most likely pissed at himself for leaving me alone in a place where we’ve found a moment of calm over the last few months. He let his guard down, and the second he did, something went haywire. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t chain us together after this.

Lying flat on my stomach across the dusty table, I let him fuss over the cut. I hear the familiar snap of a knife being flipped open before the fabric of my leggings is cut away. I let out a deep sigh. Now, there’s no way I’m mending them.

“We’ll get you a new pair. Stop squirming,” he commands.

That happens when you spend the last three months hibernating in a remote cabin in the Colorado mountains. Once the snow hit, I swear it didn’t stop, and we had to rely on what was already stocked for us.

Days, weeks, and months passed with just Cinder and us. Harkin was nose down in his computer for weeks when we first arrived, trying to track my father, to no avail. He’d kept in close contact with James back in New York, who was doing the footwork there to try to put the puzzle pieces together.

We’d had a sanctuary of sorts, but with warming temperatures comes melting snow and trouble in the form of outsiders. A sharp sting has me pushing onto my forearms and looking back over my shoulder.

“Lay your ass down. Tightening the muscle is making it bleed more.”

“Stop biting my head off,” I fume under my breath. Not even a second passes before a hard smack comes down on my ass.

“You’re testing my patience right now, sweetness. Let me get you cleaned up so we can talk.”

I huff out my annoyance, but it just makes him laugh as he works to clean and bandage the wound. With the last tearing of the tape, he steps away and grabs a bottle of water from the go bag.

“Here, take a sip and wash off your hands.”

I do as I’m told, having gotten used to letting him lead the way. Something I’d never expected I’d be able to do. But he’s earned my trust time and time again. He’s slowly dismantled my walls, and I’m thriving as a we instead of a me .

Wincing the moment my body sits upright on the table, my leg pressed against the hard surface, I jump down, letting my shoes hit the floor and lean against it instead.

“Thank you.”

He leans into me, dropping a quick kiss on my forehead, and I can’t help but inhale the smokey fresh scent that’s become his. Staying close, he leaves little room between us, waiting for me to open my eyes and regale him with the story of what happened.

“Did you watch the cameras?”

“Haven’t had time. But I cleared the house. There were only two of them. They looked like your father’s men, but I sent photos off to James to see if he knew who they were. I’ll feed them through my system when we get back.”

“Get back? You want to stay here even though they know where we are?” Surprise laces my voice.

“No. But we have time to go back and pack up before we hit the road. Now tell me what happened?”

I tell him everything, though it’s not much of a story to tell. There was no altercation. They never found me. Our escape plan worked like a dream until I was in the woods with ill-prepared footwear.

“And in all that time, you couldn’t have at least hit answer on my call so I could hear you breathing?” The fire in his eyes has dulled to a smolder.

“You have my location and could see me moving along with Cinder.” I try to soothe him further.

“Sweetness, that could have meant a whole slew of things. It’s not the same as hearing you.”

I drop my chin, knowing he’s right. But I was too worried about getting caught by one of the men. “There just wasn’t time. I’m sorry.” I pop up on my toes and bring my lips to his softly. It was just supposed to be an apology, a token of my sincerity. But he wants more.