Her mouth went dry. The cold in her stomach wasn’t from the night air but sheer terror. Run! She could crawl into the bushes or run down the gravel path into the darkness of the park. I need to hide.
No. Her friends were in there. Her bestie, Frankie. Audrey was pregnant.
I have to help, to do something. But she had no phone; she’d never bought one. She was so stupid!
She tried to turn the door handle, and it wouldn’t move. Of course not. The patio wasn’t open to customers, yet. It was just for an emergency exit; the door had locked behind her.
Dammit.
Heart thudding painfully hard, she looked around frantically, already knowing the left side of the building had the most bushes.
That way.
She crept around the corner and along the log wall toward the parking lot. In the dark, she peeked through the window into the bar.
Men—so many men—with guns. In the center stood a tall, thin black-bearded man…and Kit froze, unable to even breathe.
Nabera. Oh no, please no.
The PZ men were using zip ties and rope to tie up the women, then pushing them out the front door.
She couldn’t let them take her friends.
The thought got her feet moving. In the shadows, she crept to the front of the building and peered around the corner.
A white cargo van was backed up to the covered front entry. A man dragged a struggling Erica out and tossed her into the cargo space. When white-haired Lillian was roughly shoved in, fury engulfed Kit.
Focus, Kit. She could almost hear Hawk’s warning.
“That’s the last,” the man said to someone, then slammed the van door shut. “All yours, Luka.”
“On it.” One of the lieutenants, Luka had let his buzz-cut hair grow out to a couple of inches. Jumping in the driver’s seat, he started the engine, then leaned out to yell, “Ready, Captain.”
“Hold up while we do a final walk-through,” Nabera yelled.
At the sound of Nabera’s yell, Kit pressed her knuckles to her mouth to keep from whimpering. Her legs trembled so hard her knees started to buckle.
No. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—give in.
As fear sweat trickled down her back, she drew in a breath.
Situational awareness, sugar. Kit could almost hear Hawk’s voice. Mouth tight, she forced herself to look around.
And blinked in surprise.
Luka didn’t have any situational awareness. The lieutenant had his door open, his head tipped back. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel impatiently.
The van was running.
Everyone else was inside the building.
Oh, God, I can’t do this.
She had to.
Find a weapon.
The gravel path around the side of the building was bordered by softball-sized rocks. Hawk whispered in her mind, “Throw it. Or hit someone in the head with it.”
She wouldn’t let him down. Picking up a rock, she snuck to the side of the vehicle, any crunch of her steps on the gravel was masked by the women’s crying and groaning inside the van.
“For fuck’s sake.” Luka moved suddenly, and Kit froze. He turned toward the screened divider between the cargo area and the cab. “Bitches. Shut. Up.”
As he started to turn forward again, Kit swung the rock with all her might and hit him in the side of the head. The impact jolted her fingers so badly the rock dropped.
No seatbelt held him in, and the unconscious man tipped sideways.
She grabbed his shoulders. Sweet heavens, he was bleeding so bad.
Focus.
“Out you go,” she whispered. Gritting her teeth, she yanked him out onto the gravel. Climbing into the driver’s seat, she slammed the door.
Move, move, move.
She rammed the gearshift into drive, pushed the pedal for a trickle of gas, and rolled forward. Quietly.
The van was partway across the parking lot when a man came out of the roadhouse. “Luka, what the fuck!”
Kit stomped on the gas. The van rocketed forward, tires spitting gravel. The vehicle fishtailed at her hard turn onto Sweetgale, and screams came from the women in back.
Almost panting, Kit tried to think. The PZs would chase her. Where could she go?
No one would be at the police station if JJ wasn’t back—and it was only her, anyway. One person couldn’t defend against so many fanatics.
The town closed down at this hour. No one was around.
In despair, Kit tightened her hands on the steering wheel.
What about the Hermitage? They had guns.
Yes.
But she had to warn them. “Audrey, Frankie, Lillian—someone!”
“Kit?” It was Audrey’s voice. “Oh, God, Kit. Wait—you’re driving?”
Kit needed a second to get her voice to work again. “Yes, but they’ll chase us. I’m taking us to the Hermitage.” She gave a terrified glance at the side mirrors. Headlights appeared, coming out of the parking lot. “We need to warn the guys, and I don’t have a phone.”
“Who has a phone?” Sarah yelled.
“Me.” Audrey answered.
Kit found a breath and used it. Took a bigger one.
“Ma’am, your hands are tied in front,” Audrey was telling someone in back. “Can you get my phone from my back pocket?”
“I guess there’s a benefit of being so big my wrists won’t meet in back.” The woman’s voice was old and gruff. “Turn around.” A second later, she said, “Got it.”
“Hurry, hurry,” Kit whispered under her breath.
“Punch in 3-2-8-3 to unlock it,” Audrey instructed quickly. “Then hit the badge icon.”
A second later, Gabe’s voice sounded. “Goldilocks, how’s the party? Hawk should—”
Audrey’s voice rose. “Gabe, Nabera attacked the roadhouse. Kit’s driving a van to the Hermitage, and the PZs are—” Audrey’s hasty speech broke off at the sound of cars approaching from the rear. “Oh, God.”
“Nabera. Fuck.” Gabe low voice rose to a shout. “Men. Our women are coming in hot with PZ bastards chasing them. Bull, batten us down. Caz, get weapons out. Prepare for incoming.”
Kit glanced in the rearview mirror as the headlights in back came closer. There was a spatter of gunfire before she screeched left onto Swan Ave. Women in the back yelped in pain.
Seconds later, she turned left again onto the tiny dirt road leading to the Hermitage. She was very familiar with the road now.
First came the this-isn’t-the-road-you’re-looking-for corner. Almost, almost…
She slammed on the brakes, skidded, and slowed just enough to curve left around the virtual U-turn.
The SUV behind her couldn’t slow fast enough. Brakes squealed, as the vehicle spun out on the corner and slid into a tree with a horrendous bang.
Maybe it’d block the others.
Speeding up, Kit peeled down the gravel road. Past the forest, past Hawk’s landing strip.
“Tell Kit to pull into Mako’s garage.” That was Gabe’s voice on Audrey’s phone, loud enough for Kit to hear. He sounded impossibly calm.
“Got it,” Kit yelled back, heading for the last house.
Don’t drive into a ditch; keep it on the road.
Ugh. Wasn’t that fun? In the office bathroom, Frankie ran water to wash her face and then rinsed out her mouth. Double-ugh.