by Sybil Bartel
“Fair enough.” We hit a pothole covered by ten inches of snow, and the right side the vehicle dipped.
“Oh my God,” Summer gasped. “What was that?”
“Pothole I need to fix come spring.” I made a mental note.
“You pave your own road up to your cabin?”
“We’re on a dirt road now. We left the paved roads after the first switchback.”
“Switchback?” she asked, looking behind us.
“A hundred and eighty degree turn in a road. Goes one direction, then cuts back almost on top of itself in the other direction. Switchbacks are common up here in the mountains when it’s too steep to have a straight road.”
“If it’s too steep for a road, then maybe there shouldn’t be a house up here.”
I chuckled. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Fun is civilization. Beaches, flat roads, restaurants, shops—that’s fun.”
“Spoken like a true Floridian.” We slid through the next turn.
“Shade!” She grabbed the handle above her door.
“We’re good, princess.” We weren’t good. I was losing traction by the second. “One more turn.” Then I was seriously considering abandoning ship before we slid off the fucking road and hit a tree.
“You said fifteen more minutes. It’s been like five.”
Coming up on the next turn, I took a calculated risk and overcompensated. “We’re getting there,” I evaded as the Escalade made it around the next turn, but this time slid toward the side of the mountain instead of the drop-off.
“Oh my God.” Both of her hands went to the Oh Jesus handle. “We’re sliding all over the place!”
“That one was purposeful. The turn sharper than the last one, I wanted this beast hugging the side of the mountain, not flirting with the drop-off.”
“Well, glad you got that covered,” she stated dryly.
Checking the mirrors, watching my speed, I eyed the edge of the road and glanced at the odometer. We could hike it from here. “We’re close.”
She glanced around. “How close? I don’t see anything but snow and mountains and lots and lots of trees.”
There was no way the SUV was going it make the last three hundred yards. It was the steepest part of the drive, and I was sure there was an inch of ice under the snow up here. “You got a thing against trees?”
“Yeah, when they’re not palm trees.”
“You don’t like mountain pines, princess?” We inched toward the last switchback. “Come on, it’s like Christmas every day of the year.”
“These are not Christmas trees,” she complained. “These are like their gangly, missing-too-many-needles-to-be-pretty, lanky step-cousins. Christmas trees should be like Santa, big and wide and round.”
Ignoring her rant, I tipped my chin toward her seat belt. “We’re coming up on a sharp turn. Remember what I told you.”
“You’re not making me feel better.” She nervously rubbed her hand down her thigh before her hand went back to her seat belt release.
“That part comes later,” I carelessly promised as I eased down on the gas and swung into the turn.
“Unless there’s hot chocolate, I’m not interested.”
I didn’t respond.
The front tires gripped the road, but the second the back of the SUV rounded the turn, we fishtailed.
Taking my foot off the gas, holding the steering wheel tight, I issued orders as the rear left wheel went over the edge. “Seat belt off, now. Open your door. Quickly.”
Panicking, she reached for the handle above the door.
The Escalade started to slide backward.
“Seat belt OFF.” Giving the SUV gas, I barked out commands. “Door open!”
Pulling her legs up like the goddamn floor was on fire, she did neither.
My foot on the gas, the tires spinning, I leaned across her, hit the release on her seat belt, and pushed her door open. “Jump, jump.”
“Shade,” she cried.
I shoved her out.
Her ass hit the snow, and the SUV went over the edge.
THE COLD PUNCHED ME IN the face and stole my breath as my ass and hands landed in a soft cloud of hell. The snow so icy it burned, I gasped thin, arctic air and watched in horror as the giant Cadillac went backward off the cliff.
“Shade!” My breath too short to scream, my words died in the eerily silent blizzard.
I pushed to my feet only to fall back down in knee-deep snow as the benign sound of twigs snapping echoed up the mountain. Scrambling on hands and knees and wading through snow like it was heavy surf, I reached the edge of the cliff as the SUV slid like a sled toward the other part of the switchback.
