Blizzard (BearPaw Resort #2)

by Cambria Hebert

  I don’t know what stung worse—the fact that she thought about leaving or the fact that she was still scared enough to pack for it.

  “You said you weren’t going to run.” I held on to what very little patience I had.

  She tugged the towel up a little farther on her body, grasping it tightly against her chest. “I’m not.”

  “But you packed this bag, the same bag you used to run last time.”

  I was being a gigantic dick right now, but fuck, it was too much. First she wanted to learn to use a gun, and now I realized she had an escape plan in our fucking hall closet that didn’t include me!

  “They threatened you!” she burst out, her own anger rising up.

  “So?”

  Her eyes widened, and a stubborn glint came into them. “So if I wasn’t around, then they wouldn’t care about you.”

  I laughed. It was not a nice sound. “They’re coming for me no matter where you are.”

  Her face paled, and I felt the first prick of guilt.

  “If anything happens to you…” The amount of pain in her voice was something I recognized well.

  “You leaving here would kill me, Bells. I’d be the living dead. Is that what you want?”

  Her face fell, and she buried it in both of her hands.

  I’d gone too far, and it was too late to take it back. Rushing down the hall, I grabbed her, pulling her into my body. She stiffened, and I felt the move like a knife, but I didn’t let go. I deserved that. That and more.

  A floodgate opened up inside her, and she began to sob into her hands, pressing against my chest. I cradled her head, rocking her back and forth a little while I held her tight.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I murmured. They were stupid words, seeming far less meaningful than the barbs I’d tossed out earlier.

  Why was that? Why were harsh words so much sharper than those of apology and regret?

  “Shh,” I whispered. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that shit. I was already on edge from last night and the damn gun range. I opened the closet and saw that bag… It was like a damn arrow to my chest.”

  Her face was damp when she looked up. “The last thing I want to do is leave. I put that bag there weeks ago… out of habit.”

  “Out of survival mode.” I finished, gently wiping the tears off her face.

  She nodded. “It’s why I wanted to learn to shoot. If I’m going to stay, I have to be able to fight.” She leaned her forehead on my shoulder, whispering to herself. “Being able to fight is so important, now more than ever.”

  I paused, tilting my head. “Why now more than ever?”

  She shook her head softly, almost as if she were trying to clear it. “I just feel this kind of urgency, you know? Like everything is spiraling.”

  I pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, and she sniffled. My heart turned over. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I hated that bag and everything it represented, but I shouldn’t have yelled.

  Saying I’m sorry just wasn’t good enough.

  I wrapped my hand around one of hers, tugging gently so she would follow along into the bedroom. The shower was running in the bathroom, a total waste of water, but some things were just more important.

  She was clutching the towel to her breast when I swiped another tear off her cheek and went into the closet. When I came back out, she frowned, lines pulling close on her forehead.

  “What are you doing?”

  I dropped the duffle on the bed and unzipped it. “Packing. If you have an escape plan, then I’m going to have one, too.”

  “Liam—”

  I stopped in the midst of pulling a few random shirts out of a drawer. “It’ll sit right next to yours in the closet, and if there ever comes a time when you have to run, we’ll run together.”

  I shoved some stuff in the bag, very aware of her watching me, and grabbed a few more things. Without a word, she turned and left the room. Before I could go after her, she reappeared, toting along her duffle. It landed with a thud on the bed beside my half-empty one.

  “I’m unpacking,” she announced and literally dumped everything out of the bag and tossed it on the floor. Then she kicked it beneath the bed.

  I took her shoulders, staring into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, sweetheart. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I should have thought about it from your point of view. You were only doing what came natural.”

  “You’ve been a grouchy grouch all day.” She sniffed and looked away.

  “Well, you pack emergency getaway bags, and I act like a grouchy grouch. We all have our ways of dealing with stress.”

  A giggle escaped her lips.

  I tried not to smile because I shouldn’t smile while I was trying to grovel. It was damn hard, though, because she was standing in front of me practically naked, giggling.

  “You can put that bag back in the closet, and I’ll put mine beside it. I won’t mention it again.”

  “You would run away with me?”

  “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

  She whispered, “Same.”

  Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, I pulled the edge of the towel so she would tumble into my chest. “Think there’s any hot water left in there?”

  Her eyes softened with the deep timbre of my voice. “Does it matter?”

  I half smiled, pulled the towel off her completely, and lifted her in my arms. Her eyes widened when she settled against the raging hard-on beneath my jeans.

  Bells reached between us and undid my pants as I carried her into the bathroom. Just outside the door, I paused long enough to shove them down and step out.

  Inside the shower was steamy and humid. Water splashed against my back and splattered my hair. Bellamy made a sound and grabbed my shoulder. “You’re still wearing a shirt!”

  “I want you.”

  Her eyelids drooped as I pushed her back against the wet tile wall.

  My lips latched onto her neck, sucking all the way down to the collarbone where I latched on again and sucked deeper. Bellamy moaned and pushed her fingers through my hair. The wet strands curled around her hands.

