On Ice (Contemporary Romantic Thriller)

by J. D. Faver

  “The other?” she asked.

  “You know, your discussion with, uh,” he paused, gesturing surreptitiously to the back seat.

  She smiled. “Yes, I know. I’ve been thinking about it.”

  “Not chickening out, are you?” He reached across to softly stroke her cheek. “If you like, I’ll stay.”

  “No. I’ll let them know about--about our plans. They’ll be okay.” She hoped this would prove to be true.

  “I’ll help you get your things inside.” Brett reached for the door, but Rene stayed him with a hand on his arm.

  “I don’t have much. Just let us go in and get set up for the class. Come back later and we--we’ll be ready.”

  “I’ll be back at five and I’ll have dinner waiting at my--our house,” he amended hurriedly.

  “See you later, then.” Leaning over, she kissed him lightly on the lips. Glancing back to gauge their reaction, she found Sara dozing while Seth inspected Tasha’s ear.

  “Let’s go, children.”

  Sara roused herself and shed her seat belt, while Seth had more difficulty extricating himself with the dog.

  They crunched the few steps to the porch, stamping snow from their boots. Rene unlocked the cabin and turned to wave to Brett as the children rushed inside. Brett circled the clearing and headed out with a wave. She was glad she wore so many layers that morning. The insulated jump suit was a chore to put on, but with thermal underwear and two sweaters underneath, she could survive a blizzard.

  Rene smiled as she stepped into the warmth of the interior, quickly closing the door. Unzipping the front of her jumpsuit, she turned to the children with a smile. The smile froze on her lips.

  Mark’s grin was malevolent. He grasped Seth’s collar and Sara’s arm.

  “Ow, Daddy!” Sara cried out. “You’re hurting me!”

  “Mark!” Rene’s voice sounded thin and frightened.

  “Yes, Rene, remember me? Your husband? Weren’t you expecting me?” He laughed delightedly at her confusion.

  She took a strangled breath. “Mark, let the children go. This is between you and me.”

  “You mean, between me and my wife and her boyfriend.” As he ground out the last word, he shook the children in his grip. Seth’s collar gave way as Mark lifted him up, sending the boy sprawling to the floor.

  The puppy barked furiously, jumping around in the melee of Mark, Seth and Sara.

  Sara shrieked in pain as Mark squeezed her arm.

  Seth gathered himself up and lunged at Mark, shouting, “Stop! You’re hurting her.” His sudden attack caused Mark to drop Sara. A look of surprise registered on his face, then changed to a sneer. He backhanded Seth, sending him careening off the kitchen table. A glass pitcher filled with silk flowers rolled to the edge and shattered as it hit the floor. Tasha growled at Mark, making a leap to nip at his pants leg.

  The children ran to cling to Rene who sheltered them in her arms. The puppy abandoned her quarry to chase after the children.

  “Oh, isn’t this touching? The protective mother and her precious little brats.” He walked slowly toward them, narrowing his eyes into slits as he approached. He ducked his head, barely missing the thermometer hanging from the heavy iron hook.

  She felt the children shrink against her and planted her feet, trying to erase the fear etched on her face.

  “What have you done to your hair?” Mark’s voice rose to a roar. “I can’t believe you cut it. Didn’t you learn after the last time?”

  “It’s my hair,” she said quietly. Raising her chin, she met his gaze levelly as he stood in front of her.

  “Don’t ever speak to me in that tone of voice!” he yelled. His open palm met her cheekbone. The stinging impact brought tears to her eyes. She rocked back on her heels, loosening her hold on Seth.

  Mark’s arm was drawn back to deliver a backhand, but Seth launched himself at the arm and held on with a death grip. An expression of rage transformed Mark’s face into a snarling, animal mask. He tried to shake the boy off, but Seth’s grip held.

  Tasha bounced around Mark’s feet nipping at his pants leg and barking furiously. Mark kicked the puppy, sending her sliding across the floor. She skidded to the edge of the hearth and skittered her toenails across the floor as she struggled to regain her footing.

  “Tasha!” Seth cried. His hold loosened and Mark shook him off. Seth landed on his side, rolling toward the yapping puppy.

