Recalled (28 page)

“Yes,” she groaned. “Hurry up. You’re letting in the cold air.”

I slid between the sheets and shoved the pillow that I’d contemplated using as a weapon just moments ago beneath my head.

Piper didn’t turn toward me. She stayed in the same position, but her body remained relaxed.

Would she be so relaxed if she knew who was really in her bed?

“Is that better?” she asked through the dark.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Mmmm, good. I’m going to sleep. No funny business.” She warned, the words hardly sounding like a threat around her wide yawn.

I felt the side of my mouth tip up. But then it fell away. I’d done a lot of crappy things in my life, but lying here in this bed felt like the worst. I didn’t deserve her trust, yet I had it. I wasn’t fit to breathe the same air as her.

I waited until I heard her quiet snore and knew she was asleep. Then I got out of the bed, tucking the blankets back around her, and let myself out of her room, pulling the door around on my way out.

I went back to the living room and the itchy couch. Even that was better than I deserved.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Fun -
pleasure, gaiety, or merriment. Playful, often noisy, activity.”

Piper

I rolled over onto my side, facing the place on the mattress where Dex lay last night, and I opened my eyes. He was gone. I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Part of me wanted to see what he looked like first thing in the morning. I smiled, thinking he’d probably look the same, minus the glasses, because I don’t think he ever combed his hair.

I stretched like a cat beneath the blankets and then threw them back and stood, pulling on a thick pair of socks and a sweatshirt over my pajamas. Dex was already up and when I entered the room, he turned from the window.

“Coffee,” he said in a desperate tone.

I laughed and went into the kitchen to get a pot started. “You know these things are really easy to use,” I said, pointing at the coffee maker.

He grunted like he didn’t agree and turned back to look out the window and the beautiful expanse of land and snow. When the pot was about half full, I pulled it out and poured two cups. The only thing in the fridge was a container of creamer and I dumped about half in his mug. When I tasted what he was drinking at the diner the other day, I figured that much was about right.

I grabbed both our mugs and went across the room to where he stood and he took his and drank about half in one great gulp. He groaned appreciatively and I shook my head and took a sip of my less-creamer-laden brew.

 “Let’s go do something,” Dex said, his voice full of enthusiasm as if the coffee turned immediately into energy.

“Like what?”

He finished off the rest of his mug and smacked his lips together, then turned from the window and went toward his bag sitting in the corner.

“Layer up,” he said. “You’ll see.”

 “What about my coffee?” I asked, smiling. I liked this energetic side of him.

“Drink up, woman. There’s fun to be had!”

He bustled around the room, putting on layers, a coat, and a knit hat. Then he went to the door of the cabin and looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get the fun. I’m going to bring it right to you.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“I know,” he said dramatically. “Be ready when I get back!”

Snow swirled through the door when he opened it and went out. I finished up the coffee in my cup, sat it in the sink, and then went to layer up. I had no idea what he was up to, but I really wanted to find out.

By the time I got dressed and was pulling on my coat and gloves, I heard something outside. I went to the door and peaked out the little window beside it. Our “fun” was parked right outside.

I stepped back just as Dex flung open the door, his cheeks pink from the cold.

“Let’s go!” Keys were in his hand.

“
That
is your idea of fun?” I asked dubiously.

He nodded, not noticing the doubt in my voice. “Come on, get out here!” he said and then disappeared through the door.

I sighed. There was no doubt in my mind that I liked Dex—was falling for him even. But this. I wasn’t so sure about this.

Even still, I went warily outside.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Hypothermia -
An abnormally low body temperature, often caused by prolonged exposure to cold.”

Dex

“Are you sure you should be driving?” Piper asked warily, staring between me and the keys in my hand.

“I’m fine. I didn’t have a concussion and I don’t even have a headache anymore.”

She looked at the snow mobile I’d rented and frowned. “I don’t know about this.”

I sighed. “Didn’t we come here to have fun?”

Somewhere between Charming showing up and my vow to finish this job, I forgot the reason I made the deal in the first place.

Yes, for money.

But it wasn’t the actual money itself. In fact, hadn’t I just realized last night that I really didn’t care about the money at all? But I still cared about what the money would bring me. More experiences, a better life—that’s what I really wanted. I wanted to have fun and do stuff I never got to do because I was too busy surviving.

So I rented a snowmobile.

Sure, this was probably a good way to kill my Target, but couldn’t we have some fun first?

“I’ve never been on a snowmobile before,” Piper said.