  I retreated just enough so her body could slide down the slick wall so just the tip of my dick penetrated her entrance. Pulling my hair, she yanked my head up for a kiss.

  My tongue entered her mouth at the same time my dick slid deep. I slapped my hand against the cold tile wall, bracing myself, and began to thrust inside her.

  “I love you,” I grunted between thrusts.

  She pulled my hair again, forcing me to look into her eyes. “I won’t leave you, Liam. I won’t.”

  The worst of the storm inside me abated, and I lost myself right there in her arms. I thrust deep again and again. Her body was so slick and warm, so perfectly matched with mine. Too soon, I was breathing heavy and the steady sound of water falling around us was joined by my shouts of release.

  Her fingertips dragged up and down my back, playing against my skin and in the water until I came down from the high I always got with her. Once I was coherent, I pulled back, kissing her gently on the lips.

  Then I smiled a devilish smile and lifted her off the wall. Her baby blues widened with surprise when I laid her across the bottom of the shower floor and dropped to my knees between her legs.

  She lifted her head, gazing at me with a question in her eyes.

  I smiled wolfishly, already anticipating her coming across my tongue. Without a word, I lifted her legs and draped them over my shoulders. One stroke of my finger made her shudder and lie back, boneless.

  The water cascaded over her body, making her look like some kind of goddess in the rain. Her erect nipples beckoned for attention, so I pinched and played with them before settling back down at her center.

  The water stayed hot the entire time I lapped up her juices, or maybe that was just us generating heat of our own.

  Regardless, when I was done and holding her close beneath the spray and pure
bliss cocooned us, I knew I had to do whatever I could to not let anything get in the way of this. Of us.

  It was time I stepped it up.

  Bellamy

  I knew something was up when Alex sauntered into the kitchen.

  People turned to stare at him, abandoning their tasks as he walked through the lines and past stations of people chopping and sautéing as if he didn’t notice the attention he was drawing at all.

  Maybe he was used to it. Or maybe he hadn’t expected it. It had only been a few weeks since he was promoted from ski guide to basically everyone’s boss. That little change in the business hierarchy set multiple tongues a wagging. I’d heard very low murmurs of staff members wondering if Alex was qualified for the job he was promoted to or if it was perhaps only because of Liam.

  Alex and I were sort of kindred in that, I supposed. Everyone around here was either intimidated or thought me undeserving of working at The Inn. I knew all too well what it was like to walk into a room and have people stop talking or whisper conspiratorially behind my back. I also knew the jealousy some of the, shall we say, less-confident employees clung to.

  “Yo, girl who got away!” he called out before even reaching the station I was working at.

  I cringed because the curiosity in the air reached a new level. “I have a name, you know,” I told him, prim.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Bellamy.”

  “More like Belladonna,” one of the women working nearby said under her breath. The girl working beside her stifled a laugh.

  I sighed.

  Alex frowned, then turned his attention to the ladies who I definitely hadn’t won over in the last few weeks. It didn’t matter how many nights I stayed late or how many tasks I helped out with that weren’t even my job. The fact was you couldn’t make everyone like you, and in my case, you definitely couldn’t make jealous, catty women be nice.

  When I just ignored them, Alex made a sound and started toward them. My hand shot out and grabbed his arm. “No,” I said, quiet.

  He glanced back at me with a defiant look on his features.

  “Please,” I said, weary.

  The last thing I had energy for was a bunch of kitchen bitches. Next to Spidey, they looked like an episode of Barney.

  It wasn’t even worth my time. Or Alex’s.

  He relented, reaching across and grabbing up some crudité I was cutting up for a large platter. The crisp carrot made a sharp crunching sound when he bit into it, chased by sounds of his indelicate chomping.

  Did no one teach him or Liam any manners?

  “How bad is it?” I said, leaning a hip against the counter.

  “How bad is what?” He shoved the rest of the carrot into his mouth, then reached for a few cherry tomatoes.

  “The reason you’re here.”

  He tossed a tomato into the air and caught it with his mouth.

  A few ladies walking by giggled, and he spun, offering up a wide grin. “How are you ladies today?”

  “We’re fine, Mr.—”

  “Alex.” He cut them off.

  They actually blushed, and when they saw me watching them, they scurried away.

  “Wow, you are super good with people,” Alex quipped, turning back to me.

  I levelled him with a stare. “You’re really going to make me stand here and worry, especially considering the last time you picked me up instead of Liam”—I stopped and glanced around, leaning in to speak low—“there was an incident?”

  “Everything is all good. Liam just had somewhere he had to be.” He spread his arms wide. “So here I am.”

  I pursed my lips. “What aren’t you saying?”

  “I’m offended.” He admonished, reaching for more crudité. I slapped his hand away. He pulled back and cradled the slapped hand against his chest. “Savage.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Liam didn’t call to tell me you were coming instead.”

  Alex shrugged, averting his gaze. “It was a last-minute thing.”

  Liam always called. Always. Even when he didn’t have to. The fact that he didn’t sent alarms ringing in my head.