The passenger door hanging open, the beam of the headlights bobbing after every bump, the tires alternately spinning and kicking up snow—the whole scene was like a drunken frat party for SUVs.
My body shivering, my hands going from icy burning to numb, panic crawled up my throat. I fought for thin air to fill my lungs as the Escalade miraculously missed trees but dangerously showed no signs of slowing as it reached the road below.
“Shade!”
This time my scream echoed louder than the snapping twigs, but all at once a horrible crunch sounded as the rear of the SUV dropped off the last part of the steep incline and hit the road below with a bounce.
To my horror, it started to tip sideways.
“No!”
I didn’t think.
Next thing I knew, I was on my ass, feet first, half sliding, half butt-scooching down the mountain.
The SUV rocked back in the opposite direction.
My teeth started to chatter.
The open passenger door swung lazily shut from the momentum, and the vehicle landed on all fours on the road.
I started to slide faster down the steep slope. The twigs and branches the SUV had snapped scraped my back. Snow hit me in the face. Everything felt like icy fire, and too late I realized my mistake.
I was going to fly right past the black hunk of metal with my bodyguard inside, and I was going to careen off the next cliff drop and fall to my death.
I was going to die.
On a mountain of snow.
Where no one but wolves would find my frozen corpse.
Sheer terror seized my lungs and my imagination, and I screamed as I sailed off the same last steep incline the SUV had.
But I didn’t fly over the road or hit it like the vehicle had.
A bodyguard jumped out of the Escalade, and two huge, blessedly warm arms snatched me out of thin air.
“Sh-Sh-Shade.” My hands numb, my body shaking, I could barely move my frozen muscles as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Fucking Christ, woman,” he reprimanded. “What the hell were you thinking?” Putting me on my feet and brushing the snow off, he didn’t wait for an answer. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
“M-Me?” I chattered. “You went over the cl-cl-cliff!”
Shaking his head, he picked me up. “I was fine.” Carrying me around the front of the vehicle, he opened the passenger door and dumped me inside. “Warm up,” he ordered before shutting the door.
The instant heat inside the SUV compared to outside made all my clothes suddenly wet, and I was shivering harder by the time he got back in the driver seat.
Turning up the heater, he glanced in the back. “You got any dry pants?”
“Y-yes,” I chattered, nodding.
“Hang on, be right back.” He pushed his door open, and an icy blast filled the cabin before he quickly closed it again.
A few seconds later, the back opened, and I glanced at him as he first checked out the SUV, then rummaged around in my suitcases. What felt like a lifetime later, he shut the lift gate, and got back behind the wheel.
“Here.” He dumped a pile of clothes in my lap.
“Thanks.” I was still freezing cold, but I was no longer shivering uncontrollably. Holding my hands up to the heater, I nodded at the cl
othes. “I’ll put those on in a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute, princess.” Reaching for the borrowed sweatshirt of his I was still wearing, he unzipped it. “Get this off, and get the dry clothes on. We need to keep moving.”
Anxiety formed a lump in my throat, and I looked up at the road we’d just slid off. “We’re going to attempt to drive back up that?”
“Not we, me.” He pulled the sweatshirt off my arms.
The anxiety turned into full-blown panic. “You can’t leave me here in the snow.”
“I’m not.” He tossed the wet sweatshirt in back and fished a shirt from the pile on my lap. “Put this on.” He shoved my long-sleeved pajama shirt over my head. “I’m taking you up to the cabin on foot. Then I’ll come back for the SUV.”
My head was shaking no before I had my arms shoved into the sleeves of the thermal. “It’s too cold out there. We’ll freeze to death. We can just wait in here until the storm passes.”
“We’ll run out of gas long before the storm passes.” He picked up a thin sweater that was more for looks than warmth and handed it to me. “Put this on. We’ll layer up and be fine until we get to the cabin.”
As I put the sweater on, he slid off his jacket and reached behind his seat for the bag he’d pulled the sweatshirt out of earlier in the day. The restaurant, the meal we shared, his crazy ex—it all seemed like a lifetime ago.
