Page 5 of Unmask (Crew of Elmwood Public #2)

KAYLOR

T he road stretched before us, nothing but thick trees and darkness pressing in from both sides.

The only sound in the cab was the low hum of the truck’s engine and the occasional thump of loose gravel kicking up beneath the tires.

Rusty’s large hands dwarfed the wheel, his expression somber as he kept his eyes on the winding road.

I stared out the window, my breath fogging the glass as my mind reeled over everything that had led to this moment. Leaving. Running. Kreed’s face when I stepped back. The way his hand had lingered in the air between us before he’d clenched it into a fist and let it drop.

It was for the best.

So why did it feel as if I’d ripped something open inside myself?

Rusty cleared his throat, pulling me away from my turbulent thoughts.

“You’ll be safe at the cabin. No one knows about it but your dad and me.

Not even Jesse.” Jesse was Rusty’s son, who was a few years older than I was.

Rusty and Jesse’s mom never had a relationship, and he hadn’t found out he had a son until Jess was seven.

“There’s no Internet or TV, but we do get spotty cell service, depending on the weather. ”

If he was trying to sell me on this cabin, it wasn’t working. No Internet or TV sounded like a prison sentence, not a retreat. Swiping at my eyes, I stared straight ahead, refusing to shed another tear over a traitor. “Where is it?”

He glanced over his shoulder before changing lanes, the snake tattoo coiling around his entire arm drawing my eyes.

“Outside city limits, deep in the woods. It used to belong to an old friend of mine before he moved out of state. He left the place to me,” he said.

“Figured it might come in handy one day. Or at the very least, a place to escape and relax. Your dad and I used to come out here to get away when things got hot.”

I studied him in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

Rusty had always been solid. Dependable.

He hadn’t given up on me after my parents died and had fought to get me out of the Corvos’ control, to make sure I knew the truth.

And yet, the way he and the Vipers had gone about getting me back unsettled me.

Maybe it was just my paranoia. Maybe it was the exhaustion gnawing at the outskirts of my mind.

Maybe it was having my heart yanked out of my chest a second time, but I had so many more questions.

I started with something simple. We’d get to the nitty-gritty details eventually. “Why are you doing this?”

His jaw tensed slightly, causing his beard to twitch. “I had to get you away from them. You don’t belong with the Corvos, and it’s what your father would want. They might be gone, but you still have family. The crew will take care of you.”

I swallowed hard. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in with everything you’ve learned about your father.

But the Corvos only see you as something to use, but you’re not a damn tool.

You’re not theirs. You belong with us. I’m sorry that we couldn’t protect you sooner.

I had no idea what Donovan had planned. If I had…

well, things would have gone differently. ”

My stomach twisted at his words. Perhaps because a part of me knew he wasn’t wrong.

Or maybe because I didn’t know who I belonged to anymore.

Or that I wanted to belong to myself. Why did I have to choose?

I wanted nothing to do with either side or the hatred they’d built between them.

I had my own anger to work through. Adding to it would only make it difficult.

It would harden me, make me bitter and jaded, and I’d already changed so much.

“If you wanted to protect me, what was the purpose of the masks?” I asked. They had the opposite effect of safety. I had thought they were the killers or associated with them. My mind couldn’t reason why the Vipers would wear them if not to frighten me, which they had.

The truck hit a bump, jostling us in our seats. “To throw the Corvos off. We were trying to avoid them knowing it was us, not just for your safety, but for the crew and their families. We hadn’t meant to scare you, but it had to look real for the Ravens to believe it.”

“Oh, it looked and felt very real,” I mumbled, toying with the ends of my sleeve that was starting to tatter from my constant stress.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t go exactly according to plan.”

“No shit.” But that was the story of my life.

“I know it was a mistake, kiddo. But Donovan watches everything, and we couldn’t risk him linking it back to the Vipers too soon.”

I turned back toward the window, watching as the trees grew denser, the night even darker. “How much longer?” Turned out I was too fucking tired to grill Rusty.

The unmistakable scent of grease and oil filled the cabin of the truck, mostly from Rusty’s clothes but some from the seats. “Almost there.”

A few minutes later, the truck slowed as we turned onto an overgrown driveway, branches scraping the sides of the vehicle.

