Snowfall

by Suzanne Cass

  Fuck.

  He must’ve snuck around the outside of the house to come up behind them. They were trapped. Why hadn’t he listened to that foreboding feeling earlier?

  “Nice to meet you, young Mr. Wilson,” the man pointing a gun at Levi drawled in a southern accent. He was tall, with sandy hair and a mischievous smile. Not the sort of guy he would’ve chosen to be a strong-arm for a mob boss. “You’ve been leading us on quite a dance.”

  “Lower your weapon,” the guy in the kitchen growled at Wyatt.

  His little finger twitched, but otherwise Wyatt didn’t move. What the fuck was he gonna do now? Think, Wyatt, think.

  “I’d do as he suggests,” the Southerner said. “He’s not in the best of moods. You killed his friend. And I think he’s got revenge on his mind. That’s quite a feat, by the way. Killing Anton Babich. He had a big reputation. Never liked the man much myself, but I’m certain Dmytro will miss him. Now, he’s going to have to train a brand-new hitman.”

  Stella squeaked in fear behind him and a third outline appeared in the doorway to their left, leading off to another hallway and bedrooms. The man was a black shadow looming in the gloom, but Wyatt saw enough to know he was also pointing a gun at them.

  Three against one. Wyatt lowered his weapon. They outnumbered him. He reached around and pulled Stella farther behind him, shielding her with his body as best he could, using the wall to protect her, as well.

  Anton’s friend was dark and swarthy, stocky like a mountain goat. Wyatt knew from the rumors that Anton was from Chechnya. It was part of his scary reputation, then he’d lived through the war with Russia, suffered through terrible atrocities, the sight of which had turned him into a killing machine. This guy looked to be of the same origin.

  “Hand over the gun,” the man with the accent demanded. Wyatt laid it on the floor. The other fellow in the shadows came forward and picked it up, then went back to lean against the doorframe, tucking Wyatt’s pistol into his coat pocket. He was short, barely came to Wyatt’s shoulder, but had a wicked scar starting at his ear and running down his neck. Wyatt shuddered at the sight.

  How did they know Anton was dead? Unless… Levi must’ve told them. He’d poured out the whole sordid story to Levi over the sat phone this morning. How had they captured Levi? His brother had said they were being careful; they’d stayed at Stargazer Ranch. Had these men somehow infiltrated the ranch? Or had they got to Levi another way? Whatever. It didn’t really matter. They’d used Levi and Cat to get to him, and now he had to do something, or they were all going to die.

  “I may as well get to the point. You know what we’re here for. Hand them over.” The Southerner waved his gun abstractly in the air.

  Wyatt swallowed hard, letting his gaze slip between the Southerner and the Chechen.

  “I don’t have them. But if you let Stella and my brother go, I’ll lead you to the diamonds.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t have them?” The mischievous smile disappeared from the man’s face. His handsome features transformed, going hard, his eyes flint-like. Wyatt could suddenly see this guy might be dangerous, after all.

  “They’re still up on the mountain, with Tony.”

  “You’re lying,” the Chechen snarled.

  “No, I’m not. You can check our bags, you can even pat me down,” Wyatt replied quickly. He shivered at the idea of either of those two running their hands over him, or God forbid, Stella, but he needed them to believe him. They honestly didn’t have the diamonds on them.

  “Like my friend here says, I don’t believe you,” the Southerner cut in. “You see, Anton phoned in a sit rep, right after he killed Tony. Said that the jewels were nowhere to be found, and he was going after you two.”

  “Well, he must not have looked very hard, because Tony never let those diamonds out of his sight. I’m telling you, we don’t have them. Tony had them on him. Either that, or he hid them somewhere near the camp. Take a look, if you don’t believe me.” He began to slowly ease the backpack over his shoulder, motioning for Stella to do the same.

  This situation had all gone to shit. Not only was Stella involved, but now Levi and Cat had been put in mortal danger. Wyatt’s guts churned. Levi had said they harmed Cat. What had they done to her? He felt sick, his throat constricting with the urge to dry retch.

  He was going to get them out of this. They didn’t deserve to be part of this cruel plot. If he had to die trying, then he would.

