Page 16 of Frozen Secrets

Or gummy clusters. He could really use some at the moment.

His good leg took the brunt of his weight as he hiked himself up the length of the tree. Cold worked through the hole in his coat and shirt, crusting the edges of his shoulder wound. Fibers tugged at him with every slide of muscle beneath the flannel, but standing straighter didn’t make a damn bit of difference. Blood seeped from both wounds in fresh waves as he got to his feet. Dark webs of black penetrated his vision. He tried to breathe through it, and the filaments vanished. For now. No telling how far he’d make it or if he’d make it at all, but it was worth the risk.

Winnie was worth it. All she’d wanted was to do something right by her old man—an effort the son of a bitch hadn’t deserved from her in the least—and instead she’d found herself faced with the worst Black Hollow had to offer. Again. No matter how many times he’d fought her battles, they just kept on coming. But she was still standing. Determined more than ever to prove nothing could knock her down, and he couldn’t help but admire her for that. She’d picked herself back up so many times, it was hard to imagine anything that could take her down for the count.

Until now.

The killer had murdered Arthur Hutton for looking into the Lila Mercer case. There wasn’t anything stopping the woman who’d stabbed him from doing the same to Winnie.

Except him.

He hadn’t been able to protect Katie and their unborn child from the random violence that had surrounded them in Chicago, and he’d punished himself for it every single day since. But he could do this for Winnie. Because part of him recognized she wouldn’t be in this position if he’d remained in Black Hollow. If he’d kept his promise and stayed to help her build the life they’d both so desperately wanted with each other. He’d done this to them. The awkwardness and the distance. Trying to say the right thing while battling the urge to slip back into old patterns.

And that kiss… Hell, he’d never forgotten the feel of her mouth against his. How her lower lip—a little fuller than the top—fit perfectly between his teeth. There hadn’t been anyone since Katie’s death, and he’d convinced himself he didn’t deserve that kind of connection again. That he’d had his chance and he’d blown it. For failing his wife. Failing their family. But these past few days with Winnie… The numbness had cracked. Little by little. Because of her laugh, the way she watched him when she didn’t think he noticed, because the way he lit up from a single brush of her hand against his.

And moments like those were worth fighting for.

She was worth fighting for.

If he didn’t bleed out first.

Clamping his hand around the blade sticking out of his thigh, he took that first step. Then the next. His leg dragged behind him, snow working into his boots. The pain hadn’t stopped, but he’d adapted to the constant agony within a few steps. One foot in front of the other as he retraced his and Winnie’s footsteps stamped into the snow. His arm hung at his side, the muscles giving out completely. Trees scratched at his face and neck, cutting small lacerations into his skin, but the cold took care of the prickling quickly.

Rounding onto the east side of the lake, Adrial tried to pick up the pace. He was getting close now. Breathing hurt. He couldn’t get enough air. His chest felt as though a pallet of bricks had taken up residence on his sternum, and the damn spiderwebs of black were back at the edges of his vision. The back of his throat burned, but he pushed through the last of the trees.

And pulled up short.

Winnie hadn’t made it to the SUV.

Every sense he owned exploded in a need to pick up some sign of her. To tell him where she’d gone. He scanned the surface of the lake, searching for cracks, for evidence she’d gone through the ice. Would he be able to tell from here? She knew this area better than he did. There was no way she’d gotten lost, and the gutting sensation that followed nearly brought him back to his knees. “Winnie!”

No answer.

A whistle of wind cut through the trees and shifted the branches that’d worked to stop him in his tracks. His left eye went dark, and Adrial grabbed for the nearest pine. Stinging pain rippled through his nerve endings. The SUV. He had a first-aid kit inside.

He shoved free of the tree with a few more scratches than when he’d started this investigation, his shoes carving bloody streaks through the snow instead of the perfect indentations of his boot treads. Tightening his grip on the blade, he twisted the handle. Roaring pain exploded through him and cleared the fog of weightlessness and lethargy. It wasn’t the best way to keep his body from burning through the wisps of adrenaline left in his veins, but it did a damn good job of keeping him conscious.

Adrial grabbed for his coat pocket. The key. Damn it. He’d handed it over to Winnie to give her a fighting chance of getting as far from this place as possible, leaving him with only one option. He threw his elbow into the passenger side window. Pain charged down his forearm and into his bicep with nothing to show for it. The window didn’t break on impact. He tried again. And again. Stumbling back and out of breath, he searched the ground for a rock or something solid that would splinter the glass.

Then he laughed and grabbed for the door handle. The door swung open without resistance. “Didn’t lock the vehicle, dumbass.”

A flood of relief nearly took him out as he collapsed into the passenger side seat. It still smelled like her. Hints of vanilla and something wilder he couldn’t put his finger on from her shampoo that undid all the tightness in his chest, giving him the chance to take a full breath. His head hit the neck rest, and he lost track of time for a few seconds as he jerked back into the moment. How long had he been out? It was hard to tell with the clouds doing their damn hardest to block out the sun three hundred days of the years, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. He had what looked like a hunting knife stuck in his thigh and an open wound in his shoulder, so there was no way in hell he’d be able to reach on his own. Bending, Adrial dragged the first-aid kit from beneath the seat and popped it open on the driver’s seat. Blood streaked from his hand onto the sterilized gauze pads, curved needle package and sewing thread as he worked.

All he could do as he wrapped his hand around the blade handle was promise to return the favor to its owner. Three breaths. That was all he’d give himself and hope he remained conscious enough to close the wound before he bled out all over the front seat. He sucked in the first. Then the second. He held his breath on the third. Adrial tricked his brain into withdrawing the knife as fast as possible.

Lightning exploded behind his eyes, dragging him back to that thin line of consciousness. He couldn’t pass out. He wouldn’t survive it. Punching his good hand into the dashboard, he gave in to the scream, then grabbed for the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the kit and dumped half the contents over the wound. The burn sucked the remaining air from his lungs, but that was good. He still had feeling. “Son of a bitch.”

He tossed the bottle back into the kit once enough of the blood had washed onto the floor of the vehicle. Grabbing for the needle and thread he’d prepped, Adrial got to work. His clamped jaw triggered a headache at his temples as he sutured each side of the wound closed with enough give to stretch.

The bleeding slowed enough for him to secure the gauze and tape over the stitches, but he couldn’t stitch his shoulder himself. A section of gauze would have to do for now.

Winnie was out there. Alone. Scared. Maybe injured. And he was going to do what he should have done ten years ago when he learned the truth about her father. He was going to fight for her.

Chapter Fifteen

Keep calm and embalm.

His and hearse.