Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3) (20 page)

I twisted the combination into the lock and yanked it free. As I pulled the door open, I was met with a bizarre sight. Plastered on every surface of the interior of the locker were various sizes of the red and white ski patrol cross. A choked sound caught in my throat as my heart rate tripled in seconds. A single letter dangled from the top by a string, swinging with the fresh movement.

With a shaky hand, I snatched it free.

#4

Back for more?

I landed hard on the bench as my legs gave out from under me. I was barely aware of Janet pulling the letter from my hands and cursing.

Even though I knew logically I was descending into a panic attack, I could do nothing to stop it. All the will and bravery in the world wouldn’t have been able to stop that spiral. My vision narrowed on all sides, tunneling into a small circle focused solely on the dark interior of the locker in front of me.

A buzzing sensation traveled from the base of my neck all the way up the back of my head. Every fiber of my body screamed
PANIC, RUN, DANGER
, yet I sat there frozen on the spot. My chest tightened, and I gasped for a satisfying breath, craving just one that could completely fill my lungs.

“Liz, we need to get you out of here,” Janet said firmly in my ear. She gave me a shake which at least unglued me from the bench.

Walking back to the car on trembling legs, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were running from someone. I felt the eyes on me, the omniscient, hateful gaze of whoever wanted to kill me. I had to stop myself from breaking into a sprint. I practically launched myself into the passenger side of her car like we were running from a robbery. That’s when I realized I was sobbing and on the verge of hyperventilating.

“It’s all right, we’re going home. It’s okay. You’re safe, everything is fine, Liz.” Janet continued to soothe me the entire way to the house while I fought to regain some sort of composure.

The second we pulled into the driveway, I jumped from the car and flew inside. I heard both Josh and Bryan call out in surprise as I sprinted down the hallway. There were no coherent thoughts in my mind. Only the need to be somewhere dark, small, secure.

I threw myself into the small closet in our bedroom, flinging a full suitcase out like it weighed nothing to make room. I slammed the door shut, and balled myself up into the tight corner.

I think I heard Bryan call my name once, but through my ringing ears and sobs, I couldn’t be sure.

I don’t know how long I sat in that dark closet. I’d pulled a couple sweatshirts down from the small shelves and held them on the side of my head. The only sound was that of my thudding heartbeat, the
whoosh
of blood in my ears. As my adrenaline finally wore off, I may have even dozed for a short time. That crash was no joke.

No matter how many times I experienced them, panic attacks always left me feeling like I’d been ridden hard and put away wet. In those horrible moments, my body literally believes I’m standing on the precipice between life and death. Once that switch is flipped, no amount of convincing from my brain will stop the panic cycle from playing out. Drugs had left me feeling flat and detached from reality. It’s only after years of therapy that I’d learned how to lessen the length of the attack and recover, but it meant I was still vulnerable in the first place.

After a while, I finally found the courage to crawl towards the door and rejoin the world of the living. I opened the door a crack, and immediately saw Bryan sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the foot of the bed. He lifted his head and smiled weakly as I swung the door open, and traveled the few feet towards him on my hands and knees.

“Oh baby,” he whispered as I crawled into his arms. I slipped my arms around his neck and rolled into a tight ball in his lap. Hooking his arm under my knees, he gently kissed the top of my head. “You’re safe. It’s gonna be okay. Just breathe. I’m here. Talk when you’re ready.”

I don’t know what I would do without him
, I thought as I nuzzled into his neck.
He’s the glue that keeps me together.

Bryan smoothed my hair and held me until I felt capable of speech. “Did Janet call the police?” I whispered.

“Probably, I have no idea. I came straight in here. I don’t even know what’s happened. I didn’t want to leave you.”

I shifted away, and we both stretched out the kinks and tight muscles from sitting in that cramped position for so long. He grimaced as he straightened his knee out.

“I’m sorry,” I frowned. “I should just make a tent on the bed so you can join me instead of hiding on the floor.” I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. “It was another letter… well, the whole locker was the letter.”

“What number?”

“Four. Guess I’ve missed a couple now. It’s too bad. The collection is worthless unless it’s complete,” I snickered. “I guess I’m not in as much control as I thought.”

Bryan’s expression relaxed a smidge at my humor. “Are you feeling up to talking with Josh and Janet? He came over earlier to talk about what you wanted your announcement to be.”

“My announcement?” I frowned.

“In case you decide to pull out of the race,” he replied cautiously.

That’s a good possibility
, I thought sadly. “Yeah, figured… sure, let’s go talk. I think today might be a good day for a little spiked coffee, don’t you think?”

With his arm around my waist, Bryan led me down to the kitchen where Janet and Josh were chatting.

“There she is,” Janet smiled. “Feeling better?”

“I will once I get a little whiskey with a splash of coffee,” I replied weakly.