Coming away with one of those long-sleeved shirts that men worked out in, Shade leaned forward and pulled his short-sleeved shirt off single-handedly.
The full impact of Shade No-Last-Name bodyguard and all of his ink hit me harder than the punch of the cold when I’d been shoved out of the Escalade, and I sucked in a sharp breath.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He was inked everywhere—from his pecs to his neck, across his shoulders, and down his arms. And his six-pack had a six-pack.
Holy fucking shit.
He pulled the tightly fitted, long-sleeved shirt over his head. “See something you like, princess?”
No intonation, not even a hint of tease in his voice, I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” I rasped past my suddenly dry throat.
“You have a sweet ass.” He nodded at my leggings. “Get those wet pants off and put on the dry ones, then put your jeans over them.”
Heat flamed my cheeks at his compliment, and a shyness I wasn’t accustomed to took hold. I’d put on weight since being in rehab, and even though my counselors had assured me it was normal, that my body weight was actually healthy now, I still felt the years of conditioning my father had drilled into me about being unnaturally thin.
But hearing Shade say I had a nice ass? It felt good. Really good. “Thanks,” I murmured.
“Pants, woman.”
I glanced behind me at the relative privacy of the back, which was a joke. I’d walked around South Beach in a string thong bikini, and I didn’t want to take my leggings off in front of him when my lace underwear covered more than my swimsuit?
“Already saw your ass, sweetheart. We’re out of time. Change here.” He pulled his short-sleeved shirt back on over his long sleeved one. “I need to get you up that mountain and come back to our ride before it’s snowed in.”
“It looks like we’re already snowed in.” Coming down in big, giant flakes, I had to admit it might’ve been pretty under any other circumstances. But being in the thick of it and feeling how bitter cold it was out there, I really, really didn’t want to leave the SUV. “Can’t you try to just get us back up the road, maybe even a little ways?” My fear of plummeting off the cliff in the Escalade now eclipsed by the actual snow, I pulled my boots off then shoved my leggings down.
“I’m jackknifed on a single-lane road, on an incline, in ten inches of snow with my rear wheel hanging over the edge. You shouldn’t even be sitting in here right now.” He tossed his jacket at me. “Put that on.” He fished out a pair of gloves from his bag behind his seat.
Goose bumps all over my legs, I pulled on the dry leggings, then the jeans. “I’m not taking your jacket.” Shoving my feet back into the boots that’d proved completely useless in the snow, I went on a campaign. “Just try to drive a little further. You can do it.” I had no idea if he could or not, but if anyone could make it work in these conditions, it was him.
His eyes narrowed. “No. Put the jacket on.”
Panic rising, but trying to appease him in case I could change his mind, I put my arms through the too-long sleeves of his jacket. “Can’t you just try? Please?”
Pausing two seconds, he stared at me. His chest rising and falling with an inhale, his dark eyes illuminated only by the eerie cast of the snowfall-covered night, he studied me.
Sensing his hesitation, I begged. “Please.”
“Get out,” he suddenly ordered.
Fear as cold as the snow seized me. “I’ll freeze to dea—”
“Stand five yards back from the vehicle.” His sharp gaze cut away from me, and he looked straight ahead. “Let me try to get the SUV back on the road. If I do, we’ll attempt it. If not, I don’t want you in here if I go over again.” His gaze cut back to me. “And no matter what fucking happens, do not come down the goddamn mountain after me again. Understood?”
My stomach somersaulted. “Understood.”
He nodded. “Good. Two minutes. Get out.”
Not wanting to stand for even two seconds outside, but understanding the compromise he was offering me, I pushed my door open.
Bitter cold blasted me, but with the heavy leather jacket and two pairs of pants on now, it wasn’t as bad as last time. Stepping on the running board first, I carefully lowered one foot then the other into the deep snow.
I turned to shut the door, and his dark eyes caught mine. “Summer.”
I shivered. “Yeah?” I could get lost in his eyes.