  The sandy-haired man glared at Wyatt, assessing his words. “Check their bags,” he finally said to the scar-faced fellow. “And you,” he aimed the gun at Levi’s head. “Sit down. And don’t say a word. Remember who’s waiting for you back at the house.”

  Levi took the chair closest to him, easing down onto it slowly, as if waiting for it to break beneath his weight. But it held. Wyatt assumed the man must be referring to Cat. Were they holding her hostage? Some kind of sick insurance to make sure Levi didn’t escape. Wyatt ground his teeth together. If he ever got out of this, he would make these men pay.

  Wyatt glanced at the sandy-haired man, studying his body language, trying to decide if he had any chance at disarming the guy. He held the gun with a loose disinterest, sometimes pointing it at Levi, sometimes at Wyatt. He seemed overly blasé about the whole situation, but that was a façade. With that persuasive grin and illusion of ineptitude, he was hiding a true killer inside.

  Almost imperceptibly, Levi gave a shake of his head. His message was obvious; don’t try anything.

  Everyone watched in silence as scar-face tipped first Wyatt’s backpack, then Stella’s upside down, emptying the contents onto the dusty floor. He pawed through the mess, checking each of the small pockets, before he finally turned to the Southerner and shook his head, then went back to his position in the shadows.

  “What have you done with them, you little fuck?” The Southerner asked in a low voice. “I’m not playing around anymore.”

  “I’ve done nothing, I promise. You have to believe us. All we wanted was to get the hell out of there.” Wyatt crossed his fingers behind his back and prayed. If he could get these thugs to release Stella and Levi, that’d be a win. Then if he could make them follow him into the forest, maybe, just maybe, he might be able to gain the upper hand. Although, exactly how he was going to defeat two armed men, he had no idea.

  Stella spoke up for the first time. “He’s telling the truth… We’re telling the truth.” Her voice was high-pitched and wobbly as she poked her head around his bicep. She was obviously completely out of her depth, had encountered nothing like this before. And why would she have? No normal person had to deal with drug cartels and stolen diamonds. He tried to push her back behind him, but she resisted. Even while he admired her guts at speaking up, he wished she’d stayed quiet.

  “We wanted nothing to do with Tony or his gems. We still don’t. All we want is to be set free. We don’t want any part of what you’re doing here. You can have your stupid diamonds, we’ll tell you where they are, just let us go.”

  The Southerner’s eyes lit up as he studied Stella, and Wyatt pushed her more forcefully behind him, willing her to say no more, to go back to being invisible.

  “What do you want me to do, Samuel? Shall I search her?” The Chechen took a few steps toward them, his lips taking on a sinister sneer. Everything inside Wyatt tensed.

  “Your little woman here seems quite determined. She’s kinda cute, if you like the outdoorsy type. But I think I’m inclined to believe her, more than I believe you.”

  Wyatt searched his memory banks for any mention of the name Samuel regarding Dmytro and his men. But nothing came up. He’d never heard of him before. Which didn’t surprise him, as he’d not been a party to Dmytro’s innermost sanctum. This man was clearly intelligent, a dangerous foe.

  “Get them both to empty their pockets,” Samuel said thoughtfully.

  Wyatt had to force himself to unclench his fists. It wouldn’t do for the Chechen to see he’d rattled him; th
at he was prepared to fight for Stella’s honor. Stella was already doing as she been asked, turning her pockets inside out, tipping out balled-up tissues, a flashlight, and a couple of pieces of gum. Her hands were shaking, her lips pulled back in determined defiance.

  “Search him.” Samuel’s command surprised Wyatt. Damn. It didn’t take the other man long to undercover the blade hidden beneath his trouser leg. The Chechen held it up for Samuel to see.

  “I thought so.” The Southerner had turned the charm on again, that mischievous smile cracking open the dimples in his cheeks. “Naughty boy,” he scolded.

  Wyatt lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug, as if to say you found me out.