Like every time after a panic attack, I felt spacey and fuzzy, like all the edges in the world around me had been rounded down. I’m sure it was something chemical in my brain, but it only added to the disorienting nature of my PTSD. It made the whole experience seem even more disconnected from the real world.

Josh glanced at Bryan and Janet before speaking. “We were just discussing the possibility of you…”

“Me pulling out of the race. Yeah, I figured. Did you call the cops?” I asked Janet.

“Yeah, right after we got here. They’re up at the mountain now.”

“Good,” I grumbled. The three of them exchanged looks again, which spiked my temper. “I’m sitting right here, guys. Let’s talk about it if we’re gonna talk about it.”

“Well, I was thinking you could go in a number of directions. The media has already picked up on the stalker thread, which could play sympathetically,” Josh started.

“But we don’t want to draw any more attention to that than we have to,” Bryan cut in. He set down the spiked coffee as he spoke. I greedily sipped at it, pleased to taste he hadn’t skimped on the whiskey.

“True. It’s really how you want to come at it. The last thing you want is for this to somehow get twisted around as guilt over Nicole’s crash,” Josh replied. “I’ve seen worse happen.”

“But no matter what we come out and say, everyone will know the reason. Does it really matter what we say?” Janet asked.

The three of them continued to discuss me as if I wasn’t sitting there in front of them. I didn’t mind. With the race so close, I knew we needed to make a decision quickly, and I wasn’t in the right mental state to do it. I trusted them to make the right choice.

I was at war with myself. I didn’t want the last few years of training and preparation to be for naught, but I was so easily spooked I didn’t think I could concentrate on anything but the consuming fear. It was like my body wanted to race, but my brain was trying to shut it all down.

How do you explain that to three people who are doing their best to be sympathetic but have no idea what it’s really like?

I idly flicked my phone open without anyone noticing.
Maybe Dad’s written back
, I thought as I checked my email. I knew it was difficult for him to get to a computer during deployment, but I wanted so desperately to hear from him. And just as I was starting to feel better, the walls of my world came crashing in yet again.

Amid the spam and other junk in my inbox waited an email I instantly recognized as from my evil follower.

Subject: #2

My finger hovered over the subject as I hesitated to open it. With my heart beating in my throat again, the adrenaline pumping like I’d just jumped off a cliff, I pressed it.

Peek-a-boo, I see you…

At the bottom of the message was a hyperlink to a Tumblr account. I knew I shouldn’t click on it. I knew, deep inside, I should’ve set the phone down and pushed it away, telling someone in that room to take care of it. Despite the fear, the temptation was strong. Even though I was terrified out of my mind, I needed to know what she’d sent.

The page loaded, and at first I didn’t understand what I was looking at. Many of the photos were blurry and poorly framed. Ignoring the terrible filters she’d applied, I realized what they were. Candid, secret, private photos of me. Through windows, from a distance on the mountain, at the lodge bar. Those were creepy enough, but there were ones from inside the house, our private space. I completely lost my composure when I focused on a photo of me sitting on the bed, the shot taken through a crack in the bedroom door.

My expression contorted as I threw the phone like it’d bitten me. All eyes snapped to me in surprise as I sent the device skittering across the counter.

“You need to call the police. Now.” I surprised myself with how calm I sounded despite the deep emotional fissures breaking apart inside.

I calmly stood, downed the rest of my coffee-flavored whiskey, and walked into the living room. I completely wrapped myself in a blanket and curled up on the sofa. Head, feet, heart, and what was left of my crumbling sense of security, all safely bundled inside the thick wool. It was barely 9 a.m. and I was completely done with the world for the day.

The police arrived in record time. Speaking in hushed voices, I heard Bryan explain to Henry that I was in the living room existing as a pile of blankets for the foreseeable future.

“She’s not coping too well, eh?” Henry said in a booming whisper.

“Under the circumstances… I think she’s doing amazing,” Bryan replied.

I wanted to dissolve into the sofa, let the blanket consume me in its warm security and never let me go. I didn’t care that my behavior might come across as childish. Those unbelievably violating photos showed me there was no safe place left in the world. Whoever was doing this, Paige, one of Rick’s old buddies… the boundaries were dangerously blurred and I wasn’t sure I would ever feel secure again.

The murmur of conversation in the background was soothing. It reminded me of when I was a little girl falling asleep in the backseat of the car while my parents drove. My mom was still alive then and Dad was still happy. Their conversation flowed over me wordlessly, their voices and tone lulling me into a sense of security. I clung to that feeling, trying to put my trust in the people in the other room who were desperate to keep me safe. Trying and failing.

I don’t have to worry. The adults will take care of it.

Footsteps. A hand on my shoulder. “Liz, sweetie. The police need you to look at some photos, and see if you recognize anyone,” Bryan said softly.

I pulled the blanket from my face, wiping the hair clear as well. “Of who?”