Runaway

by Katie Cross

  So the question remained: What would kill me first?

  When Mark stumbled and shouted, Joshua's entire body tightened. As if he'd finally measured himself against Mark and realized how lacking he was. The blade moved away from my throat the tiniest amount in that moment of hesitation. Through the pounding in my head and the waves of tremors that slipped through me, I understood it would be my only chance. Not on any planet could Mark get from there to me in enough time to save my life, and he knew it.

  I knew it.

  Now I wouldn't let Joshua have the satisfaction. It was time for my revenge.

  With a grunt, I shoved Joshua's arm away from my throat and dropped to the ground. My sudden, unexpected weight shifted Joshua's balance, and he stumbled forward. The knife slipped, grazed my throat as I fell, then disappeared in the snow at our feet.

  A second later, the sound of a thud connected on top of me, and Joshua's weight was gone.

  Another body had come from somewhere, tackling Joshua to the ground in a flurry of snow and rolling bodies. Benjamin popped out of the haze of white, his legs wrapped around Joshua's waist and his arm across his throat. Joshua thrashed uselessly in the snow.

  With a cry, I tried to scramble back to my feet, but stumbled on the rocks. Another pair of arms caught me. Mark appeared, his warm hands on my face.

  “Stell. I've got you.”

  My knees toppled, but he caught me.

  “Mark! I . . .”

  “I'm here.”

  “He . . . I thought . . . a-a-and—”

  Mark hauled me back to my feet, then grabbed the zipper of my coat. “Take this off, Stell. We'll discuss all of it when we get back home. For now, you've gotta warm up.”

  My hands trembled as I attempted to wrench the half-frozen coat off. He yanked it free, tossed it to the ground, and reached for my soaking wet shirt. When he ripped it off over my head, I let out a cry. Snow fell on my shoulders and soaking bra. Cold rushed over me all over again.

  “W-w-what are you doing?”

  “It'll take us at least thirty minutes to work our way back through the trees, maybe twenty by the road,” he said, ripping his own jacket off. “You can't be wearing those clothes that whole time. You have to start warming up sooner, at least at your core.”

  Bare arms slipped out of his jacket. He only wore a short-sleeved shirt beneath his winter jacket, which he jerked around me, then zipped up while I pushed my arms through the sleeves. They were warm from his heat, thick with his reassuring scent.

  “Wh-what about you?”

  “I'm fine.” He scoffed. “Hot as an oven.”

  Joshua's muffled shouts had faded. His eyelids slowly lowered until his body went limp. Just before he passed out, Benjamin released him, then held out a hand to Mark.

  “Atty's rope?”

  Mark tossed a rope his way. With surprisingly deft movements, Benjamin shoved a half-delirious Joshua onto his stomach, then tied Joshua's hands together. Still sluggish from almost passing out, Joshua didn't even protest. Just made weird, half-mewling sounds.

  Mark put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, but turned to Benjamin. “You got him?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “It'll be faster on the road. Follow my tracks back and I'll send someone to pick you up. Sound good?”

  Benjamin nodded, then sent a hard smack against Joshua's head. “Go. Get her taken care of. Joshua and I have some chatting to do about how we treat women around here.”

  “The cat is retreating, I think.”

  “I'll feed Joshua to him if I have to. We'll be fine.”

  “Atty, stay. Follow me, Stell,” Mark commanded quietly. “We'll be back home in no time.”

  30

  Mark

  “I-I can r-run.”

  Stella stuttered the syllables as soon as we spilled out of the forest and onto the road. Two sets of tire tracks broke through the snow on the road, which gave me discernible relief. Justin had already made it back, and likely my dad with him. They must have been hauling through the canyon to get here so quickly.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  She nodded as her body wracked with another shiver. The blood on her face made her cold face paler than usual, and her hair had frozen in weird clumps along her head. Fatigue showed in all her movements.

  I hesitated, then nodded. If she could do it, the sooner, the better.

