TRAPPED UNDER ICE (ROCKING ROMANCE COLLECTION)

by M. J. Schiller

  The pain was so intense that Chad thought he was going to vomit. Discovering the location of his wound, Cali decided to drop to a knee on his leg with all her weight. Again, he cried out in anguish. He stretched his hand out toward the gun, but it was at least a foot away. As he watched with swimming eyes, somebody picked it up.

  “Get off him, Cali!” Beth shouted in fury.

  “Oh, come on, Beth. Like you would use that on me.”

  “I sure don’t want to, Cal, but I will if I have to.” Her face displayed a fierce determination.

  “Like you even know how to work it,” Cali responded, though her confidence was wavering.

  “My dad taught me. Two-time State Champ.”

  Cali eyed her intently, trying to determine whether or not she was telling the truth. In the end, she decided to give up, making sure to grind her knee in one more time as she stood. She backed up against the boards.

  Chad rolled over on his back with a groan. He was panting with his eyes shut and his face pinched with pain.

  “Are you okay, babe?” Beth asked, chancing a quick glance at him.

  “Yeah,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

  “I’m going to check on Roger. Back up, Cali.”

  She did as she was told, stepping through the doorway and onto the concrete. Roger sat up, shaking his head, a large gash open on his forehead. Beth bent down to help him and Cali took the opportunity to run from the room. They looked up just as the door closed behind her.

  “It’s okay, Beth. Let her go. The cops are probably out there in mass by now.”

  She helped him, shakily, to his feet. Glancing over the boards, she saw Chad was sitting up. “Maybe I should leave you two here and go get you some medical help.”

  “No way!” Roger insisted. “We’re not splitting up.” He grinned through his pain.

  “Okay,” Beth said, grinning back. The two of them managed to get Chad on his feet, or one foot anyway, and they made their way slowly, but surely, out to the stage area, where they could hear a lot of commotion.

  When they entered, they could see a lot of policemen standing in a circle. One of the men shifted his weight and Beth spotted a foot with a familiar shoe. She rushed forward, forgetting for a moment she was helping to support Chad. The men parted as she came up behind them, revealing her friend’s broken body lying on the stage, limbs jutting out at unnatural angles.

  Beth fell to her knees beside the lifeless body. “Oh, Cal,” she whispered in despair. She reached out and held her hand, bringing it up with her hands as she sought to cover her eyes. Her shoulders began to shake as she cried for her friend. The men stood around respectfully, but after awhile, exchanged uncomfortable looks with one another. Chad and Roger shuffled over. Chad put a hand on her head, wishing he could scoop her up in his arms, but his injured leg made it impossible. She placed Cali’s hand across her friend’s chest, then laid her head down on top of it and started weeping anew. Her naked grief was about killing everyone in the room, especially those who loved her. Chad looked at Roger, a helpless expression on his face.

  Roger signaled to a police officer to take his place supporting Chad. He squatted down beside Beth, rubbing her back. Two men arrived with a stretcher, but hung back, giving her time to say her goodbyes. Roger gazed down at Cali’s face, so pretty now that it wasn’t disfigured with rage. He had really begun to like her, and could not reconcile the fun-loving Cali of the night before with the murderous one of today. He couldn’t even imagine what Beth must be going through with all the memories the two of them shared.

  After several minutes, she finally pulled away from Cali, lifting her chest as if it was made of lead. Beth peered into her face again, and felt a fresh wave of grief push into her heart. She turned and sobbed as Roger wrapped his arms around her, placing his cheek against her temple. The stretcher attendants looked at him, and he nodded. They began to load the body and prepare to take it away. A second set of attendants arrived to take care of Chad.

  “Sir, we need to get a look at your leg.”

  Chad seemed unwilling to leave Beth’s side. “In a minute.”

  “Sir, I think we need to attend to it now. You don’t look good.”

  It was true; he was as white as their shirts. Beth stirred and Roger helped her to her feet.