  Levi watched everything with dark and thoughtful eyes, still not saying a word. Wyatt wondered what was going on in his brother’s head. Was he being truly compliant? Or was he cooking up an escape plan behind that shuttered gaze? He speculated again what threat Samuel had used to keep Wyatt cooperating. It sounded like there was at least one more man holding Cat hostage back at the house. Perhaps all it would take was a phone call from Samuel and then Cat…

  “Are you going to let us go now?” Stella’s hopeful voice broke the silence.

  “No, you silly girl. Did you honestly think it was that simple?” Samuel smiled at her beguilingly. “So, here’s the plan. Your man here, Wyatt, will lead Fedire—Samuel nodded in the Chechen’s direction—and Mike to the diamonds. And I’ll stay here and keep you and the brother company until you come back.” His glittering gaze turned to Wyatt. “Fair warning. Don’t be too long, Mr. Wilson, I don’t like to be kept waiting. I get an itchy trigger finger when I’m impatient.”

  Stella’s frightened stare met his. This wasn’t what he’d been hoping for at all.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  STELLA SANK TO her knees on the dusty floor, her legs no longer able to hold her weight. She was exhausted, her bones felt like they were made of jelly. This man had no right to do this to her. To them. She couldn’t stay here another minute, she couldn’t. All her strength seeped out of her at that horrible man’s words. She wanted to curl into a tiny ball on the dirty floorboards and pretend none of this was happening.

  She’d stayed strong for so long. Stayed strong for Wyatt. But now… She had no spirit left.

  Even though the freezing wind was less inside, the house was nevertheless extremely cold. This room was still mostly intact, but half the roof was missing. There wasn’t even any glass in any of the windows, for God’s sake, and the snow had blown straight in, forming little drifts in the corners.

  “You can’t…” She stopped, unable to get the words out. Licking her dry lips, she tried again. “You can’t do this to us. We’re innocent. You have to let us go.”

  “Oh, she’s so precious, isn’t she?” The man called Samuel smiled at her. He actually smiled. As if he hadn’t a care in the world. “She’s very pretty, I’ll give you that. But she won’t get very far if she isn’t in touch with reality. I’m not sure she’s right for you, Wyatt.”

  What was he talking about? He knew nothing about her. Knew nothing about Wyatt, either. How dare he pass judgment on her like that? She wanted to snarl at him like a feral cat. If she’d had the strength, she would’ve ripped at his face with her fingernails, scratched his eyeballs out. But at least the patronizing shit had achieved one thing. The anger now zinging through her veins had replaced the terror and lethargy.

  “She has nothing to do with any of this. If you let her go, I promise—”

  “You’re not in any position to make promises,” Samuel snapped.

  Wyatt leaned over her protectively. She reached out and grabbed his hand, getting slowly to her feet.

  “You do what you have to do,” she said to Wyatt. She hoped he was going to kill the dark-haired man with the pockmarked face still pointing his gun at them, the same as he’d killed the other one up on the mountain. It was a terrible thought. A horrible idea, to take another man’s life. Her compassion was at zero, however, and she no longer cared.

  “I’ll be okay. Levi and I will wait right here for you.” She made it sound like they were going to sit around and chat with a cup of warm cocoa in their hands. As if everything was going to be fine. Wyatt needed to be on top of his game. If he thought she was accepting of all this, then who knew, he might come back to them alive. A need to touch Wyatt, to feel some of that immense strength one last time, overwhelmed her. He needed to know she trusted him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips. Cupped his face in her palm.

  She half-expected him to push her away, but his mouth softened and claimed hers.

  “Oi, that’s enough,” Samuel shouted.

  She wanted to ignore the prick, but Wyatt tensed. Letting hips lips slide away, Stella looked up into those wonderful, dark eyes. She could get lost in them. Drown in their depths for days on end. For a split second, it was as if only the two of them existed. She wasn’t sure how she would cope if Wyatt didn’t come back. A piece of her heart would be forever missing.

  This thought had her pursing her lips. It wasn’t just a piece of her heart; she wasn’t surprised to discover that Wyatt owned her whole heart. She’d been slowly but inexorably captivated by him over the past few weeks. Last night in the tent had merely cemented the fact they were so right for each other. It proved their unbridled passion was a match for their soul’s desire.

  “I’ll see you again, soon,” she whispered.

