Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3) (23 page)

“What? Do I have an unlucky number or something?” I asked as I braided my hair into a low plait.

Janet’s brown eyes met mine. “It’s Angie again. How the hell did she get access to this?” she grumbled as I snatched the paper from her. “Damnit! After what she did to you girls, you’d think security at the mountain would be a little better. There’s enough of them walking around in jackets up there.”

The letter was similar to the others, only the handwriting felt different. It wasn’t rushed or scratched or scrawled. Each letter had been penned deliberately and with the utmost care.

#1

Face the facts… I’ve already won.

I read it twice and was shocked at my lack of response. In my mind, I imagined the petite model taunting me verbally. No longer were the letters from some shadowy monster. I simply didn’t find her threatening. She obviously had some real issues with my success and relationship with Bryan. Reaching the last letter, a part of me hoped she’d worked it out of her system. “Make sure the police get this. Like I need any more evidence to lock that crazy bitch up,” I chuckled as I handed it back.

Janet folded it in half and tucked it away, as if she wanted to shield me from it. I thought about explaining that Angie didn’t scare me. If anything, I felt incredibly sorry for her. How twisted does someone have to be to go to all this effort? I mean, Bryan is an amazing guy, but come on now. In the end, I was afraid it’d come out as overcompensating or covering my fear.

As I stepped into my boots, I felt invincible. Nothing was going to break through my confidence. Not Angie, not Nicole, not even my own self-doubt.
Today is my day
, I thought.

As a new skier, I was one of the first to race. While some might see that sort of positioning as a disadvantage, I figured it gave me a chance to race on a freshly groomed run. I wouldn’t have to wait all morning while other racers tore up the slopes, the sun working its magic on the snow. Racing last might mean you’re the best, but it came with having to ski on everyone else’s sloppy seconds.

Sitting in the gate, I went through the almost superstitious pattern of checking my boot buckles, clearing the snow from my skis. I adjusted my goggles and the helmet strap under my chin. My iPod was connected to the speaker system in the ear flaps of my helmet, a steady beat of techno pumping through.

I gingerly pushed forward to the edge of the gate and waited for the signal. A bizarre calm settled over me. It was like the anticipation, while normally chaotic and frenzied, became pinpointed and focused. For the next couple minutes, nothing else in the world mattered except me, the snow, and getting from Point A to Point B as quickly as I could.

Before I knew it, the five second beeps began to sound. With my poles firmly planted in the snow, I thrust forward with all my strength. By getting good forward momentum before my shins made contact with the trigger, I’d have a legitimate jump out of the gate.

I quickly got up to speed, tucking right into the first tight corner. The course opened out in front of me, the perfect lines I’d visualized as clear to me as if they’d been painted on the snow. Dancing between the blue stained boundaries, my mind completely cleared. I became almost mechanical. My body shifted and swayed in perfect synchronization. Everything clicked into place at that exact moment. The edges of my skis carved beautifully into the hard-packed snow, gliding from side to side as I shifted my weight. I entered a genuine state of flow.

As I lifted from a small jump, the end of the course came into view. Even at such a high speed, I could hear the roar of the crowd, the incessant ringing of cowbells. I tucked into the smallest, tightest ball I could to lessen my drag and let momentum take me through the finish. I leaned over the line, grabbed whatever fractions of a second I could.

I didn’t even want to look at the time. Adrenaline and endorphins mixed together in my system, bringing me as close to euphoria as I’d ever experienced. I held onto the moment as I skated to a stop. It was the most complete feeling of happiness and contentment, I didn’t want it ruined by a terrible time.

But with the crowd erupting into cheers around me, I couldn’t resist any longer.

2:15:07

Holy shit.

I threw my arms up in the air and let out a loud whoop of excitement. That time was better than anything I could’ve possibly hoped for. I knew the run had felt good but… whoa. It was incredible.

I didn’t know what to do with myself, I was so excited. I clicked out of my skis and threw them over my shoulder and broke into a jog. My skin was absolutely buzzing as I walked towards the edge of the crowd. Like a blur, Janet broke through and rushed out, nearly toppling me over.

“I can’t believe you!” she screamed as she hugged my waist. Her enthusiasm mirrored my own minus the shock. I could almost feel the cameras train on us as we celebrated, but I didn’t care. Even if my time got obliterated as the morning went on, at least I had this moment to feel like a winner.

“Come on, let’s go in. I’m gonna pee like a scared Chihuahua and you’re probably gonna have to help me get my suit off. My hands are shaking too much,” I laughed.

Once inside, the world returned to a relative calm. I threw on some sweats to keep my muscles warm, and we grabbed a spot inside where a live feed streamed on several TVs for the other racers. The room was nearly empty with most of the competitors still on the top of the mountain waiting to come down.

“You see Bryan yet?” I asked as I sipped at a rehydrating drink.

“Nope, it’s not surprising though. I figured he’d want to lay low on race day. I’m sure he’s here somewhere, but he doesn’t want to distract you.”

I nodded. He’d said as much a few times before, but for some reason I hadn’t been prepared. I expected to see him at the bottom, the loudest person cheering.
I’m sure he’ll be there at the end of the slalom
, I thought.

As we watched the race unfold on the television, my excitement started to wear off. It was quickly replaced with a detached sense of shock. Racer after racer crossed the line, yet my time stood strong. They weren’t even close. Full, fat seconds of padding between my time and theirs. I tried not to get hopeful, but as the room filled and my time remained at the top of the board, I couldn’t help but get excited. Of course, the best skiers were still at the top, waiting to come down, itching to smash my record.