  “We’re going to need to treat that cut, too,” they said to Roger. Two EMTs helped Chad onto the stretcher and started to check his vital signs. The paramedics, who had finished loading Cali’s body onto a gurney and covered it with a sheet, now turned to Roger to examine his wound.

  “Come here, babe,” Chad called out to Beth.

  She plodded over to him, and when she saw his ashen face, worry replaced the pain in her eyes. She stroked his face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he reassured her. “I’m sorry, Beth.” His voice cracked.

  She nodded without saying anything, tears dropping onto his arm. He reached up, forgetting the paramedic was trying to take his blood pressure, and put his fingers underneath the hair at the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing away the tears still coursing down her cheeks. He pulled her in gently to kiss her, the salt of her tears flavoring their kiss.

  “Sir, we’re going to need to take you to the hospital now.” She lifted her eyes to the paramedics. “You can ride with us. I want the doctor to check you out, too. Just to make sure.”

  “Damn! That hurts!” Roger yelped. “Be careful!”

  “I’m trying to, sir,” a paramedic replied patiently. He looked up as the other team passed. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Beth sat without speaking beside Chad in the ambulance as the paramedics started an IV and continued to monitor him. Despite how worried he was about her, Chad eventually drifted off to sleep, worn out by his ordeal and loss of blood.

  In the hospital, he was whisked off to surgery to remove the bullet in his thigh and repair the damage it caused. Across the hall from him, surgeons had already been working for some time on Pete’s wound. Roger arrived and griped the entire time they were suturing the cut on his head. It turned out he only had a mild concussion and he was released after a few hours.

  The doctor prescribed a sedative for Beth, but she refused to take it until Chad was out of surgery. She sat with David, who held her hand for hours. He resisted asking her questions about what happened in the stadium and gave the detectives hovering around them dark looks whenever they seemed about to approach. Instead, he sat and rubbed his thumb over Beth’s hand and simply waited with her. In the end, Roger joined them, sitting on her other side, uncharacteristically quiet. It was as if what they went through together secretly bonded them, and they felt comforted only in each other’s presence.

  Pete pulled through surgery, and it seemed as if the robust bodyguard was well on his way to a full recovery. Chad was eventually rolled out of surgery, weak, but without complications. When he woke up, Beth was so overwhelmed with relief she started crying again. David convinced her to take the sedative.

  Chad gave her a feeble smile, lifting his arm so she could climb onto the bed with him. His height required the staff to get a special bed for him, which was also wider, providing them with ample room. The feel of his arm around her served as a further sedative and soon the two were asleep. For hours nurses came and went, checking his vitals while the two slept, oblivious.

  After they woke up, Roger offered to call Cali’s and Beth’s boss, and she allowed him to, asking him to tell her boss she would call when she was feeling better in a couple of days. He struggled through the phone call. How did you tell someone their friend snapped and killed an innocent man and wounded three others and now was dead? The police told them she tried to escape over the catwalk, chased by several officers. When she saw more policemen approaching from the other end of the catwalk, she tried to slide down one of the many cables hanging from the ceiling, but lost her grip and came crashing down onto the stage. She landed awkwardly, snapping
her neck and killing her instantly.

  Chad was released from the hospital, after raising hell, to attend Cali’s funeral in a wheelchair. The rest of the band was there, too, to support Beth. She decided not to return to the kitchen in the fall, realizing it wouldn’t be the same without Cali. Her boss would have the rest of the summer to replace them.

  The summer seemed to drag on forever for Beth. She couldn’t seem to shake herself from the funk that settled over her. Her days were full of physical therapy appointments for Chad and Pete, who came to live with them for the summer. Her nights were often full of frightening images of Dante’s face on Cali’s pillow, Chad’s screams of pain at the ice rink, and Cali’s body sprawled across the stage.

  Her pain seemed to lighten some when they returned to the tour buses in the fall. In some ways it was difficult, because it reminded them of what took place the last time they were all on the buses, but on the whole, it helped to be back together. They seemed to draw strength from each other.