  “You can count on it.”

  Then Fedire was poking a gun in Wyatt’s ribs, pushing him back to the kitchen. Wyatt eyed the man astutely, but said nothing. Even Stella could see Fedire wasn’t dressed properly for a hike up the mountain. His large, black overcoat, that made him look like exactly what he was—one of those mafia-type men you read about in spy novels—might be warm because it was made of wool, but the coat draped past his knees; it’d definitely drag him down when he hit deeper snow. His shoes were shiny lace-ups. Completely wrong for the terrain he was about to encounter. But all these things gave Wyatt an advantage. And while it hardly trumped the gun the man had pointed at Wyatt’s back, he needed any benefit he could get.

  The second man, the one with the disfiguring scar on his neck, strolled over to join them. He was no better dressed, but he had an air of menace about him that sent Stella’s blood running cold.

  “It’s a three-hour hike back up to the body,” Wyatt said smoothly. “We won’t be back before dark.”

  That was a lie. It’d taken them well over three hours to get down this morning. Admittedly, after killing Anton, they’d slowed their rate of descent, no longer dreading an attack from behind. It’d take them longer to climb up. Did Wyatt feel half as exhausted by their stumbling race down the mountain as she did? How was he going to cope with trekking all the way back up there again? She hoped he still had something left in his reserves, somewhere.

  The diamonds were not with Tony, but Wyatt was spinning that line to make the other men believe him. She and Wyatt had buried the stones to keep them safe. It was a compromise. Stella wanted to throw them away, Wyatt wanted to keep them. Was Wyatt going to hand the diamonds over to these men? And if he did, what would happen to him?

  What would happen to her and Levi?

  “It’s okay, I’ve got nowhere else to be right now. And neither do these two. Just make sure you’re back before eight o’clock tonight. Otherwise… Well, you know what I mean.” Samuel smirked at Wyatt.

  “You think this is a good idea, boss?” Fedire glanced swiftly at Levi and then Stella. “Surely, it’ll only take one of us to escort him.” He jabbed his chin in Wyatt’s direction. “And one of us should stay here with you.”

  “You keep a sharp eye on this one, you shouldn’t underestimate him,” Samuel told Fedire, narrowing his eyes at Wyatt. “I can handle these two, don’t worry about that.”

  Fedire didn’t seem to agree with his boss’s mandate, and was perhaps going to argue again, when Samuel cut him off. “Mike, make sure you move that tr
uck. Hide it good, now, won’t you?” He threw a set of keys at the scarred man. She had thought it a little strange that Levi would leave his car out in the open like that. They were supposed to be meeting in secret.

  The trio disappeared through the door.

  It was going to be a long afternoon of waiting and wondering.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy, just the three of us.” Samuel’s breezy drawl was beginning to grate on Stella, making her dislike him intensely. “I tell you what, sugar, make yourself useful and tie up your friend here.” He pointed his weapon in her direction as an extra incentive when she hesitated.

  Stella threaded her way around the mess of their upturned packs scattered all over the floor and reluctantly took a roll of duct tape from Samuel’s fingers.

  “Sorry,” she said as she approached Levi.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Not your fault.”

  No, it wasn’t, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.

  “Make sure you do him up nice and tight, now,” Samuel’s sing-song voice came from behind. “I’ll be checking your work when you’ve finished, and if I find he’s loose, well, I’ll have to find another way to keep him restrained.” Stella didn’t appreciate the underlying hint of menace in the blonde man’s tone. He was a bastard.

  “Is Cat okay?” she asked, stepping around the chair and beginning the task of taping Levi’s hands together behind his back. How dare they harm her friend?

  Levi’s features darkened, and she felt his forearms tense beneath the tape as she wrapped it around his wrists. “I fucking hope so.” He glanced up at the man with the gun. “They better not hurt her anymore. Or I’ll…” Levi sputtered, lost for words.

  Samuel stood over them, watching Stella to make sure she secured Levi tightly, but he didn’t interrupt their conversation. It was almost as if he were listening in with voyeuristic glee.

  “Where is she?” Stella asked, wondering how these thugs had managed to abduct Cat if she’d been staying at Stargazer.