I transformed into a fidgeting mess. After an hour sitting in that room, I finally caved and called Bryan, but it went to voicemail. Listening to his recorded voice, I couldn’t help but feel a little vexed. It’s never a good feeling to know when someone has screened your call, but I figured he was doing it to help keep my head focused.
But just because it worked for him on race day, doesn’t mean…

“Ugh. Men,” I grunted, tossing the phone back to Janet.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “He’s here, don’t worry.”

Focusing on Bryan gave me the sort of mental distance I needed to cope with the stress of the race, powerless to do anything but wait. So I pouted and watched the last two women bump me into third place. I entered the slalom section with more than a respectable time for a new competitor. A few of the other racers congratulated me as they filtered out of the room, but it still didn’t feel real.

In a haze, I warmed up, slipping my arms back into the suit and zipping it to my neck. The biting cold felt refreshing against my skin and in my lungs. A small crowd clustered around the gondola, a path loosely protected by staff to allow the racers up. There was a brief moment I thought about Angie maybe lurking in the tightly packed mob, but I shook it away.

Janet handed me my second set of skis, my poles, and helped pin my race number back on. “Don’t over think. It’s like a Magic Eye poster. Just look through the course, and you’ll see the route you have to take.”

“So, your final coaching advice is to go cross-eyed? Brave move, let’s see how that’ll work out for me,” I quipped. I quickly glanced around the crowd looking for Bryan.

“Focus, woman!” she muttered as she grabbed my chin. “The gondola goes past a section of the slalom. If you’re on the right hand side, there’s a moment when you can see it through the trees. Make sure you grab a spot on that side and keep an eye out.”

I smirked at her as I threw my skis up on my shoulder. “You sly little minx. Got it.” I took a deep breath, and let it out in one big puff of white air. “See you at the bottom.”

“Don’t forget to punch through the gates!” she called out as I walked away. I lifted a hand to acknowledge her final parting suggestion.

The crowd actually cheered my name as I walked through to the lift. I smiled a little and gave a quick wave. Wanting to be the first on the next empty gondola, I let a few people ahead of me. As the door slid open for mine, I went straight for the back right side while a group piled in behind. As we left the shed, we quickly ascended, gaining both height above the ground and altitude up the mountain.

I shifted slightly, my back to the wall so I could watch the lodge grow smaller behind us. The rugged gray and white landscape was starkly beautiful against the crystal blue lake. I smiled to myself, remembering how it wasn’t too long ago that a sight like that would’ve turned my insides to jelly. I don’t remember my first ride up a mountain, because my eyes were pressed shut the whole time. But now, I treasured the calm before the calamity, these moments of rest before I punched out of the gate and flung myself down the hill.

Even though I wasn’t going to race for a while, I slipped on my helmet and adjusted the chinstrap. The longer I wore it, the more natural it felt. The less I noticed about my equipment, the better.

We were almost at the halfway mark when I caught a glimpse of the course Janet had told me to look for. With my face nearly pressed to the window, I tried to work out the angles and turns from such a bizarre vantage. I had a few seconds lead, but within moments everyone else pushed forward to see as well. The sudden shift in weight rocked the small box, causing it to bob and bounce.

I flung my arms out to steady myself, my heart thumping. I might be largely over my fear of heights, but I was always aware that we were suspended by a single cable. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to ignore the encroaching claustrophobia of all the people hanging over me and the precarious movement of the gondola.

Screw the course, I’ll see it soon enough. I need to make it up to the mountain without having a panic attack.

We rumbled over a support beam, the squeaky wheels traveling overhead and disappearing behind. The others retreated back to their seats, the view of the course apparently obscured. I breathed a sigh of relief. A moment later, a muted rumble sounded from behind. The car trembled. My eyes snapped open long enough to see the confused and worried faces of the other passengers.
What the hell could that be?

A second, much louder explosion echoed across the mountain. I turned in time to see the top part of support we’d just crossed go up in a fireball. The seat dropped from under me, and everyone in the gondola screamed as they fought for balance. The cable was still hooked to the top part of the tower and bounced once. In horror, I watched as the combined weight of the cars on the pole brought it down, tipping precariously into the black smoke.

Fractions of a second blinked by like hours. I felt weightless as the floor and seat completely disappeared from below. For one surreal moment, I thought that I must’ve been dreaming. It was such a bizarre sensation to suddenly be floating. I almost didn’t feel connected to my body. Thankfully, I don’t remember anything of the impact.

My next memory was laying motionless at an awkward angle. I opened my eyes and fought to make sense of the scene around me. Shattered glass, a crumpled metal cage… agonized moans and shouts for help rang out from all around me. I struggled to understand where I was and what was happening. My brain screamed about an impending danger but the message was cloaked in thick shock.

As I tried to push myself up to get a better look around, a voice below me groaned. In horror, I quickly rolled off. As I glimpsed her bloody face, flashes of the explosion came to me like memories from another life. It was only half a minute later, but I already felt like it’d happened to a completely different version of myself.

The most intense pain shot up through my leg as I tried to move. A scream slipped from my lungs before I’d even fully comprehended what was happening. My stomach churned, and a clammy sweat instantly sprung from my skin. I waited for the pain to subside before looking down. Despite the gruesome state my leg was in, I remained surprisingly calm.
Yup, that’s a chunk of metal sticking right through my leg.