Blizzard (BearPaw Resort #2)

by Cambria Hebert

  I watched her grab her purse off the island and look inside. “They left my ID and cash. How nice of them,” she murmured, setting it aside.

  She looked out of place standing there looking around like a stranger to her own things. Her arms wrapped around her middle. I went to her immediately, enclosing my body around hers from behind.

  “This is harder than I thought it would be.” She confessed.

  “You thought coming here would be easy?”

  She shook her head. “No. It’s strange, though,” she muttered. “I thought the hardest part would be seeing the kitchen, remembering that night that man was here with a gun.”

  I closed my eyes against the images her words produced. Closing my eyes didn’t make them harder to see, though. If anything, the darkness just removed all other distractions, making those vivid, unwanted pictures more prominent.

  “But that’s not the worse part.”

  The trembling in her voice made my eyes pop open. Tenderness and the need to shield her came over me. I moved around so I could look into her sorrowful eyes.

  “Ah, baby. Tell me.” I urged.

  “It’s the emptiness of this place. The loneliness,” she whispered, glancing around. Her eyes found mine again. “Can you feel it, too?”

  I felt as though someone had just kicked my puppy. “I feel it.”

  “I didn’t realize that night I ran out of here, I wasn’t just fleeing from a man with a gun. I was fleeing from my own life. I was so lonely here, Liam. So lost. I had to be someone I wasn’t just so I could be someone at all.”

  Her chin lifted, and a single tear tracked over her cheek. “I had no idea just how miserable I was until I spent a few weeks with you. Coming back here, it’s…” Her words fell off, and she shook her head. “It almost shocks me.”

  I gathered her close, holding her more tightly than I had since the avalanche. I’d been too worried about her shoulder, but now I realized her shoulder wasn’t the worst of her wounds.

  No. The worst was the fracture inside her, the one that still seemed to be slowly pulling apart. The nights and days of solitude. The day in and day out fear. Of being someone she wasn’t because it was better than being dead.

  She lifted her head. Her expression was helpless when she asked, “Do you think it’s better to live like you’re dead just for the sake of living? Or die because you refused to stop existing?”

  I made a sound of torment and strife. “I can’t answer that, baby,” I rasped, pushing her back into my body. I couldn’t look in her eyes right now. I couldn’t see the look on her face while the words she just spoke lingered in the air, clinging to my skin like damp fog on a rainy night.

  Keeping my arms crushed around her, feeling her breath on my neck, I spoke close to her head. “It’s over now.” I soothed. “You aren’t going to be alone ever again. You have me, and we’re going to build a family. You can go back to being a chef. You can be whoever and whatever it is you want. I’m going to make you happy again, Bells.”

  She pulled back enough to look into my face. “Liam,” she whispered. “You’ve already made me happy. So happy.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I vowed.

  She rubbed her damp cheek with the back of her hand and sighed. “You paint a beautiful picture.”

  My brows drew together. “It’s not a picture. It’s a promise.”

  Bellamy stretched up and kissed me. I wasn’t a man who would turn down some sugar, not from his favorite girl anyway. Even if she was trying to distract me.

  When her lips left mine, the rest of her pulled away, too. “I’ll pack up my clothes. Then we can leave. I don’t like it here.”

  I wasn’t a fan of this place either. Fuck.

  As she stepped away, our hands slipped apart. I started after her, then backtracked to the coffee table where there were some boxes stacked and ready to be packed.

  I made a face. The sweater-wearing douchebag of a landlord left them for us. According to the cops, he wanted to pack up her crap, take it to the local dump, and then get the place rented again.

  Frankly, I thought I deserved an award for not decking him in the face already. That was some serious control I was emitting.

  The thought of him going through her things, deciding everything she had was trash, royally pissed me off. The cops stopped him, though. This was a crime scene after all. Bells might not like this place, but she had a right to pack up anything she wanted to keep.

  “How many boxes do you think you need, sweetheart?”

  She stopped just shy of entering the bedroom and gazed back. “Just a few. I don’t have very much.”

  Those words kicked me in the nads, too. Fuck, she was slaying me today. I knew everything she’d been through, and it sucked. But seeing it? Feeling it?

  I picked up the boxes and shook my head. I could spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to her, but it still wouldn’t be enough.

  I couldn’t help but ask myself, repeatedly, if this would have happened if I’d just fought for her eight years ago.

  Bellamy walked into her room and stood in the beam of sunlight let in from what I assumed was a window. The light turned her hair a golden shade, which made her look like a living, breathing angel when she turned to smile at me from over her shoulder.

  “There’s something I want to show you.”

  The worst of the storm battering my insides subsided. Her smile could do that. Her smile had the ability to quiet my greatest demons.

  “Oh yeah?” I grinned. “You got something sexy—”

  Something glinted through the light, flickering off her hair and disrupting the whole angel look she had going on.

  My instincts literally screamed. They screamed so hard a yell erupted out of my mouth. Everything morphed into slow motion, seeming to take an excruciating amount of time.

  “Get down!” I roared, throwing the boxes into the room and leaping across the distance separating us.