  Mark whirled toward them, grabbing the puppy from Seth’s arms and hurling it toward the flaming hearth. Tasha shrieked as she landed on the edge of the logs. Flames lapped at her fur, setting her back and flank ablaze. Seth and Sara screamed in unison, their gazes locked on Tasha. Mark’s laughter was cut short when Rene grabbed the snow shovel and swung it in a wide arc, connecting with his head. The impact carried him in an arc, landing with a loud thud.

  Seth snatched the puppy from the flames. He rolled her in the small rag rug in front of the fireplace and smothered the flames, burning his hands in the process. Sara ran to his side as they tearfully examined the puppy.

  Rene stood over Mark’s fallen body, brandishing the shovel. The gash in his head made a bright red pool on the floor. It looked like a halo of blood. “For the devil himself,” she said out loud. She nudged his shoulder with the shovel, but there was no response.

  Rene edged around Mark, making her way to the sobbing children. Afraid to let go of the shovel, she clutched it in one hand as she examined Tasha.

  “I don’t think it’s too bad,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Her fur is so thick, I don’t think the flames reached her skin but she’s limping. Let’s call Brett. He’ll know what to do.”

  They put the whimpering puppy, wrapped in the rug, on her bed. Rene’s trembling fingers tried to punch Brett’s number into the telephone keypad. There was no dial tone. Rene followed the cord to where it was neatly severed.

  “Oh, no,” she moaned. “Now what will we do?”

  Seth rocked back and forth on the bed, cradling his burned hands against his chest. “The computer, Mom. Check the computer,” he sobbed.

  “I hope he didn’t cut both lines.” Making a wide circle around Mark, she pushed buttons, bringing the computer to life. The lights blinked on as Rene gasped in relief. “Oh, thank God!” The program set itself up and Rene selected the e-mail address for Brett, the doctor and vet.

  “Please help us!” she said aloud as she typed. “We need a doctor and a vet, and the sheriff.” She paused, then typed out, “and I need you, Brett. He’s here. Hurry!”

  Before she could click on the ‘send’ icon, steely fingers wrapped around her throat, dragging her backwards onto the floor. The impact sent a shaft of pain to the still-tender area around her ribs. As she struggled to loosen his grip, Mark straddled her, banging her head against the wood. His vise-like fingers dug into her throat as she gasped for air.

  Sara and Seth ran to her aid, Sara banging her fists ineffectually against Mark’s shoulder. Seth ran to the computer and used both burned hands to guide the mouse to the ‘send’ icon.

  “No!” Mark shouted. He slung Sara to the floor. As he shoved Seth away from the computer, he grabbed for the mouse but not before Seth clicked it. The screen blinked and a chime announced that the message had been sent.

  “No!” Mark screamed again, the agonized howl reverberating from the rafters. The chair fell as he spun around, throwing Rene’s lessons and books to the floor. His gaze fell on Seth, cowering beneath him. “You!” he shouted, grabbing Seth roughly by the shoulders and raising him up off the floor.

  “M-Mom!” Seth called to her.

  Painfully, Rene dragged herself to her knees. Her breath came shallow and ragged from her bruised throat. Looking around, she spied the shovel beside the bed and crawled toward it.

  Mark struck Seth across the face.

  The sound of flesh impacting flesh resonated in Rene’s ears. Reaching for the shovel, her shaking fingers sent it clattering to the floor
.

  As she groped for the handle, Mark glared his contempt, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the noise. He let Seth slide limply to the floor.

  A flame of anger licked against Rene’s heart. She gritted her teeth as she took a firm hold on the shovel, emitting a low growl from deep in her throat. Dragging herself up, she used the edge of the bed and the shovel as crutches. Steadying herself for the next attack, she let a storm of rage overtake her, replacing all fear.

  “Please, God—-Please God,” she intoned breathlessly.

  As Mark started toward her, she steadied her legs against the bed, raising the shovel like a baseball bat. Her heart thundered inside her chest, shaking her entire body as she stood tensed and ready for the onslaught of Mark’s fury.

  Snapping his fingers twice, he broke her concentration. She flinched as laughter spewed out of him, his eyes glittering with pleasure.

  Rene tried to ignore the finger snapping, a gesture she recalled all too well as an accompaniment for pain. The raised shovel weighed heavily in her weakened arms.

