Home > Black Ice(19)

Black Ice(19)
Author: Becca Fitzpatrick

"It would be easier if I went with you.”

”No,” Shaun repeated firmly.

Sweat dampened my skin. My chance was slipping away. If I didn't find Calvin before we hiked into the forest, I would probably die out there. Just as worrisome, Shaun was going to figure out I'd lied about the insulin. The whole story was unraveling.

I could give Mason the wrong directions to the Wrangler, but if I sent him wandering for hours, Shaun would know I'd tricked him. I didn't have any option but to tell him where the car was.

And devise a backup lie. When Mason returned without the insulin, I would say that I must have forgotten to pack it. I would suddenly remember having left it on my kitchen counter at home. Maybe it was better this way. If they didn't think they had the medication to save Korbie, they'd be more likely to leave her behind. Especially if they believed she was going to die anyway. In fact, Shaun might think that he wouldn't be pinned for Korbie's murder if she died of natural causes.

"If you're facing the cabin, we approached from the left,” I said. "Cut through the trees until you reach the main road. Follow it downhill to my car."

"I should be able to follow your footprints most of the way,” Mason said. "Snow's coming down hard, but I'll be able to tell where it's been disturbed."

After Mason left, Shaun pointed a warning finger at me. "Stay here and don't make noise. I need to think."

He turned the storage room light off, but left the door cracked. I stood alone, willing myself not to cry. My breath came in short, erratic pants, and I bit down on my fist to muffle the sound. A far-off worry was beginning to creep into the back of my mind. What if I couldn't convince Shaun to leave Korbie behind? If he dragged her along, she'd never make it. Even if she could withstand the rigorous and dangerous hike to the highway, I feared her personality would push Shaun to lash out violently.

I blinked my eyes dry, sniffing until I felt composed. I had to be smart. My best tool now was my brain. I had to use this time to evaluate my situation.

I went over everything I knew about Mason and Shaun. Shaun had a gun. That meant he was the ringleader. Or did it? Mason didn't seem the lackey type. I didn't have a good read on their friendship. I felt a strained push and pull between them, an unwilling juggle of power. Most of the time Mason let Shaun have his way. But not out of fear. I saw the way Mason watched Shaun when Shaun wasn't looking at him. The icy glint in his eyes ran deeper than contempt. Derision maybe. And I could be imagining it, but he seemed to calculate Shaun's every move, almost like he was hunting for weaknesses and storing the information to use later. But why?

Through the door, I caught glimpses of Shaun as he paced in front of the dying fire. He'd put on a black cowboy hat, a Stetson, tilting it to shade his eyes. Maybe it was a reach, but I couldn't help remembering that Lauren Huntsman had supposedly disappeared from Jackson Hole with a cowboy wearing a black Stetson. The idea that Shaun could be that man caused a violent chill to shudder through me.

I watched Shaun march back and forth, chewing at a hangnail on the thumb of his left hand. His shoulders were hunched, his legs stiff, the muscles of his jaw clenched in concentration. He looked tightly wound.

Like he might snap at any moment.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I'd drifted asleep.

Rolling slowly to my knees, I cringed at the soreness spiking along my shoulder, down through my hip. The cement floor provided no comfort or warmth. Wiping drool at the corner of my mouth, I shivered violently. The storage room door had been shut, leaving me in darkness. A frigid draft from the thin windowpane prickled my skin. Snow was still coming down, but not the big, swirling flakes of earlier; now tiny grains drilled into the window like hurled sand.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but the sky was full dark. I didn't hear Shaun pacing the den. I didn't hear Korbie's quiet sobs from the bathroom.

To keep my mind busy, and not focus on how scared I was, I mentally went over the cabin layout, what I'd seen of it anyway, and took stock of escape routes. The front door was the only exit I knew of to the outside, and it was at the opposite end of the cabin. I'd have to run down the hall and get Korbie, then backtrack through the den and down the entryway hall, all without Shaun hearing or seeing me. plus, I didn't know where Shaun had put our coats. We wouldn't last long in the storm without them. And even if we made it outside, where would we go? No one would be driving in these conditions there would be no one to help us.

I wondered if Shaun had gone outside to look for Mason. Or maybe he'd fallen asleep. I wondered if I should take my chance and run now.

I was about to press my ear to the door and listen for Shaun, when it opened.

Shaun held a metal folding chair in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. He sank into the chair and stared at me, his face twisted into a scowl.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He pointed his finger at me, his lips twitching in anger. "Don't you talk to me."

Any chill I'd felt vanished; immediately, sweat popped out on my skin. Shaun's mouth formed a downward seam, and those slotted eyes. They were glazed with hatred. He flung the door shut, and my heart started pounding so hard I was sure we'd both hear it.

He took a slug of beer and continued to glare at me. "Mason's not back."

I hesitated, not sure he really wanted me to speak. "How long has it been?" I asked carefully.

"Over three hours. It's after one in the morning. Did you lie to me, Britt? Did you lie about where you left your car?"

"Maybe he got lost,” I quickly offered. "Maybe the gear is heavy and it's slowing him down."

"He took a sled. The gear's not the problem.”

”If you had let me go with him-"

Shaun was out of his chair so fast I didn't see him coming. His hand lashed out at my throat, propelling me backward. He shoved me against the wall. I was so startled, it took a few moments for the pain to sink in. As I scratched frantically at his hand, his knuckles dug harder into the soft underside of my jaw, cutting off my airway. The room blurred at the edges.

"You lied."

He eased up enough for me to gasp air. It wheezed down my throat. I shook my head no, no, no.

"If Mason's lost, it's because you sent him the wrong way. He's out there looking for a car that's miles away. Isn't that right, Britt? Thought you'd level the playing field? Take him out so it's you and Korbie against me? Maybe you're stupider than I thought, pulling something like that."

I wrenched at his hands, trying to tear them off my neck. I couldn't breathe. I didn't know if he'd kill me. I was terrified he might.

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