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Her jaw tightens, and an unreadable emotion flits across her face. “It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?”
Avery pushes off again, skiing ahead.
My heart sinks. Of course, she can’t forgive me for what happened to Miles. Even with the thaw between us, I know, that blame will never die.
And I can’t expect it to.
“Stick to the road,” I call to her, as she moves faster, clearly trying to put distance between us. The trees are thick here, but I know, the terrain can turn deadly. “Avery, slow down.”
I push off, skiing hard to catch up with her. The slope gets steeper, increasing our pace, and suddenly, we shoot out of the tree line and find—
A sudden cliff up ahead, with a perilous drop.
“Avery!” I yell, but she’s going too fast to slow down.
“Seb!” I hear the panic in her voice, but she’s not experienced enough to know how to veer away or to stop herself from hurtling closer.
Fuck.
Crouching, I angle my body and speed after her—heading straight for the edge of the cliff. Panic grips me, forcing me on, and at the very last minute, I manage to grab her arm and yank her into a hairpin turn, tumbling into a snowdrift in a tangle of limbs and skis.
Avery sits up, gasping for air. Her eyes widen, taking in the drop.
“Are you OK?” I demand, brushing snow off us. She nods, taking my hand as I pull her to her feet again.
“I guess we’re even now,” she says faintly. “I save your life… You save mine.”
I exhale in a rush, relieved. That was close.
Too damn close.
“Come on,” I tell her, hiding my panic. “We’re getting closer.”
“Right. No more exciting detours.” Avery pushes off, skiing after me back to the road, but my nerves are still shaken, haunted by the image of her plunging straight for the sheer drop.
How am I supposed to keep this girl safe?
Someone was willing to blow up a plane—and kill Avery—just to get to me. The people I love always get hurt around me. My father. Scarlett. Now her.
If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Look!” she exclaims, breaking into my dark thoughts. “Over there!”
I follow her pointing and see a scatter of lights in the distance. Houses, dotted in the valley, and the glowing lights of town.
“We made it,” she cheers, beaming at me. “We’re safe now.”
I nod and follow her down the slope.
I don’t have the heart to tell her that she may never be safe with me.
7
AVERY
After skiing all day,we reach the village just before nightfall. The first couple of houses we try are empty, but just as I’m about to collapse with exhaustion, we find one lit up and occupied by a friendly Swiss couple in their fifties, who welcome us in, and buy Sebastian’s smooth cover story about a snowy road trip and engine trouble. They send us to sleep in their cozy guestroom, and even drive us to the local train station the next morning, to catch the direct train to Zurich.
“Now, this is the way to travel,” I sigh in relief, sitting in the first-class carriage watching the snowy landscape blur past—outside the nice, thick windows. “Inside, on solid ground… with hot chocolate.”