  He advanced slowly, snapping his fingers in time to some rhythm in his head. Their eyes locked in a deadly struggle as he came, step by step across the room. His game was cut short when he hit his head on the dangling thermometer. He jumped out of the way before recognizing it for what it was. He jerked the thermometer down, leaving the heavy iron hook swinging like a pendulum overhead. Dashing the thermometer to the floor, he ground his heel into the glass shards.

  He whirled around, turning his full attention to Rene.

  She stifled a cry as the iron hook fell from the rafter striking Mark’s head. He sprawled face-first to the floor.

  Rene reeled weakly, letting the shovel fall as she collapsed on the edge of the bed. Breathing heavily, she waited to see if Mark would rouse himself and continue his attack. Her son lay where Mark had tossed him and her daughter wept by the hearth.

  “Seth? Seth, are you okay?” There was no response. A shiver of fear crept down her spine. Rene pulled herself up, allowing the shovel to bear her weight. She took a few tenuous steps toward her son, trying to steady her shaky legs. Afraid to leave her weapon, she dragged the shovel, scraping the wood floor behind her.

  Seth lay unmoving, his head thrown back at an odd angle. His skin looked pale, almost translucent as Rene slowly, painfully drew near.

  “Seth, can you hear me?” She knelt beside him, touching his face. He was warm, a thin film of perspiration across his brow. Rene set her improvised weapon aside and tried to gather Seth into her arms. He was breathing. Tears filled her eyes as relief flooded over her. “Thank God!”

  “Mommy, is Seth dead?” Sara called.

  “No, honey.” She struggled to her feet and attempted to lift him, but couldn’t bear his weight. Placing him gently back on the floor, she turned toward Sara. “We have to get help. Get your jacket back on and run down the path to Ben’s. He’ll help us.”

  Sara brought her insulated jacket and Rene helped her with the zipper. Pulling the hood into place, she found her gloves in the pockets.

  “Now, be careful, Sara. Just go straight to Ben’s by the path in back. If he’s not home, come right back here.” Rene helped her out the back door and watched the bright red hood jog along the path until it disappeared in the darkness under the trees. She blessed Ben for keeping the path clear enough for foot travel between their cabins.

  Rene closed the door and leaned back against it.

  Seth hadn’t stirred and Rene hoped the e-mail message would be received by someone. Someone who would arrive quickly. Rene tried once more to rouse Seth, then threw a blanket over him and placed a pillow under his head.

  She heard a groan from Mark and rose quickly, grabbing the shovel. Standing over him, a fury raged through her.

  “Why aren’t you dead, you animal?” she screamed. Rene lifted the shovel and smashed it down on him again and again.

  ~*~

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Fury raged through Rene. Anger pulsed in her veins. No longer weak, she gripped the shovel with both hands. The bear spirit coursed through her being.

  She wanted him dead, this man who hurt her child.

  As she’d pounded his head and shoulders, she had sincerely wanted him dead. Now, holding the shovel at the ready, she wondered if he really was. He didn’t move but she expected him to rise up like an evil phoenix to disarm her. Brandishing the shovel, she watched him through narrowed eyes.

  Disgusted, she scooped the shovel under him, flipping him over. He rolled like a rag doll, falling limply on his back. She glanced at Seth, so still, and stifled the urge to bash Mark again.

  Drawing a sharp breath, she noticed how much Seth looked like his father. Both lay still, maybe lifeless. No! She refused to consider the possibility that Seth could die.

  “Please God. Please God,” she continued her chant.

  Sara and Ben approached the cabin noisily. They yelled back and forth, stomping heavily up the steps.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” Sara cried out as they stamped the snow from their boots.

  Rene opened the door as Ben reached for the knob.

  “Miz Reeny, what’s the matter?” He stared, open-mouthed, at the man sprawled on the floor. “Miz Sara said somebody was hurtin’ you.”

  Rene nodded, unable to speak. She pointed to Seth. Ben dropped to his knees. He pulled off his insulated gloves and felt for a pulse.

  “He’s alive,” he announced. “I don’t think we should move him. Did you call the doc?”

  “I--I don’t know,” Rene said. “He cut the phone line. I sent an e-mail to Brett and the doc.”

