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“I’m trying,” she whispered, “but I’m hanging on by a thread.” Her heart skipped a beat when a light pierced the growing darkness. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from her phone. Not wanting to consider the fact that her finger had been stroking across the screen as if down an arm or a cheek prickly with the stubble of a beard, she just accepted the fact that her mind wasn’t so far gone that it had forgotten the handy-dandy flashlight icon on her phone.
Moving the phone up and down, to make sure she could not only see where she was walking, but to keep from knocking herself out on some low overhanging tree branch, she moved toward the last spot she’d seen the rock. It took her a half hour and cost her a great deal of her courage to block out the rustles and sounds from things she had no wish to consider moving just out of sight among the trees before she finally saw the grayish-black rock. A small ridged panel on the underneath told of its true purpose. Lifting her eyes, ignoring the fact that the trees were so thick she couldn’t see even a patch of the sky, she prayed, “Please, please let there be a key.” Elena almost rolled her eyes remembering such inane prayers throughout her life, the outcomes weighing far heavier on the ‘no answer’ than the ‘your wish is my command’ side of the scales. With fingers that were so frozen she was surprised they didn’t snap off like a bean from a vine, she finally managed to shove the panel to one side. She would have cried with gratitude except she was sure the tears would freeze to her cheeks. Pumping her fist in the air, the key pressing against her skin, she turned to the forest.
“Have fun, all you furries; too bad you’re gonna freeze your asses off!” She might have said more but when a branch twitched, she whirled around. Her pace out of the trees was far less cautious than her trip into them had been. Once back in the clearing, she snatched up her duffle, noticing it already had an inch or so coating of snow and tromped up the steps to the front door. She shoved the key into the lock and her heart stopped when she twisted it and nothing happened. “Oh, come on, I’m begging here!” Holding her breath, she had the fortitude to twist the opposite direction. With a click, her salvation was at hand. Pushing against the heavy wood, she stepped inside and slammed the door. Fuck, it was darker inside than out. Running her palm over the wall next to the door, she found the switch and flipped it up. Down. Up. Down. Nothing happened.
No illumination.
No flicker.
Not a goddamned thing.
Too tired to even care, she swept her phone back and forth, lighting her surroundings. She was standing in the living area. The furnishings hadn’t changed; the sofa sat straight ahead, its back serving as a room divider. Two overstuffed armchairs faced the huge stone fireplace, logs neatly piled in a recess waiting to provide warmth. A chocolate brown bearskin rug lay on the wood flooring, providing a soft surface to kneel when… Forcing her thoughts away from the visual she saw in her mind’s eye, she turned toward the kitchen across the room. She smiled, thinking that anyone who stood outside and saw the roughhewn walls, the porch railings formed from tree branches, the steps to the porch fashioned from thick cedar planks would never think that inside was a kitchen fit for even the most demanding chef. Stainless steel appliances gleamed in the light of her phone. The range had six burners as well as a grill top and a large oven. A commercial-sized refrigerator would hold a plethora of common ingredients that with a dash of this and a pinch of that, he’d turn into some culinary masterpiece while she sat at the island, watching in amazement. With that thought, her stomach growled.
Opening the refrigerator didn’t produce a light source much less some perfectly prepared rack of lamb or a dish of those thin slices of potatoes baked in a nest of cheeses that had always made her mouth water. Hell, there wasn’t even one plastic container or box that you’d find in most people’s fridges. Evidently he still didn’t take fondly to keeping leftovers or choose to waste money on electricity. At least there were several bottles of water. Grabbing one, she twisted off the cap and took several long swallows. Thirst abated, she replaced the cap and yanked on the door next to the refrigerator only to find it locked. Well, she’d heard that people were warned time and time again to keep their foodstuffs locked away to keep them safe from marauding bears.
“Great, that’s just brilliant. Bring bears into the equation right before you try to sleep!” Moving back through the room, she lifted her hand to direct the light and stepped around the island to move toward the back of the cabin. Pausing with her hand on the knob of the guestroom, she looked back toward the large picture window where she knew the woods lay just beyond. “Okay, higher ground will be much safer, right?”
Safety… another rather curious choice of words. Bears? Seriously? Let’s be honest… what are you really worried about?
She shuddered, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “You aren’t making this easy—”
If you want easy, turn around and go back to wherever you’ve been hiding. You know damn well I’d never risk your safety, but, if you stay, all bets are off about easy.
She didn’t need his physical presence before her. She could easily see a dark head shaking back and forth, eyes so blue and intense as his gaze locked onto hers that she felt he was looking directly into her soul. His eyebrow… the left one would be quirked as he wondered exactly how delusional she was willing to be.
“I have no choice,” she whispered. “God help me, but I’m staying.”