  “Let me know if it hurts too much? I'll happily carry you on my back, but this would be faster. Warmer for you, too.”

  I kept a hand on her back as she slowly shuffled forward with a grimace, then waved it off when I asked. We moved in a slow walk/jog, but it was faster than I'd expected. About fifteen minutes later, twirling red and blue lights greeted us as we stumbled back to Adventura. Two bodies moved near the front door, and a third lingered in the cop car.

  “Justin!” I called. “Dad!”

  Seconds later, Justin jogged across the parking lot, Dad striding out with his long steps right behind him. Justin slowed in front of us, eyeing my bare arms and her frozen clumps of hair with incredulous eyes.

  Dad was only a few steps away. “What happened?” he asked.

  “Benjamin is back on the road.” I jerked my head back. “He has Joshua tied up. I told him I'd send you. Atticus is with him if the mountain lion hasn't gotten them.”

  “Mountain lion?” Justin cried.

  “It's a long story.”

  Justin reached a hand out to Stella's shoulder, concern in his gaze. “Are you all right, Stell?”

  She nodded, but it wasn't immediately clear from her violent shivering.

  “What happened?” Dad asked again.

  “I'll explain it all later. Dad, can you get Ben and Joshua? I don't want anything to happen to Ben or Atticus.”

  He already fished for his keys in his pocket. “I'm on it. A few more deputies are on their way, just like you asked, but the canyon is ugly. Might take a bit to get them here through the snow. Get her inside. I'll take care of this out here.”

  Stella followed as I led her through the parking lot, Justin on her other side. Heat blasted us in the face when we shoved into the house. Justin shut the door behind us.

  “Meg!” he called.

  She appeared from the side room. One look at Stella and concern lit up her eyes. Only a moment passed before she'd taken the situation in and stepped forward.

  “Hey Stell.”

  “I'll get the shower going,” Justin said.

  “I'll help her get in,” Megan said, then reached for her. “Geez, girl. You're a literal bloody popsicle. C'mon. I happen to be a professional at this. This might really suck at first, by the way. Rewarming hurts, but the fact that you're shivering and talking is an excellent sign. I hope the other guy looks worse.”

  Within seconds, Stella was whisked away from me and into Megan's comforting, quiet prattle. It smoothed over the strange edges of this situation and made it not so frightening to release her. The door to the bathroom firmly shut. Justin reappeared, his expression still shocked as he stared at me.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  My hands shook when I collapsed into a chair, put my head in my hands, and said nothing. He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

  “Whatever happened out there, she's okay now. You did it, Mark.”

  For lack of any better response, I just nodded. The whole scene replayed itself in my mind with the feeling of seeing it from a different point of view. The knife at her throat. The rage in Joshua's voice. The fear in her eyes. For several minutes, I spiraled there until Justin clapped me on the shoulder.

  “Get up,” he said firmly. “Get upstairs, get a change of warm clothes. I'll get some coffee going and the fire built up. Do whatever you have to do to pull it together, all right? You can crash later, but not now.”

  His commanding tone shook me from the stupor. I ran a hand through my hair. The frozen strands had thawed, and it felt wet between my fingers. He was right. Stella neede
d me now.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Justin extended a hand, which I took, then yanked me off the couch. He met my gaze. “You did it, Mark. You saved her.”

  Relief flooded me.

  “We saved each other,” I said quietly.

  Justin grinned. “It's how the real ones work.” He sobered. “Get changed so you can warm up, then get back down here for coffee, all right? It sucks after all you've gone through too, but you need to get yourself together for Stella. She looks like she just about died three times over, she'll need you. You'll have time with her once we can get this sorted out. It's going to be okay now, Mark. You'll both be okay.”

  31

  Stella

  Hours later, the final deputy nodded to Mark's dad.

  “Thanks, Jim, always good to see you. Let's make it under better circumstances in the future, all right?”

  With a laugh, Jim shut the door on him.

