Mary Ellen Porter - Off The Grid Christmas

“Its working condition is not irrelevant.”

“It works.” They’d reached the brush, and she skirted past him. Not an easy feat considering his size, but there was no way she was letting him drive them out. She knew the trail. She knew the bike. She’d be the driver.

She brushed his hands from the handlebars and climbed on, balancing the bike as she scanned the dark path and the beach below. The light was still there. Farther away and moving at a steady pace, parallel to the shore. Whoever it was wouldn’t find a way up from there, but night vision goggles and a long-range rifle could make a long-distance kill easy.

GeoArray wanted her alive. For now. That was one thing she had in her favor.

Kane, on the other hand, was simply in the way.

Her phone chirped, the sound chilling her blood.

“They’re in,” she muttered.

Kane climbed on the bike, wrapping his left arm low around her waist. “Just be careful,” he warned. “The temperature’s dropped and the snow’s crusted over with ice. If we wreck, it’s over.”

“Warning duly noted.” Arden zipped her jacket up to her chin, completely covering Sebastian. She didn’t need Kane to tell her to be cautious. Wrecking the bike and getting herself caught was not on her agenda. Seeing her brother’s business partner—one of his closest friends—killed wasn’t, either.

She was sorry Kane had been dragged into this, but she wasn’t surprised her brothers called for reinforcements. Grayson and Jace were cut from the same cloth, both willing to do anything to help those they cared about. It would be hypocritical to fault them for that. After all, that’s how she ended up in this mess in the first place. Of course, Juniper Westin wasn’t just anyone. She was Arden’s best friend, the sister Arden had never had.

They’d met halfway through first grade. Juniper had walked into the classroom, and Arden had known they were kindred spirits—two oddball mavericks sitting in a room filled with average Joes.

The whispering had started right away, and Arden had felt the overwhelming need to stand up for the new girl the way she’d always had to stand up for herself. It wasn’t Juniper’s glasses or curly black hair that had all the kids talking; it wasn’t her light brown skin—even though there hadn’t been many kids of color in their elementary school.

No, it was the dark purple bruise on her cheek that accompanied the healing split on her lip. And the too-big sweater she’d had on with well-worn jeans that were almost too short. Jeans that had bright red patches with pink hearts carefully sewn on the knees. During recess, Robby Dixon had laughed at her for those hearts, and Arden had done the only thing she thought she could. She’d punched him right in the middle of his smug face. She’d earned herself a three-day suspension, the respect of every kid in the school and a life-long friend.

Since then, she and Juniper had been through good times and bad times together. There was nothing Arden wouldn’t do for her friend—including hacking into GeoArray’s secured network—which, unfortunately, had led to this.

Kane leaned in, his breath tickling her ear. “I just saw a light go on in the house. If we’re getting out of here, now’s the time to do it.”

“Right.” She cranked the engine, the sudden roar drowning out the sound of the surf. No doubt everyone within a mile radius had heard. She gunned the motor, and the bike charged forward, speeding through the narrow space between old shrubs, bits of leaves and branches breaking off as she raced along the trail.

To Kane’s credit, he had no problem holding on and keeping his balance. He didn’t shout instructions or tell her to watch out for the rocks and debris that littered the narrow trail.

And he’d been right about the ice. It coated everything. The bike’s nearly threadbare tires barely held on as she sped around a curve.

She thought she heard shouting, but she couldn’t be certain. The engine was too loud, the wind too wild. They’d be at the parking area soon. It was a small lot used by a few seasonal residents whose cliff-side cottages weren’t easily accessible by car. It was mostly unused this time of year. Her Jeep was there. Kane’s vehicle must be, too. She wasn’t sure they’d be able to get to either of them. GeoArray’s thugs probably had the area staked out.

“Pull off here,” Kane shouted.

She almost ignored him.

She wanted off the trail and on the open road. The more distance they put between themselves and their pursuers, the better. Then again, if guys with guns were waiting in the parking lot below, she’d have to drive straight into their trap before she could get out on the road.

She coasted to a stop and cut the engine, her pulse racing.

“Is there another way out?” Kane asked, his voice tight.

“We can head up the bluff.” She nodded toward the south and the scraggly pines that dotted a steep hill. She’d walked there a couple of days ago, trying to clear her mind after hours in front of the computer. “But I don’t know how far we can take the bike. The terrain’s steep and icy and the bike’s tires have definitely seen better days. We need a vehicle, and mine’s in the lot.”

“I parked off the street. About a half-mile from the lot.”

A light flashed at the head of the trail, there and gone so quickly Arden would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking in that direction.

“A signal,” Kane muttered. “They’re going to try to trap us. Can we make it to the road, or should we ditch the bike and try to make it out quietly? You know the area best. It’s your call, Arden, but make the right choice. We’re probably outmanned and outgunned.”

“We can make it out on the bike.” It would take a little finesse and a whole lot of guts, but their odds were better on the bike than walking out.

She started the engine and took off again, leaving the trail and bouncing onto ice-coated grass, speeding between spindly pine trees as she raced up the bluff and toward freedom.

* * *

Kane had been in a lot of dangerous situations, but riding on an ancient motorbike behind a woman who seemed more daredevil than computer whiz was right up at the top of his list of experiences he never wanted to repeat.

He was concerned about the icy conditions, Arden’s driving skills and the fact that whoever was after her might have already spotted his rented Chevy Tahoe. It was unlikely, though. He’d parked behind a small copse of trees, and the vehicle would be difficult to spot from the road.

Still, if the people who were after Arden were as desperate as she seemed to believe, they might have been scoping out the area, looking for signs that someone besides Arden was around.

The bike bounced over an exposed root, and he tightened his grip on Arden’s waist. He’d have preferred to drive, but this arrangement left his gun hand free. Arden navigated the rocky, snow-covered bluff with surprising ease.

Kane leaned forward, his chest pressing against Arden’s backpack. The wind whipped at strands of hair peeking out from her hat, the soft tendrils brushing against his cheek.

She slowed as they reached the crest of the hill. Even at this speed the cold air was merciless on their exposed skin and eyes. They needed to get to the Chevy. He had a duffel of supplies there, hats and gloves, an extra jacket.

His work required preparedness, and he’d tried to think of all the possibilities when he’d set off to find Arden. He’d been hoping to be a few steps ahead of whoever was after her, but the army that was following her seemed to have a lot of tech power behind it—they’d been able to access the PetID database and register the hit on the microchip just as he had. They also had at least some knowledge of Arden’s private life. Kane had only known about her cat and its microchip because Grayson had told him. Was it possible someone Arden knew well had set her up?