Since when had she started holding entire conversations with herself? Not wanting to truly consider the answer, she blamed it on the exhaustion that was pulling at her. Retracing her steps, she wearily climbed the steep stairs, one hand gripping the banister, the other holding out her faux flashlight, her duffle thumping against her back with each step. She gave a little yelp when a squeak sounded, her heart pounding until she realized it wasn’t some wild animal, but the stair she’d just put her weight on.
Once at the top, she moved across a small open area where the only thing that kept a person from plummeting to the floor below was a railing. She didn’t have to shine her light around to know that the open area served as an office, his desk dominating the space, shelves containing books and board games behind it. A braided rug in rich jewel tones padded the floor, a thick cushion and throw pillows waited in the bay window, ready to provide a seat or even a pallet to curl up and nap.
She continued down the hall, hesitating at the first door she came to. Had he managed to do what she hadn’t? Had he successfully erased her from his life? Closing her eyes, she fought back the tears that welled. Though her fingers hovered above the latch, she couldn’t make her fingers touch it. There was only one room left and her steps took her to the door at the end of the hall. She knew it was one thing to help herself to shelter and quite another to invade his personal space. But she also knew that she didn’t have the courage to open the other door. If she’d found it emptied—changed—she would know and, for tonight, she simply didn’t have the courage to discover the answer.
Opening the bedroom door, she stepped inside. The bed beckoned, offering escape from her thoughts in sleep, but her bladder was screaming for relief so she walked into the adjoining bathroom.
This room was as modern and elegant as the kitchen below. Dropping her duffle, she practically whined, her feet shuffling as she scrambled to get the zipper of her jeans down with her frozen fingers. Shoving pants and panties down, a small shriek escaped as she sat down, her bare ass instantly pebbling with gooseflesh as it met the cold seat.
After using the bathroom, her attempt to wash her hands had her cursing again as nothing but frigid water sputtered from the faucet. Deciding hygiene wasn’t all that vital, she stripped out of the windbreaker. It had become soaking wet from the snow. Grateful the jacket had kept the sweatshirt she wore beneath it dry, she tossed the windbreaker over the towel rod then moved back into the bedroom again. Without electricity, there was no heat and her fire-building skills could be considered dismal at best. Her boots were the only other items she bothered to remove. As she pulled back the quilt and sheets, crawling beneath them, she could practically hear the animals of the forest chortling, snorting, huffing, or conversing in whatever means they would use to mock her. They might be outside, but dammit, they were covered in nice thick, warm fur coats!
It took several minutes and pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head before she stopped shivering. The last time Elena had been at the cabin, it had been in the daytime and in late summer. She’d never really considered how much a few months could change everything, and she wasn’t just considering that, instead of sunshine, there was a blizzard outside the window. Turning onto her side and curling tightly into a ball that was reminiscent of the pill bugs under that rock, she pulled the covers up and over her mouth. She’d cover her nose as well but wanted to breathe without worrying about inhaling the carbon dioxide she was creating with every exhale.
“Good grief, first bears and now noxious air? What’s next? Some psycho wearing a field-hockey mask and carrying a butcher knife? Fuck! Stop! Just stop and turn off your brain.”
When that demand didn’t work, she began to take long, deep breaths. Even though it was cold as a witch’s teat… she groaned at the ‘witch’ and switched analogies. Okay, so it was cold enough to hang meat on those giant hooks… another groan and another switch.
“Fine, it’s fucking cold but there are four solid oak walls surrounding you. There is a thick door and a roof. You’ve no reason to believe you are in danger…”
The chuckle that rang out loudly in her head had her flinching. He was right. She wasn’t worried about bears or a serial killer. What refused to leave her in peace was the worry that this was all for naught. It had been a long time… months during which she’d not answered phone calls. Months in which she’d refused to open emails or texts.
Turning on her other side, she sighed deeply, tucking her head a bit lower, allowing the tip of her nose to seek warmth beneath the quilt. Air be damned. She’d rather slip into eternal slumber than continue to quake with the cold. Part of her demanded she get her ass out of a bed where she no longer belonged and just go. If she were smart, she’d face the fact that while she’d finally stopped running and admitted that she had to finish this, that didn’t mean that he hadn’t taken her silence as a sign that it was time to move on.
Still, she didn’t get up. Looking out the window and seeing the snow falling, she whispered, “I know it won’t be easy. I don’t need easy. I just have to know… is it… am I too late?”
No answer came and yet when she closed her eyes, she found sleep.
Chapter Two
Every sense went on alert the moment Liam stepped out of the garage. Though there was no evidence of another vehicle and no tire tracks in the snow, he felt an unseen presence. Leaving everything in the Range Rover, he moved cautiously toward the front of the cabin. Standing at the bottom of the steps, he made a slow circle to scan his surroundings. Despite the fact that he saw nothing and the pristine surface of the snow was undisturbed, he knew that someone had been there. Looking at the door, he shook his head. Whoever it was had either come and gone as no footprints were visible, or the intruder was still inside.