  “You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

  Alex caught my shoulders, leaning down to stare steadily into my eyes. “Liam is fine.”

  “Then where is he?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You about finished here?” He gestured to the veggies. “We can talk on the way to your place.”

  “This isn’t even my job,” I muttered. “I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter how helpful I am in here. People won’t like me anyway.”

  Alex’s voice deepened but grew louder as his body stiffened. “People are giving you a hard time?”

  I felt a few stares like daggers in the back of my head. Tattling to the boss definitely wouldn’t help either.

  “No.” I lied. Signaling to the girl I was helping out, I let her know I was done and had to go.

  After a brief check-in with Chef D’alessio, I grabbed my stuff and walked out of The Inn toward Alex’s Hummer, which was parked right at the entrance like a giant roadblock.

  We didn’t even have our seatbelts on when I turned to Alex. “Talk.”

  Liam

  I wasn’t scared of what I was about to do.

  Apprehensive? Yeah. Walking into any potentially dangerous situation was enough to make any sane man a little nervous, but it wasn’t anything with the power to stop me.

  Nothing was going to stop me from doing this.

  In my eyes, this was something that had to be done. I didn’t know if it would help, but at this point, it sure as hell couldn’t make the situation any worse.

  That’s the thing… When the situation a man was in was life and death, he’d already hit the bottom of the problem barrel.

  Bottom of the problem barrel = losing my pro-athlete career, watching my father battle terminal cancer, and waiting for the people trying to kill my girl to succeed.

  I was spiraling out of control. Everything and everyone around me was volatile. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—just sit back and wait for literally everything to slip through my fingers. I was taking some of the control back. I would use everything in me to fight what I could.

  As a pro snowboarder, I learned early and quickly that the only way to thrive in the frigid world of snow was adaptability. Being able to adapt to any kind of condition was key to being successful.

  So adapt is what I would do.

  Pulling the rental into a spot in the large, barren asphalt parking lot, I shut down the engine and leaned back against the seat.

  Ahead, there was a huge concrete building with barbed wire, chain-link fences, and watch towers surrounding everything. The massive floodlights took up a lot of airspace. Everything was sparse and downright depressing.

  My phone began vibrating against the cupholder to my right. Without taking my eyes off the building, I picked it up to glance at the screen.

  I knew this call was coming. I’d been expecting it. I’d just seen Bells this morning, but I already missed her. And I felt guilty as hell for lying to her.

  But I had to do this.

  I just hoped after I explained, she would understand.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” I said into the line.

  The call wasn’t an easy one, and I kept it short. I knew if I didn’t, she would wear me down, and telling her what I was doing wasn’t something I wanted to do over the phone. Besides, I’d rather tell her after the fact, when I was home in front of her, rather than have her stress and worry the entire time I was gone.

  Hearing her voice and feeling her anxiety was a reminder I didn’t need that I had people at home waiting for me. People I wanted to give my time to, but instead, I had to be here.

  Swiftly, anger and resentment rose in me. It mingled with the darkness I’d spent a lot of effort battling back. Closing my eyes, I stopped fighting.

  Embracing it wasn’t nearly as hard as fighting against it. In fact, I quite enjoyed the rush of power that filled my limbs, br
inging with it a newfound confidence I knew would be visible when you looked in my eyes.

  I might not be as dangerous as the men locked up inside the maximum-security prison I was parked in front of, but I wasn’t powerless.

  Despite the storm raging inside me, there was also a stillness. An absolute calm that, frankly, I found more unnerving that the anger. I grabbed on to it, though, gripping it like a fine-edged sword.

  After retrieving the paperwork I’d already filled out, I made my way across the parking lot to the entrance of the New York State Correctional Facility Getting inside a place like this wasn’t a fast, simple process.

  The fact I already had clearance and was on the list made it a little easier, but it still took a while to get through security, get a visitor badge, etc. The longer it took, the more time I spent standing inside this cage, the angrier I became and the more deadly calm I grew.

  Eventually, I was led into a room with the same windowless concrete walls the rest of the place had. The room was divided in two sections with a large concrete half wall separating one side from the other. A clear partition I knew was highly durable met the half wall and continued up to the ceiling.

  The wall itself was separated into four sections, creating four “private” areas for people to visit. Someone was already seated closest to the door, waiting for whoever they were visiting to come out.

  A uniformed officer pointed for me to go to the far end. The metal legs of the chair scraped against the polished concrete floor when I pulled it out and lowered into it. The lighting in here was harsh, the overhead fixtures hummed slightly, and even though the walls were concrete, the sounds of buzzing doors and people moving around in rooms nearby filtered in.

  Leaning my arms on the counter in front of me, I waited, staring at the empty seat on the other side of the glass. A few moments later, a door opened at the edge of the room and an officer stepped in, held the door open, and gestured for someone to come through.

  I kept my eyes trained on the empty metal chair in front of me. I wasn’t about to give this man the satisfaction of flying my stare to his face as though I were desperate or even scared.

  No.