  I watched her face change from a teasing smile to one of confusion, then fear. The sound of shattering glass exploded in the room. I knocked into Bellamy, wrapping my arms around her and taking us both to the floor.

  We hit the carpet with a hard thud as a bullet plowed into the wall behind us.

  Confusion and chaos broke out around us. In the other room, the door to the apartment burst in. Officers were shouting. Cold winter wind rushed the room, the curtains flapped against the wall, and the sound of my breathing threatened to drown out everything else.

  Under me, Bellamy struggled, but I used my weight to keep her prone. Keeping my body on top of hers, I lifted my head and shielded hers with my arms as I looked at the bullet embedded in the wall. It was right where she’d been standing.

  “Stay down!” One of the officers warned from the doorway, his gun drawn.

  “Liam?” Bellamy’s voice was muffled against the carpet.

  “Stay still,” I told her. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

  “What about you?” She fretted.

  Someone just tried to snipe her, and she was worried about me?

  “I’m fine, sweetheart. Stay still.”

  “Clear!” the officers yelled, and then the three of them swarmed the interior of the room.

  From the doorway, the landlord was being super helpful. “Was that a gunshot?” he exclaimed. “What the hell is going on here? I thought this apartment was secure! I’ll never be able to rent it out now.”

  I pushed up, twisting around to glare at him.

  He shut up and slunk backward.

  Bellamy rolled so she was staring up at me. “They shot through the window.”

  I glanced over the mattress at the shattered window, then back down. “Yes.”

  “You shoved me out of the way.”

  “Of course I did.” I smoothed some hair back off her face.

  “You could have gotten shot!”

  “I didn’t.”

  “That doesn’t make this okay!” she cried, h
er voice verging on hysteric.

  “We need to get you out of here,” an officer said from above us. “We have units dispatched to the building across the street, but the shooter probably will be long gone.”

  I nodded once and pushed up off Bellamy. The officers covered me when I pulled Bells to her feet. I wrapped my arm around her, putting my body in front of hers.

  If the shooter was still there, he would have to shoot through the cops and me to get to her.

  “‘C’mon. Away from the window.”

  All of us moved as a unit out into the main living area, making sure to stand away from the window, which had a curtain drawn over it. Why the curtain wasn’t drawn over the bedroom window, I would like to fucking know.

  My heart was still pounding and my hands shook from the rush of adrenaline. I wanted to pace, to rush across the street and find this assassin, wrap my hands around his neck, and squeeze until the light of life left his eyes.

  Brutal?

  Hell yeah.

  Regretful?

  Fuck no.

  Bellamy’s shaking hand gripped the front of my shirt. “Liam?”

  “Hmm?” I gazed down, trying to bank the murderous feelings.

  “How’d you know?”

  “Know?”

  She nodded, her eyes wide, pupils dilated. She was in shock. “Know there was a gun.”

  “I’d like to know that, too,” one of the detectives said, holding his gun down at his side. The other detective was across the room, speaking rapidly into a phone.

  “It glinted off her hair. I just… I had this feeling.” More like I almost pissed my pants in panic. I wasn’t going to tell anyone that. Thank fuck I’d just moved on instinct instead of trying to find some logic first.

  Jesus. She almost got shot right in front of me.

  “Well, you probably just saved her life,” the officer said, as if he was telling me the weather outside.

  I swung around, anger getting the better of me. “Isn’t that what you’re here for? What the fuck was that? Shouldn’t you have known this was going to happen?” I stabbed my finger in his direction. “You should never have told her she could come here.”

  “Liam.” Bellamy soothed, putting a palm against my middle. My breath heaved and my eyes stayed focused on the man. But my hand settled over hers. “They can’t know everything.”

  I barked a laugh. “We’re getting the hell out of Chicago, and we aren’t coming back.”

  “They’ll follow you,” the officer said. “Witness protection—”

  “No!” Bellamy cried, stepping a little in front of me. “I won’t do it. I’ll be in danger either way. I need to be in control of my own life.”

  “You’re putting everyone around you in danger, too,” the officer told her, his eyes sliding to me, then back.

  She jolted as though he’d slapped her. I growled and moved, parking myself totally in front to block her from view. “Don’t you dare put that shit on her. If you’d done your fucking job, none of this would be happening in the first place!”

  The apartment door opened, and I swung around, making sure she moved with me. Everyone lifted their guns.

  Something I didn’t have.

  I need to fix that.

  “Stand down,” Agent Frost said, striding into the room.

  My back teeth came together. Oh, goodie, backup was here.

  “Ms. Lane, are you harmed?”

  I felt her peek out from around me. “No.”

  “Good,” he replied, then gestured for the other officers. They all went to the side of the room to fill him in.

  I spun around to face Bellamy. “Did I hurt your shoulder when you fell? I wasn’t gentle.”

  “It was a lot gentler than a bullet.” She giggled.

  I frowned and took her hands. “Bells.”

  She looked up. “Sorry, I—” Tears flooded her eyes.

  I cursed and pulled her against me. Her hands fisted in the shirt against my back.