I could see her warming to the idea. I’d never been on one either, but admitting that probably wouldn’t inspire confidence in my driving so I kept my mouth shut.

I handed her a pair of goggles and then strapped a pair over my glasses. I didn’t waste time but climbed onto the machine and turned toward her.

“Well? Are you coming?”

“Fine. Just don’t kill us.”

I pretended not to hear her.

Seconds later, she climbed onto the back of the snowmobile and wrapped her arms around my waist. It was a shame we had so much thick clothing on because I suddenly found myself with the urge to feel her pressed against me.

But that thought was followed by the familiar feeling of sickness that I always got when I was close to her. It was my body’s way of reminding me what I needed to do. I wished it recognized I was trying and gave it a rest.

Sometimes it felt like two parts of me were at war.

So I stopped thinking and I gunned the engine. I smiled when Piper’s arms tightened around me. I took off across the snow, starting slow at first, getting used to the feel of the machine and the way it handled. I aimed it up the trail the rental company outlined for me, ducking a little farther into my heavy coat. The wind was fierce today and I was glad we had goggles or I knew I wouldn’t be able to see.

I increased the speed a little and out of the corner of my eye I saw white spray flying up around us. Snow dust surrounded us as we cut through the thickness that layered the ground. There weren’t any other sleds out here on the trail with us. Well, none that I could see, and I was glad. I felt the weight of my life slip right off my shoulders and mix with the snow that blew behind us. I felt free and I wanted more.

I gunned the engine and tore up the path. In my ear Piper squealed and I knew she was having a good time too. Up and down we went on the mounds of snow. I weaved in and out of trees and whooped into the wind. We did figure eights on an open stretch and then I skidded to a stop, throwing snow in the opposite direction.

I could hear her laughing over the engine. I looked over my shoulder at her pink cheeks and wide smile.

“Again!” she screamed and gave me a thumbs-up.

We took off again, racing through the white. There was a large stretch of flat land ahead and I went for that, thinking I could really open it up and see how much speed we really could gain.

It was awesome.

I pushed the vehicle until it shook and it felt like we were flying. Then I made a wide turn and brought us back around and slowed just a little so I could think.

Maybe I could manage some sort of accident while we were out here. Maybe I could pretend to lose control of the vehicle and jump off right before I hit a tree. That would complete my job, and Piper would die without knowing what a real jerk I was.

I don’t know when that became important, but all of a sudden it did.

She began tapping me on the back and yelling for me to stop, so I cut the engine. When the sound died away, we were met with sudden silence.

“Can I drive?” Piper said, her voice overly loud as if her ears hadn’t adjusted to the quiet yet.

I laughed. “Think you can handle it?” My voice was also too loud.

“Oh, I know I can!” She swung her leg over the side and stood, jumping up and down a little. “My legs feel like Jell-O!” She laughed.

I laughed too. This was perfect. I never thought about letting her drive. Maybe I could somehow make it so she crashed and killed herself. Then it wouldn’t be my fault at all, and the job would still be done.

I climbed off, leaving the keys in the ignition. My legs were wobbly from sitting on such a vibrating force for so long. I walked around a bit, trying to get the feeling back into them and I saw Piper doing the same. Occasionally she would jump up and down and shake her arms.

I looked toward the sky. It never really looked this blue in the city. It was a bright day and there were big white clouds moving rapidly through the azure. I figured it was the wind causing them to drift so quickly. I inhaled a deep breath of the cold, crisp air. I’d never been a fan of winter, but today I understood why so many liked it.

There was a sharp cracking sound off to my left and I turned just as Piper made a sound.

“Dex!” she called warily, as if yelling too loud would be a danger.

“Piper,” I said, answering her call.

“We’re on ice! This is a lake!”

As she spoke, another deafening cracking sound ripped through the silence. I hadn’t seen any signs posted about the lake… Sure, I knew one was here, but it was miles and miles away. Had we really driven that far?

“Dex,” Piper said again. This time it was a little more than a whimper.

“Stop moving,” I told her, holding out my hands. “Slow and easy,” I directed. “Make your way toward me…”

I looked around, trying to see where the water ended and the land began, but it was an endless sea of white. I had no way of knowing which way to go or how far it was to safety.

Piper took one shaky step and then another. Her movements were agonizingly slow and I wanted to scream for her to hurry up, but I knew I couldn’t.

“There you go; you’re almost here,” I said encouragingly when she was about halfway to me.

She nodded, keeping her eyes trained on me as if I were her lifeline. That sick feeling came back over me, but I couldn’t decide which part of me it came from.