  “And Dr. Chad,” Sara announced, running to examine Tasha, who wagged her little curl of a tail and licked at Sara’s face.

  “The vet?” Ben asked. “I think this,” he gestured toward Seth and then Mark, “is gonna’ need a doctor.”

  “That,” Rene said, “is my husband. He hit Seth and threw the puppy into the fireplace.

  “Oh, my,” Ben said. “We better get a hold of the sheriff and Doc Lorelei.” He sat at the computer and tapped out a quick message.

  Rene felt weak as the adrenaline ebbed. She was shaky, but resisted the urge to weep.

  “You okay, Miz Reeny?” Ben asked. He looked her over critically. “You look kinda peaked.”

  “Me? I’m fine,” she answered. Kneeling beside Seth, she held his limp hand in her own.

  “I hope the doc gets here soon.” Ben crossed the room to look out the small window over the bed, laying a comforting hand on Sara’s shoulder as she cradled the puppy in her lap.

  Seth’s eyes fluttered open. “Mom?” he whispered.

  “I’m right here, Seth. Everything’s alright.” Rene brushed his hair back from his clammy forehead. A glimmer of a smile traced his lips as he closed his eyes again. His breathing was stronger and his grip was firm.

  Relief washed over her as she squeezed back the tears. Silently, she prayed for Lorelei’s speedy arrival.

  “Miz Reeny,” Ben said.

  She looked up to find Mark staring at her groggily. He rolled onto his side and surveyed the scene as though trying to put the pieces together. He struggled to rise and fell back to his knees.

  “Ben, he’s very dangerous,” she warned. “Please get something to tie him up.”

  Mark crouched in the middle of the cabin, holding his head and groaning.

  “Miz Reeny, he looks weak as a little kitten.” Ben approached him without fear. “He couldn’t hurt a fly.” He stood a few feet from Mark, looking down at him with an expression of pity.

  “No, Ben,” Rene said. “Please. He--”

  Mark sprang from his crouched position, striking Ben under the chin with all his force.

  Rene cried out as Ben crashed into the solid wood end table, crafted by his own hand. The table collapsed, sending a small lamp shattering to the floor.

  Sara screamed, her voice shrill and hollow as it reverberated off the high beams in the
rafters.

  Rene shielded Seth with her body, determined to protect him from further injury.

  Mark jumped on Ben as he struggled to rise from the remains of the table, striking him in the face. Ben looked almost puzzled, then angry as he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He fixed his good eye on Mark and drew his brows together into a frown. Ben launched himself at Mark, swinging his fists as he advanced. His third swing made contact with Mark’s chin.

  Mark looked surprised. He wasn’t used to being hit.

  Ben drove home his advantage with a punch directly to Mark’s mouth, drawing blood in return. His next blow caught Mark by his right eye. As Ben landed blow after blow, Mark retreated, backing toward the kitchen area. Ben threw him against the counter causing utensils and glassware to clatter. Mark doubled over as Ben punched him again and again in the stomach.

  Mark groped behind him and opened a drawer, strewing utensils to the floor. He stumbled, clutching at the next drawer. The contents spilled on top of him as he fell amid the silverware. Knives landed heavily by his legs. He glanced at the large chef’s knife, then up at Ben.

  Ben’s gaze fell on the shiny steel blade as Mark grabbed the handle. Ben leaned down, trying to retrieve it, but Mark plunged the knife into Ben’s shoulder. Ben yelled in pain as blood spurted from his wound. He sank to his knees, driving the blade deeper.

  Sara and Rene screamed in unison.

  Mark released his grip, letting Ben slide to the floor with the knife protruding from his shoulder. An expression of disgust crossed Mark’s face as he stared at his blood-covered hands. He turned to the sink and twisted the taps, sending a torrent of ice cold water into the porcelain sink. He hesitated a moment before pushing his sleeves up and carefully washing his hands and arms with soap. He splashed his face gingerly, rinsing blood from his mouth and cheek.

  Ben grimaced in pain, but Mark ignored him, reaching for a kitchen towel to dry his hands.

  “Well Rene, see what happens when you try to defy me? Everyone around you suffers.” He tossed the towel on the counter top and turned to face her, his face a parody of understanding. “I said do you see what happens?” His voice held a threatening edge.