“If something happens, don’t hesitate. Follow the road up to the cabin. The unlock code for the door is nineteen eighty-four. There’s a sat phone in the upstairs bedroom and a shotgun in the front hall closet. Call Luna, then wait for him. Don’t answer the door for anyone except him. Understood?”
“Shade—”
“Do not come after me, Summer,” he harshly warned.
Dread filling every ounce of my being, I did the only thing I could.
I agreed. “Okay.”
“Good.” Giving me a short, clipped nod, his gaze left mine and he looked straight ahead. “Shut the door.”
I did as he said.
SHE GODDAMN BEGGED.
Throwing the SUV into drive, hoping like fuck I didn’t go over the cliff again, I slowly gave the beast gas.
The tires spun like I knew they would, but a blue-eyed teenager had begged me to try, so here I was, fucking trying when I should’ve had her halfway up to the cabin by now.
“Goddamn it,” I muttered, throwing the engine in Reverse and glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure she was standing out of range. “Here’s goes nothing.”
Not able to see how far off the road the rear tires were because of the depth of the snow, I took a chance on being able to rock the Escalade out of its current position. Jackknifed across the road, I needed to get the damn vehicle facing one way or another. Preferably toward the cabin.
I gave it gas in Reverse, and the wheels spun but then gripped. The SUV moved a few inches back, and I hit the brakes. Quickly throwing it in Drive before I drifted, I gave it gas again. “Come on, fucking traction control. Move this beast.”
The four-wheel drive gripped, and I moved forward until the front bumper hit the face of the mountain. “That’s it.” Putting it back in Reverse, I turned the wheel.
Taking the Escalade all the way to the edge of the drop-off, then easing forward again, I repeated the process until I finally had the beast not perpendicular on the road but facing toward the cabin.
I put the window down to call to her, but she was already pulling open the passenger d
oor.
“You did it!” Swamped in my jacket, shaking the snow off her hair and shoulders, she got in. “I knew you could.”
“We’re not there yet.” I hated to burst her fucking bubble, but getting the SUV back on the road was the easy part. Getting up the mountain the rest of the way was another story.
“You’ll manage it,” she said confidently.
Who the fuck was this chick? “Says the woman who got close and personal with the Oh Jesus handle.”
“That was before I knew you could drive a Cadillac backward off a mountain.” She put her seat belt on.
Snow dumping, the wipers barely able to keep up, I eased us forward. “That wasn’t driving. That was Escalade skiing.”
She laughed.
Lighthearted and delicate, it reminded me of the way she’d walked out of the restaurant. Some women wore heels like they were born in them, others like their feet were being stabbed, but she’d moved with the kind of grace you couldn’t teach. Ten years on her, and she’d be more sophisticated than any woman I’d ever met.
“I like that, princess,” I admitted.
“What?”
“Your laugh.” The Escalade made the first turn in the switchback we’d lost ground on.
“Yeah, well, I’m just glad not to be out in that.” Rubbing her thighs, she nodded toward her window. “Although it was much more tolerable with your jacket.” She glanced at me. “Thanks for the loaner.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her to keep it.
But I was a thirty-fucking-six-year-old former Force Recon Marine. I didn’t give women articles of clothing like I was a goddamn teen offering up his letter jacket. And I sure as shit didn’t need to give Leo Amherst’s daughter a fucking jacket. She was probably one of the richest trust fund brats on the planet.
“You’re frowning.” Leaning forward, she slid her arms out of my jacket.
“Keep it on,” I snapped, suddenly irrational about her taking it off.
Quietly slipping my jacket back on, she didn’t say anything.
Goddamn it. “It’s for your safety,” I explained.
“Got it.”
No, she didn’t. Not even I got it. Except that I was a fucking sick bastard for thinking about sinking my cock inside her. I’d destroy her teenage cunt. I didn’t care how many men she’d slept with, I’d still destroy her. She was small as fuck, and I knew just from looking at her she wasn’t like the type of women I normally played with.