  One day, Chad and Roger returned to the bus after a shorter-than-usual sound check. They found Beth staring aimlessly out the window, dressed only in a faded denim, button-down shirt of Chad’s and panties, her laptop open on the table, reading glasses perched on her nose. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even hear them enter the bus.

  “Ahem,” Chad cleared his throat.

  She looked over, startled out of her reverie, and realized she wasn’t dressed in an appropriate way for company. She comically tried to stretch her shirt down to cover more of her legs.

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” She grabbed a throw from off the back of a couch and wrapped it around her lower half.

  “No need to be,” Roger answered lustily.

  Chad wore a goofy smile, also affected by the sight of her in his shirt, wearing the glasses he found so sexy. They always reminded him of a teacher, and he desired to be her naughty student.

  Beth hurriedly closed her laptop. “I’ll just go get dressed.”

  “No need to on account of me,” Roger teased, watching her as she left. She turned back at the last minute, her face red, but a smile playing on her lips, something they hadn’t seen for some time.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Chad told him with a grin. “That’s the first smile I’ve seen on Beth’s face in a long time.” He reached into the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers.

  “She’ll get better. It’s just gonna take some time, is all.”

  “Yeah,” Chad responded, looking wistfully over at the door she just vanished behind.

  “How’s the leg?”

  “Not bad. Hurt a little when I was playing tonight, though. It was weird being in a stadium again,” he added, his voice subdued.

  Roger nodded, but didn’t comment further, taking a chug of his beer.

  “How’s Cassie settling in at school?”

  “Oh,” he answered, brightening, “she’s doing great. She worries about Beth some. Calls just about every night. She met some guy, though.” He frowned. “I’m not sure if I like that.”

  Roger smiled at the thought of Chad, the overprotective stepfather; although the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit him, being an overprotective brother for so long. “I met someone, too,” the guitarist slipped in.

  “What?” Chad sat up straighter. “Tell me about her.”

  He laughed. “Her name is Susie. She’s a dental hygienist.” He took a long pull on his beer, thinking. “Actually, she reminds me a lot of Cali,” he murmured. Then, he chuckled. “Same irreverent sense of humor.”

  “Can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Well”—he jumped up, draining his beer—“I guess I should get going.”

  “You’re going back to your bus to call her, aren’t you?” Chad asked, grinning.

  .“Shut up!” he sniped, trying to evade his eyes. “See ya later.”

  Chad sat for a few minutes, thinking about how sad Beth appeared to be when they first came in. He finished his beer and ambled back to the bedroom. She sat at his desk, her laptop open, but he felt sure she hadn’t written anything. He was glad to see she hadn’t changed. He pulled his t-shirt off without saying anything, a little sweaty from playing guitar, and sat down on the end of the bed.

  “Come here,” he suggested, unable to keep the need out of his voice. As of late, the times that they’d made love had been few and far between, what with the soreness in his thigh and her lingering grief. He was patient with her, although it was difficult. Now, he was rewarded with a smile.

  She untangled her legs and walked over to him slowly, tantalizingly. He could tell by the look on her face she wanted him, too, and it made his desire sharp. When she reached him, he ran his hands up the back of her smooth thighs, breathing in through his teeth, his anticipation heightening his senses. She let her eyes and hands explore his body. He carefully removed her glasses, and then tossed them aside without care. She giggled, and he relished the sound of it, his heart soaring with the memory of her as she used to be.

  She brought a knee up on the side of the bed, and then on his other side, straddling him as he supported her with his hands under her tight tush. That simple movement made him feel as if he were losing his mind. Her hands were on either side of his face leading her as she leaned in to kiss him. His hands slid up her sides, surprised and pleased to find she had nothing on underneath the shirt besides the panties. He swung her around onto the bed and let himself go, burying his face in her neck, running his tongue along the sweet curve there, sucking her flesh into his mouth and applying pressure with his teeth. She moaned and undulated beneath him, her hips rising to press against his groin. His hands worked on shirt buttons, pulling the cloth away, exposing more flesh. Their lovemaking was furious and animalistic, their need driving them beyond their control.