  “It’s okay. Everything is okay,” I murmured. They were stupid, untrue words. Everything was not okay.

  But it would be. I would make those words true.

  How the fuck was I going to make this okay?

  “Our guys found the room where the sniper was camping out. He’s gone, along with the gun he used. We’re having forensics go over everything, and we have officers out speaking to people in the building,”

  “But you won’t find shit.” I surmised.

  “We will follow up on every possible lead.” Frost assured me.

  This guy was as bland as a slice of white bread. Untoasted.

  “Have you found Spidey?” Bellamy questioned.

  I glanced at her, noting the tears from before had vanished, her chin was high, and she was staring straight at Frost and company.

  That was my girl. Strong. Strong enough to stay alive.

  “We believe the assassin with the spider tattoo on his neck—” He began.

  “Spidey,” Bells interjected.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, ah, Spidey.”

  I smirked. Dude did not want to call him that. Too bad for him.

  “That’s what his partner called him.” Bellamy tried to explain.

  “Right.” Frost agreed. I smiled. “We do believe he’s still alive. However, we have found no trace of his whereabouts.”

  “He said they have a sort of witness protection for assassins.” Bellamy reminded him.

  “Yes, we are looking into that, too. As well as trying to place him at the scene a few moments ago.”

  Bellamy shook her head definitively. “It wasn’t him.”

  Frost seemed surprised. “How do you know?”

  “I just know. That’s not his style. He’s too angry with me. This is personal now. He wouldn’t shoot me from that far away. He wants to be…” Her voice faltered. “Up close.”

  I swallowed. Just the sound of it made my skin crawl.

  Over my dead body.

  “Well, everything you’ve told us about him definitely lines up with that theory.”

  “Face it,” I told him. “She knows more about this guy than you.”

  Frost slanted his head. “Since you have seen him more than once, I am inclined to believe that.”

  So glad he was inclined to believe her.

  “That means Crone has more than one man after me.”

  “Affirmative.” Frost agreed.

  “How many?” I asked.

  “We don’t know. He has a few men who work for him who exclusively contract kill, one of them being Spidey. But there could be a few more rogue men in his organization that are hoping to score and get into his good graces.”

  “Score meaning murdering me,” Bellamy echoed.

  “Is there anything you do know?” I spat.

  “You aren’t safe here. I can have a few officers pack up your things, and I’ll ship them to an address you provide. I think it’s best that you leave from here. I’ll have my men escort you directly to the airport.”

  Bellamy glanced around and then back to Frost. “I don’t want anything here,” she announced. “Just get rid of it all. Donate it. Whatever. I don’t care.”

  “Bells,” I said, touching the small of her back.

  She shook her head. “They’re just things. None of it means anything to me. I’ll just buy whatever I need.”

  I nodded once. “Good enough for me.”

  “Can I at least stop at the bank on the way to the airport? I need to close out my accounts.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” Frost replied. “I assume you’re transferring the funds to a new account? If you give me the routing information, I’ll have it done for you. The funds will be available to you by the end of this week.”

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and her body leaned toward me just slightly. I angled, pushing closer so she could lean more firmly into me.

  “I was just going to get the cash and open an account when I got home.”

  Home.r />
  I liked the sound of that. I liked knowing that place was with me.

  “I wouldn’t advise carrying that much cash,” Frost stated.

  I reached into my pocket, pulling out the money clip. “Anyone got a piece of paper and a pen?”

  The uniformed officer produced both and held them out. I pulled out a paper card with all my bank information on it and scrawled out what he needed. When I was done, I handed it to Frost. “Have it all transferred to this account.”

  “To your account?” His haughty voice pissed me off.

  “It’s fine,” Bellamy injected instantly. Her hand clasped around mine. “That will work for me.”

  “You want me to transfer your money into his accounts?”

  “I trust him,” she replied simply. Shyly, she glanced up at me. “It’s okay, right?”

  The center of my chest burned with emotion. With love. “Yes. It’s good.” I cleared my throat, trying to make it sound less raspy. “I’ll add you to the accounts. You’ll have total access.”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes. “I don’t—”

  “I trust you.”

  “You two are either the dumbest people I’ve ever met, or you deserve some kind of Hallmark movie,” Frost commented. “That is if you live.”

  A couple of the other officers in the room chuckled.

  “That’s not funny,” Bellamy snapped.

  “I wasn’t making a joke,” Frost replied coolly. “I’d like to remind you that witness protection is the only way the FBI can make any kind of promise to your safety.”

  A harsh reply bubbled up, but Bellamy laid her hand on my chest and stepped forward. “You mean like that last promise you made me?”

  He blanched.

  “C’mon, Bells. Let’s go.” The longer we stayed here, the higher chance someone else decided to shoot up the place.

  “Drive them,” Frost told some men at the door. “You sure you don’t want anything in this place? There’s nothing here of value?”

  “You wouldn’t let me keep anything from my old life.” Bellamy sounded bitter. I couldn’t blame her.

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she gasped. Abruptly, she stopped, turned, and took off into the bedroom.

  Right back into the place where someone had just tried to kill her.

  Bellamy