Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3) (24 page)

Not everyone was so lucky. I’ve never found myself in a position where I wanted to hear people cry out in pain, and I hope never to again. The motionless, silent figures were far more disturbing than the writhing ones.

A young woman to my right was quietly groaning, her eyes fluttering back into her head as she fought for consciousness. I gave her a quick once over, noting the horrible gash on her forehead. Unable to see her entire body, I grimly understood that it could be the least of her injuries.

“Shhh, it’s okay. There’s help coming, just hang in there,” I whispered. She was very close to my age, but when she looked up at me, her blood-streaked face looked so young and scared. “What’s your name?”

“Trisha,” she croaked.

“Okay, Trisha. You’re gonna be fine. Help is coming.”

As if to prove my point, the growing scream of a snowmobile grew louder by the second. I carefully placed my gloved hand on the girl’s forehead, half for comfort and half to stem the bleeding. Head wounds could be a real bitch.

An older man with a Swiss accent stumbled into the car and picked his way through. His face was white from shock. “Anna? Anna, are you in here?”

My stomach twisted with guilt as I heard the panic in his voice.
Poor Bryan must be beside himself.
The last thing I ever wanted to do was put that poor man through more agony. I knew he placed a lot of the blame on himself, especially now that the stalker’s identity had been revealed. I desperately wished I had my phone so I could tell him I was all right.
And let him know to shelve the champagne. I’m probably not racing on that leg
, I thought darkly.

A girl called out weakly, presumably Anna, because the man launched himself towards her voice. On his way through the tangle of limbs and debris, he clipped my right foot, rocketing pain through my body. My hand slipped from Trisha’s head as a sparkling darkness encroached on my vision. I fell to my elbow as I slipped out of consciousness, the pain too much for me to endure.

It could’ve only been a few moments, but I came to as the first ski patrol arrived. That bright red jacket might as well be a pair of angel wings as far as I’m concerned. A few people who were able to walk out cleared the way for the first responders to get to the badly injured. I knew there was no way I was getting out there without a stretcher, but I wanted to make sure the girl got treated first.

I waved my hand, fought the encroaching darkness once again, and called out. “We need some help over here. This girl has a pretty nasty head wound.”

I started to black out again as a rescuer climbed towards us. I could feel myself slipping away, letting go because I’d accomplished enough just getting attention to her. I was pulled from the welcoming darkness as I felt fingers clawing at the strap on my chin.

“No, not me. Her,” I said as I resisted.

I focused on the face hovering above me and shook my head, trying to clear my vision. Although I’d never seen her in person, I’d looked at enough photos to recognize her instantly… even with the dark hair. And if that weren’t enough, the murderous expression would’ve given me reason enough to believe this person hated me.

“Angie, what the fuck…”

She cocked her head and studied me for a second, her long hair swinging from under a knit hat. “You’re prettier than I imagined. I always thought they doctored those photos up. Even from a distance, I couldn’t tell how blue your eyes are…” She sounded almost envious.

My mind struggled to keep up. A part of me was convinced this whole thing was a hallucination, the product of a really hard knock to the head. “Angie, did you do all this?”

She rocked back on her heels, totally disregarding the unconscious woman at her feet. “I’d do anything for Bryan, just like he’d do anything for me.”

I squinted around the chaotic scene, wondering if anyone else was catching this exchange. “You’re fucking nuts,” I muttered without thinking.

Angie dove for my throat, slamming the back of my head against the floor. My body became little more than a vessel for pain, both my leg and head now throbbing. She twisted her thin fingers around my neck and began to squeeze. I clawed at her grasp, digging into her flesh with my nails to free myself.

She wasn’t strong enough to completely choke me out, but managed to reduce the blood flow to my brain enough so that the world dimmed around me.
Is this seriously how I die? After all the bullshit I’ve had to deal with, this crazy cunt is going to be the one who takes me out? Why isn’t anyone stopping this?

Louder male voices broke through my tunnel hearing, and Angie let go with a curse. I desperately clung to my consciousness, and watched her frantically check over her shoulder to the crooked door.

“Damn it, I thought I’d have more time than this!” she hissed. Her gaze swung back to me, cold and calculating. “I suppose I only need a couple hours, though.” I tried to resist as she grabbed me by my shoulders and lifted me, her face only inches from mine. “Maybe it’s better that you have to live without him. I like the idea of you suffering for the rest of your life while he and I are together forever. He picked me, you know.”

Before I had time to question what in the ever-living-fuck she was talking about, she slammed me back, cracking my skull against the hard floor. The world went dark, a rapidly closing tunnel of darkness blotting out her face.

A crash from the kitchen woke me. I’d incorporated the sound into my dream, a brief vision of my reflection in a shattering mirror. I sat up slowly, waiting for any other noises.

A cupboard slammed shut. A male voice coughed, sputtered. The feet of one of the stools clattered against the floor as it was dragged from the edge of the island.

I wasn’t alarmed so much as curious as who could be in the house. In all the weeks we’d stayed there, all the cooks and cleaners had been invisible. To hear anyone but Liz inside was odd. I pulled a shirt over my head, threw on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, and walked barefoot down the hall.

I immediately spotted Josh slumped over in the seat, his head resting on his forearm. For all the world, he looked like he was passed out drunk. I glanced at the time and saw it was barely after 7 a.m.
I suppose he could’ve had a hard night, but what is he doing here?

