Page 21 of Velvet Betrayal
Eventually, the engine growled to life. They backed down the drive slow, not even bothering to check for prints.
That told me the only thing I needed to know: that they’d found what they were looking for…and they’d be back.
I waited another ten seconds. Then I circled back around the side of the house, fist stiff from the cold as I knocked twice—sharp, then soft.
Ruby cracked the back door. “Are they gone?”
“Yes,” I said. “But we’ve been made. We have to go.”
I didn’t say it out loud, but I was already calculating—routes, fuel, food, fallback shelters. No time for pancakes. No time for a last snowball fight. If those two weren’t the solution, they were the preview. Someone meaner would be next. Someone official. Someone who got paid by the body.
That’s how you lost people.
Ruby stepped back to let me in. I shut the door behind me and locked it fast, already pulling the curtain to check the window. The taillights had disappeared, but the wind hadn’t changed. Still biting. Still sharp. I didn’t trust it.
“We leave now,” I said. “I’ll take the ATV down the lower trail. It’s not registered, won’t ping anything.”
Ruby was already moving. “Is it running?”
“It’ll run.”
It wasn’t. Not yet. But I’d make it. If I had to hotwire the damn thing with my teeth and a jump box, I’d make it run.
“Five minutes,” I said. “Pack warm layers. Nothing traceable. Grab the red pack from the hall closet. Leave the rest.”
Rosie’s voice piped up from the landing, bright and excited. “Is this the secret part of the adventure?”
“Yeah,” I said, plastering a smile on my face. “This is thesupersecret part. You remember what we practiced?”
She nodded, solemn now. “Quiet as a fox.”
“That’s my girl.”
Ruby went still. Just for a second…but she didn’t call me on it.
She just grabbed the go-bag and said, “Five minutes, then let’s go on an adventure.”
Kieran
Rosie weighed almost nothing, but the snow made it a slog. I carried her anyway, arms burning, Ruby close behind. She’d wanted to do it herself, but the drifts kept tripping her up—so when I offered, and Rosie launched herself into my arms like a missile, Ruby didn’t argue. She just gave me a look that could’ve curdled blood and let it go.
The shed was half-buried at the edge of the yard, shadowed by a dense copse of birch trees. I set Rosie down gently, crouched so we were eye to eye. “You’re killing it,” I whispered. “Just hang tight, okay?”
Rosie nodded, but her mouth twitched like she was about to break into a giggle. For her, this was a game…and that made me feel relieved and terrified all at once. The world wasn’t safe for Callahans…and she was a Callahan. But she was also akid, and she deserved to be a kid.
Fuck.
Fuck, being a parent was fucking hard.
I primed the ATV, flipped the choke, thumbed the starter. Nothing. Again. Third try, and the engine finally roared to life—loud, guttural, smelling like oil and grit.
“Get on,” I barked, already swinging a leg over the seat. Rosie was light as a snowflake when I lifted her, wedging her between us, puffer jacket stiff with cold. Ruby climbed on behind me, hands on my shoulders for balance.
“Hold on,” I said—and gunned it.
The back wheels fishtailed as we hit the packed trail. Not ideal. The tires had chains, but not much bite—just enough to keep us moving forward instead of spinning out. The snow was powder over frozen dirt, which helped, but I still had to wrestle the handlebars through every bend like we were dragging the weight of our past behind us.
Rosie squealed, delighted. Ruby didn’t. One hand locked tight around my ribs, the other braced on the seat. Every time we jolted, I felt her brace harder.