  Finally, with an explosion of bliss, they quieted, lying in each other’s arms, their sweat commingling, breathing heavily, but with satisfaction, finally sated. They lay without speaking as the sky outside began to darken. He twined his fingers in hers, squeezing them gently, and broke the silence.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  She sat up on her side hurriedly. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “No. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

  “I know. I’ve missed you, too,” she avowed. Beth ran her hand back and forth over his chest rhythmically, contemplating something. “Do you think it’s strange I miss her?” She didn’t need to explain who she was talking about, as it was the person who consumed her thoughts of late.

  “No, of course not. She was a very important part of your life.”

  “But…she tried to kill you.”

  He frowned, trying to explain the unexplainable. “But that was not the Cali we loved. It was not the Cali who made you laugh, who was always by your side when you needed her. What happened to her really wasn’t her fault in a lot of ways.”

  “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  “No. And I think you need to go to great measures to show me,” he commented suggestively.

  Beth laughed and slapped him lightly on the chest. She sighed with contentment. “This is the best I’ve felt in a long time.”

  “I’m glad.” He kissed her hair.

  Pete pounded on the outside of the bus. “You have a half hour.”

  “Slave-driver!” he called out, disgruntled. He kissed Beth once more, rolling out of bed to jump in the shower. When he came out of the bathroom, to his surprise, he found Beth fixing herself up. He looked at her quizzically.

  “Do you think we could work in a little ‘I Just Had to Have You Last Night’?”

  “Damn straight!”

  ***

  It was Thanksgiving and Beth and Chad were at her sister, Dana’s house. Roger and Susie joined them, wanting to spend time together, but not quite ready for the whole meet-the-parents thing. Beth liked Susie, even though the hygienist reminded her a lot of Cali. She had the same off-beat sense of humor.

 
“Uncle Chad! Uncle Chad!” her nephews, Sean and Patty, called, barreling into the room.

  “Whoa! Whoa, there. What’s all the excitement?” Chad held out his hands to keep them from slamming into the couch.

  “Will you play Guitar Hero with us?”

  “Guitar Hero? Sure.” Then, he remembered his wife. “That is, if it’s all right with you, Beth?”

  “Sure,” she answered dryly. “Go ahead.”

  Not taking the hint, he was off the couch and scampering away, a nephew grabbing each hand and pulling him toward the basement door.

  “Well, that’s the last I’ll see of him tonight,” Beth commented, getting up to get another drink. “More wine, Suz?”

  “Why not?”

  “Pete?”

  “Sure. Let me help you,” he offered, starting to rise from his chair.

  “No. You relax. I’ve got it.”

  Beth refilled her glass of Riesling and wrestled the Shiraz away from her Uncle John, to refill Pete’s and Susie’s. Giving her uncle a kiss on the cheek, she returned to the living room with the three glasses. “I’m going to go down and see how Chad’s doing on Guitar Hero.”

  As soon as she thought Beth was out of earshot, Dana turned to the group. “They’re on the road together day in and day out. Don’t they ever get sick of each other?”

  “Never,” Roger, Pete, and Susie answered simultaneously.

  Quite a crowd, mostly her nieces and nephews, were gathered around the TV downstairs as Chad took Patty on in Guitar Hero. Kids wriggled on the floor, slouched in chairs, and a few even sat on the foosball table—something Beth was pretty sure Dana would not approve of. The song finished, and Patty hollered, “Ha. I beat you again, Uncle Chad. And it’s your own song!”

  “Yeah, well…” Chad growled.

  Beth came up behind him. “Honey,” she whispered in his ear, among the hooting and hollering and general hubbub, “you have nothing to prove here. You are a three-time platinum record holder. This isn’t even a real guitar. You know you’d smoke him with a real guitar.”