  Atticus sat on the couch not far away, belly full of warmed canned chicken and rice. A special meal for the hero dog. A quick call to the vet had cleared Atty of immediate poisoning issues, but just to be sure, he had an appointment the next day. Justin kept a firm eye on his every move.

  From the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, my hair blown dry at Megan's insistence, the house had been filled with Mark's family or deputies. Benjamin stayed long enough to give his version of the story, then left with a promise to be in touch soon.

  “You're a wild man,” he'd said to Mark as he left. “A manimal. Can't wait to set up here.”

  Now, Megan and Justin spoke quietly across the room where they snuggled near the ladder, his arms around her. The warm scent of cream of chicken soup filled the air. Crusty bread bowls littered the small table, some half-filled, thanks to the dinner JJ and Lizbeth had brought with them. Sara, Mark's mother, had puttered around the house cleaning everything while hovering over me with a loving, protective touch. Now, the three of them were in the kitchen, conspiring over a sugary dessert to keep the mood elevated before they dispersed.

  Meanwhile, Mark had remained near me like a shadow while Jim orchestrated the entire crime scene investigation, retirement notwithstanding. Jim’s explanations and suppositions thumped dully around my head, and I considered for the tenth time that all of this wasn't real.

  Megan's help in a warm shower had been absolutely necessary and had sped the painful rewarming process up. But I still sat by the fire now, wrapped in a pair of yoga pants under my sweats, three pairs of Mark's warmest wool socks, and several layers of long-sleeved shirts. My shivering had stopped, but my nose still ached. Bruising had already started along the bottom of both eyes, making me look like a pale raccoon.

  At some point during one discussion with a police officer, Mark had dropped one of his other zippered sweatshirts around my shoulders. His smell had anchored me, brought me out of the weird disbelief that punctuated every second, and I felt instantly warmer.

  Despite the heat, any touch of cold air from the storm outside came with another round of shivers. Not all of them were from the cold.

  Joshua had been loaded into the first cop car that had arrived and eventually taken away. Several people had spoken with me, and I'd answered all their questions while slowly sipping whatever warm drink Justin shoved at me next. The coffee restored my mental abilities with surprising speed. The general busyness in the cabin whisked away thoughts of Joshua. Of mountain lions. Of freezing in the depths of the forest.

  Mark and I still hadn't spoken outside our desperate conversation on the road. There hadn't been a chance for me to say all the things that I wanted to say.

  Jim stood with his hand on the doorknob now and faced me. I stood at the fire, a mug of tea in my hands. What looked like a glower was, I imagined, deep concern. That Mark's father would give me that look sent a warm bolt through me.

  “You'll be okay, Stella Marie,” he said quietly. “You're one tough cookie.”

  I managed a small smile. “Thanks for everything, Jim.”

  He winked. “My pleasure. I've missed this. The good stuff always happens after you retire,” he finished in a mumble, then turned to his son. “Call.”

  “I will.” Mark embraced him with a manly back slap. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Megan shuffled forward and grabbed her coat off a hook. Snow fell even harder now, accumulating on the porch in piles already inches deep. “We'll walk you out, Dad.” She turned to Mark. “Then we'll go hang out in the kitchen and help with dessert for a bit. Give you some time. I'll usher Mom home after that, okay? She won't dote all night long.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, Meg.”

  Megan gave him a quick hug, Justin smacked him on the shoulder, and they both shuffled out. Mark quietly closed the door behind them. Then he sighed, leaned his head on it for a moment, and let out a long breath. The silence rang through the cabin, at odds with the bustling environment that had moved around for the last several hours. I opened my mouth but closed it again when he straightened and swung around to face me.

  Fatigue lined his features. A thousand other things, too. Concern. Fear. Worry. After we'd returned, he'd changed into a pair of workout pants and a long-sleeved shirt that pulled tight across the shoulders. He'd watched me carefully, and stayed close. Like me, he'd seemed to carefully avoid any direct interaction, as if that would force us to acknowledge and face exactly what happened.