Up ahead, the outline of a small house emerged through the trees.

The tires crunched over unplowed snow as Rusty pulled the truck to a stop in front of a small, weathered cabin, nestled deep in the woods.

The place was dark, silent, and unnervingly isolated except for the single porch light flickering and barely cutting through the night.

Cabin was a generous word for what sat in the middle of the clearing. The structure was small, almost forgotten, with a slanted roof and a front porch that sagged. The paint on the exterior was peeling, and the wooden shutters hung loose.

Rusty cut the engine, leaving just the howling winds blowing through the trees as he glanced at me. “It’s not much, but it’s remote and safe. No one will come looking for you here. Not unless you want to be found.”

Safe.

I wasn’t sure I even knew what that word meant anymore.

“What about Donovan?” I asked. If he had gone through so much effort to get my guardianship, it seemed unlikely he would just let me go and cut his losses.

“I don’t want you to worry. I’ll handle Donovan and his Ravens. The only thing you need to be doing is thinking about your future.”

Those Ravens included Kreed, Mason, Maddox, and Raine.

Not that I gave a shit. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

My arms wrapped around myself as I huddled into the seat.

I should have felt relief. I should have been grateful, instead of the unease coiling unrelentingly in my stomach, but exhaustion weighed heavier.

My body ached, my head was a mess, and right now, I didn’t have the energy to question anything.

After I slid out of the truck, my boots sank into a layer of snow as I took in the rest of the place. The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and earth, and the wind whispered through the trees, rattling the bare branches like bones clacking together.

Rusty unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking on the light inside.

A dull yellow glow flooded the cabin, revealing a space that hadn’t been touched in months, maybe longer.

Dust clung to the sparse furniture, including a worn-out couch with a crocheted throw draped over the back.

A wooden coffee table littered with old magazines sat beside the couch, and just over the threshold to the right was a small kitchenette with a single-burner stove and an outdated fridge.

I stepped inside cautiously, cedar lingering thick in the air as my fingers brushed against the edge of a counter. A fine layer of dust coated the surface, confirming my suspicion. “No one’s been here in a while?”

Rusty shrugged, setting his keys on the counter and moving to put a kettle of water on the only burner. “Haven’t had a reason to use it lately, especially during the winter. The roads can be treacherous and slick during a storm.”

I nodded slowly, my gaze drifting to the one hallway leading to what I assumed was a bedroom and bathroom. The whole place felt…abandoned.

Rusty pulled a mug from the cabinet and filled it with hot water from a kettle. He dropped a tea bag in before handing it to me. “Drink this. It’ll help you sleep.”

I accepted it, the warmth seeping into my fingers. “How long can I stay here?”

His frame seemed to occupy the entire kitchen as he leaned against the counter. “For as long as you need.”

The promise should have been comforting, but something about this place, about being so far removed from everything, made me feel…trapped. Ironic because I’d just escaped one cell only to feel boxed in another smaller, grossly dirtier one.

Maybe I was just tired.

Maybe I was overthinking things.

Maybe I was missing that plush, oversized bed across the hall from Kreed’s room.

I sat on the couch, cradling the tea, exhaustion pulling at me. “Thanks, Rusty.” I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me.

His lips lifted in a small, tired smile. “There’s a bedroom down the hall. I’ll take the couch. Get some sleep, kiddo. We’ll figure out what happens next after you’ve rested.”

A yawn pulled at the corners of my mouth, and I nearly told Rusty to take the bedroom.

Getting up again sounded like a chore when it would be so much easier to curl up right here on the couch, but I took my tea and ordered my body to move.

I barely made it to the bedroom before the burden of everything crashed down on me.

The tea was still warm in my hands as I tucked myself beneath the thin blanket fully dressed, my body finally surrendering.

For the first time in days, sleep claimed me fast and hard. And for the first time in weeks, I didn’t dream.

I woke up groggy, my head fogged with sleep, and my eyes blurry with tears. Blinking them away, I stared at the unfamiliar wooden ceiling, trying to shake off the heaviness pressing down on me. Crying in my sleep wasn’t a new concept, and I doubted it would stop anytime soon. Especially now.

How long had I been out?