Page 1 of The Secrets We Share

ONE

KEIRA

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

Two 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’sstill 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.

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