Home > Black Ice(33)

Black Ice(33)
Author: Becca Fitzpatrick

He started to shine the flashlight on me, thought better, and instead of blinding me, asked, "Are you okay?"

"No."

"You're hurt?"There was evident alarm in his voice. "Just because I'm not hurt doesn't mean I'm okay."

He hiked uphill, approaching me cautiously. He circled me, scrutinizing me for injuries. His eyes fell on the ground, to my stolen provisions.

"You took a canteen and headlamp,” he said, sounding almost impressed. Which made me feel a strange mix of pride and irritation. Of course I'd grabbed what I could. I wasn't helpless.

And then his voice turned serious, admonishing. "Three hours. That's how long you would have lasted out here on your own, Britt. Less, if this storm turns severe."

"I'm not going back."I sat in the snow, cementing my position. "You'd rather die out here?"

"You're going to kill me anyway."

"I'm not going to let Shaun kill you."

I snapped my chin up. "Why should I believe you? You're a criminal. You belong in prison. I hope the police catch you and send you away for life. You didn't stop Shaun from killing the game warden or shooting that cop. Or from killing that girl in the cabin,” I went on, before I could stop myself. I hadn't meant to tell Mason that I knew about the dead body, but it was too late for secrets now.

Mason's brows pulled together. "What girl?"

His confusion seemed genuine, but he was a good liar. And damned if I was going to let him fool me again. "The storage room at the cabin, the one you forced me to stay in. There was a large toolbox with a dead body inside. You really expect me to believe you know nothing about it?"

A brittle pause.

"Did you tell Shaun about the body?" Mason asked, his voice unnaturally cool and calm. But his whole body had gone rigid, tight as a knot.

"Why? Did you kill her?" Cold dread trickled into my veins. "You didn't tell Shaun."

"And I don't know why I didn't!" I fired back, as nervous as I was distraught. Had Mason killed her? I'd seen glimpses of a nicer guy, but maybe I'd been wrong. Maybe all along I'd let a few kind gestures distract me from seeing his true character. "You were never going to let me live, not from the first moment."

"I'm not going to kill you. And neither is Shaun-I won't let him."

"Really,” I breathed wrathfully. "Do you hear how stupid and empty that promise sounds? Shaun has the gun. He's in control. You're-nothing more than his pathetic lackey!"

Instead of taking offense, Mason watched me closely, as if trying to figure out my true frame of mind.

"Stand up,” he said at last. "Your clothes are getting wet and your body temperature is going to drop."

"So? Let me die. I'm not going to help you off the mountain. I'm done helping you and Shaun. You can't force me to do it. I'm useless to you. Just let me go."

Mason hoisted me to my feet, swatting snow off my clothes. "Where's the tough little girl from before? The girl who wanted to backpack the Teton Range, damn the odds stacked against her?" "I'm not her anymore. I want to go home,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. I missed my dad and Ian. They must be so worried about me.

"Pull yourself together,” Mason instructed me. "You've been tested physically-now you have to be mentally tough. We're going back to the outpost. We're going to pretend like nothing happened. We won't tell Shaun. In the morning, you're going to get us off the mountain, and then we'll let you go."

I shook my head no.

"I'll carry you if I have to, but I'm not letting you die out here,” Mason said.

"Don't touch me."

He flipped his palms up. "Then start walking.”

”You're really not going to let me go, are you?"

"Go where? Into the forest, during a blizzard, where you'll freeze to death? No."

"I hate you,” I said miserably.

"Yeah, you said that. Let's go."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The walk downhill to the ranger patrol cabin should have been far easier than the climb I'd just made, but each step felt heavier than the last. I had failed. Mason promised to keep my secret, but what assurance did I have that Shaun wouldn't be pacing the floor with his gun when we made it back? I could be marching to my own slaughter.

I'd witnessed Mason trying to stop Shaun from shooting the game warden-I was sure that was his intent when he lunged for the gun-and maybe he was a better person than I was giving him credit for. But it didn't matter where Mason drew the line between right and wrong. Shaun had the gun.

And there was the girl's body back at the cabin. I didn't know who had killed her, but the way Mason had reacted when I'd told him about it didn't sit well with me. He was keeping something from me, and from Shaun too, it seemed.

At last the patrol cabin appeared out of the darkness. I was almost to the front porch, when I found myself flying backward as Mason yanked me toward him. His gloved hand clamped over my mouth, and for one wild moment, I thought he was trying to suffocate me. His breath panted in my ear, his body a stiff wall at my back.

The patrol cabin's front door was open, Calvin's voice drifting through it.

My heart accelerated. Calvin. Here He'd found me!

"Where are they?" Calvin demanded from out of sight.

"I don't know what you're talking about,” Shaun answered sulkily.

Mason scooped me up, immune to my kicking and thrashing, and hauled me silently to the top of the porch steps. we could view both men through the kitchen window. Calvin must have surprised Shaun in his sleep, because he held him at gunpoint. I didn't recognize the gun. Calvin must have brought it with him from Idlewilde; I knew the Versteegs kept guns at the cabin. Shaun's gun was nowhere in sight. To my dismay, a lamp had been turned on in the living room, making it impossible for Calvin to see me on the other side of the kitchen window-it was far too dark outside by comparison. If he glanced this way, he'd only see the cabin's interior reflected in the windowpane.

I tried to scream his name, but Mason's glove crushed my mouth ruthlessly. I kicked at his shins, my heel colliding with bone before he shoved me against the outer wall with shocking force. I'd sorely underestimated his strength, and found myself outmatched; his free hand captured both my wrists, and he dug his knee into the flesh at the back of my leg, until I couldn't stand the pain any longer and went limp. He took advantage of this unguarded moment to grind his body viciously against mine, trapping me between him and the cabin. My cheek was shoved up against the icy shutter, and I strained to see Calvin through the window.

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