  “Stell,” he whispered huskily as he closed the space between us. With a trapped sob, I let him capture me in his arms and crush me against him. My legs wound around his waist as I tried to claw him closer. A little cry peeped out of me as he tightened his hold.

  “I thought I'd lost you,” he whispered.

  “Me too.”

  For so many heartbeats I lost track, I kept my arms around him, my body pressed to his. He stood there, holding me in front of the fire, until I pulled back, framed his face in my hands, and whispered, “You saved me.”

  “No, Stella Marie. You've saved me.”

  Tears filled my eyes when I pressed a slow kiss to his lips. My fingers found their way to his hair again. His hand slid up my back as I tilted my head to deepen the kiss. He growled, whirled us around, and dropped us both to the couch. His warmth enveloped me from head to toe as he kissed me breathless, pulling a blanket over us as I stretched along with him.

  I pulled away to catch my breath.

  “Thank you, Mark.”

  “I love you.” He pushed a strand of hair out of my face. “I love you more than anything I've ever known.”

  Tears filled my eyes again. “I love you too.”

  He broke slightly beneath me at the words, then swallowed hard. “Can I stay with you tonight? I just . . . I want you near. Forever, Stella. This is it for me. There is nothing but us now.”

  “Me too,” I whispered, then burrowed into his neck and closed my eyes. He tucked me into his side and played with my hair. I tried to memorize the feel of him. The smell of him. The absolute comfort of his heartbeat slamming in my ear.

  Because he saved me, and I saved him.

  And always would.

  Epilogue

  Stella Marie | Six months later.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous before.”

  Mark stared at the building set beneath a bright blue sky. Sunlight pushed through the rental car windows with a curl of warmth that chased away the lingering spring storm we’d left behind in the mountains.

  “Not ever?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  I reached over, grabbed his hand, and pulled his chin until he faced me. Then I smiled. “Grandma is going to love you, Mark. Don’t stress about it.”

  He slammed a quick kiss into my lips, then disappeared. He was already out the door and stretching from the hour-long drive as I chuckled, climbed out, and shoved the keys into my back pocket. Green shrubs, trees, and the quiet shuffle of movement filled the air as I beeped the lock, then reached out for Mark. His hand slid effortlessly
into mine, without a second thought, and I tugged him toward the main door.

  “She’s a pretty easy audience.”

  “Well, she did give Joshua your number.”

  I shot him a look of warning—he better not bring that up—and he winked. Joshua wallowed in prison on several local and federal charges. He’d be locked up for a good, long while. Just the way he deserved.

  “I’m excited to see her,” I said with a delicious little shiver. He squeezed my fingers.

  “Me too, Stella Marie. Me too.”

  He pulled the door open and put a hand on the small of my back as I slipped by, the hot Floridian air ushering us inside. Two steps into the main waiting area, and I came to a quick stop with a gasp.

  A banner of balloons and an assortment of people in wheelchairs, walkers, or loafers, waited only a few feet away. Grandma sat in the midst of them, her pillow of gray hair and bright smile like a beacon.

  “Welcome!” came several stuttered shouts, and Grandma smacked an old man with a baseball cap that said RANGER across the top.

  “Bad timing!” she squawked. “We’re supposed to say it together!”

  Another poorly timed effort followed, and I giggled into my hands. Seeing Grandma, and her entire Bunco club, sent a frisson of electricity all the way through me. Mark’s family had been so warm and accepting. Now, mine could be as well.

  She stood up, arms bent and hands on her hips.

  “Well?”

  With a laugh, I stepped forward and embraced her. She held me tight, her soft skin and the quiet tremble in her voice just like home.

  “I’m always glad to hug you,” she said in a teary voice. “But that’s not what I meant.”

  Startled, I pulled away. “What do you mean?”

  “Well?” She motioned behind me. “What are you going to say?”