There was a jug of fresh orange juice set out on the counter, along with an assortment of muffins and breakfast bars. Josh had already helped himself to a glass of OJ, the pulp stuck to the inside of the empty glass. He’d been half way through a chocolate chip muffin when he fell asleep sitting up.

“Hey man, you all right?” I called as I walked further into the room. He very lightly stirred, but didn’t respond. Shaking him a little by the shoulder, I called out his name.

Josh’s eyelids opened, his eyes half rolled into the back of his head. When he spoke, his speech slurred like he’d chased a fifth of vodka with a six pack. “Heya mate.”

“Long night? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked with half a laugh.

“Yeah. No. I… where’s Liz? I need to talk to her about something…”

I shook my head and let him fall back to the island. “Yeah, she’s a little busy today, funny enough.”
Dude is messed up…

I had about an hour before I needed to be at the mountain. I wanted to be front and center of the crowd, the first face Liz saw as she finished. As I poured myself a glass of orange juice and leaned against the counter, I couldn’t contain the bubble of excitement in my stomach.
Her first race!

“She’s busy?” Josh slurred.

I looked at him more closely. His clothes were clean and unwrinkled. His hair was swept back and combed through with product. He even looked freshly shaved. On closer inspection, the whole thing, his entire behavior, struck me as incredibly odd.

“What did you get up to last night?” I asked, knocking back the rest of the juice.

Josh giggled and nearly fell out of the chair as he gestured wildly. “Man, it was so crazy. There’s this backpacker bar… and I, the girls were…” He dissolved into laughter again before his mood shifted dramatically. “I didn’t go out last night. I went to bed early ‘cause of the race and…” He focused on me, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Where the fuck am I?”

“Whoa man, all right. I think we might need to get you some coffee. You had one hell of a bender last night,” I said giving him a slap on the shoulder. I pushed away my worries, chalking it up to my overall paranoia from the previous few weeks.

I grabbed a cranberry and oatmeal muffin from the tray, and took a big bite as I turned towards the coffee maker. We chatted while I prepped the machine, mostly me talking about Liz and how stoked I was for her big day. Josh was largely unresponsive, a few grunts here and there, but at least he stayed mostly awake.

It wasn’t until I moved to set down the cup of coffee in front of him that I started to feel strange. The room seemed to swing around a half second behind my movements. I shook my head to clear it, steadying myself on the back of a chair.

“Whoa, I guess I need to eat something a little more substantial,” I muttered to myself. “Must have low blood sugar or something.”

Taking a deep breath, I tried to walk to the fridge and stumbled along the way.
Maybe my leg is weak from the PT yesterday
, I thought. But somewhere in the back of my mind, alarm bells were starting to go off. For some reason, I had a singular idea that if I ate something, I’d feel better.

I grabbed the carton of eggs and tried to place it on the counter, but my vision was so blurry I only made it half way. Nearly a dozen eggs shattered on the kitchen floor, and all Josh could do was point and laugh. That’s when I started to grow really concerned.

Am I having a stroke or something? What the hell is going on? Christ, the room just needs to stop spinning long enough for me to get control…

I spotted the cordless phone on the counter and pulled myself along towards it. Nearly dropping it several times, I managed to turn it on and dial the first nine before a hand plucked it away.

“Uh-oh, Bry. Can’t have you doing that,” a feminine voice cooed.

I looked up and tried to focus on the face in front of me, blinking several times to clear my vision. Despite the growing fog in my brain, I recognized her instantly. “Angie,” I said flatly.

“That’s right, lover,” she replied as she stepped closer. She grinned with bright red lips, her dark hair flowing in waves down her shoulders. It was like a horrible nightmare come to life.

“Liz isn’t here. You can’t touch her,” I said defiantly.

“I know she isn’t here. I’m glad,” She pinned me against the counter, pressing her body against me. I groaned as my head swam. I focused on my feet, trying to stop the room from shifting beneath me like I was on a boat at sea. “Aw, are you not feeling well? Perhaps it was something you ate?”

“The muffins?” I asked in horror. “What sicko poisons muffins?” Already, my speech was beginning slur like Josh’s.

Angie shrugged indifferently. “Or maybe something you drank?” She stood on her toes and kissed me softly. Her lips tasted like vanilla. I was slow to pull away, my reaction time reduced greatly. “You’ve always been so shy,” she giggled, wiping the lipstick from my mouth with her thumb.

“What are you doing? Why are you doing all this?” I protested. She continued on as if I hadn’t spoken, her eyes flashing with fresh anger.

“But you certainly weren’t shy with that little slut the other day,” she hissed. “All that flirting, and the shameless way you let her come onto you!”

“She’s my fiancée,” I slurred, barely getting the word out.

“Not. Her.” I blinked, trying to focus on her crystal blue eyes, devoid of all emotion.

And it clicked together. That sound I’d heard in the hallway when Paige had kissed me. Angie had chased her away, wrecked the room, done God knows what. “Did you… kill her?”

Angie laughed sweetly and pulled away. Without her support, I crumpled to the ground, catching myself in a partial crouch. My knee and hip screamed in protest at the sudden movement, but there was little I could do to recover.

“Oh shit! It’s you. They’ve been looking for you,” Josh yelled, finally coming to long enough to recognize who had entered the room.

“And I bet you’re the one who told them all about me, huh?” Her voice balanced a thin line between threatening and playful.