“What happened?”
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “His wife happened.”
“He was married?”
“Yep.”
He frowned. “Did you know that?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her chin dimpled. “Yep. But she was really mean to him.”
Regi cringed at how pathetic she sounded. “How’d you meet?”
She smacked her lips together and glided her hand across the table, then sat back in her chair as if she’d come to a conclusion. But it was a long moment before she eyeballed him and cleared her throat. “I was just eighteen. Milton was much older. Eighteen years older, actually. I thought he was the most incredible man in the world. He was my boss. He owned the company and he was very successful. Really going places.” She sighed.
Regi thought about Thomas, her new boss, and how ironic it was that history was repeating itself.
“Milton traveled the country, you know, flitting from one fancy hotel to the next. He took me with him when he could. Vegas, New York, LA.” She heaved another sigh, as if struggling to feed her lungs. “We were so in love.”
Regi tried but failed to picture his mother with a man that she truly loved. It seemed to him that Milton was a user and she’d fallen for his fancy shit. He resisted commenting, though, and waited for her to continue.
“His wife caught us. She showed up at our hotel in Chicago. It was horrible.”
Regi touched her arm, trying to portray sympathy he didn’t feel.
“She told Milton to get rid of me or she’d take him for everything he had. It wasn’t fair—he’d built the business from scratch and she just wanted to waltz in and take the whole thing.”
Regi refrained from pointing out that she probably had every right to do that.
“But then I found out we were pregnant. It was the best and worst day of my life.” When she looked at him, Regi saw distress in her eyes, but for the first time he didn’t pity her.
“You deserved so much more,” she said. “I wish you’d had a chance to know him; he would’ve been the perfect father. But Milton and I made a pact. He looked after us, making sure we always had money. We were careful too; he paid me every month in cash… so there was no paper trail.”
Every month. Cash. His mind spun. Then it hit him. “You kept seeing him?”
She nodded and lowered her eyes. “Right up until he died.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“He’s dead?” Not once had Regi considered that his father would be dead.
“Yes. He died in a helicopter crash in Canada.”
“Canada?”
She sighed and wriggled her head like it was all floppy. “He took his fiancée and son for a vacation.”
“What the fuck? He was engaged, and had a son? I have a brother?”
Her eyes rolled and Regi feared she was about to fade away.
“Did. You did have a half-brother, but Kane’s dead too. They’re all dead.”
As he glared at her, a million questions bolted through his brain at once. “When? When did they die?”
She went cross-eyed. “About four years ago. That’s why I have no more money. It’s all gone.”
Regi clutched her wrist and shook it. “What money?”
“The cash he gave me, silly. Five thousand every month. He never missed a payment.”
“Five thousand,” he gasped. “Holy shit, where is it?”
She pointed to the decorative tin that was now on the floor in the corner. The lid was nowhere to be seen. Regi had been walking past that tin for years and had never thought twice about it. He turned back to his mother and her eyes grew so wide he was worried they’d pop right out of her head. “Seven thousand. That was all I had left. Now it’s all gone.”
Regi frowned at the tin, trying to comprehend that she’d been stashing money in there all this time. He turned back to her. “You kept money in that stupid tin?”
“Yep. Milton said no paper trail. Always a secret.” She put her finger to her lips. “Shh.” Her head flopped to the side and her eyes fluttered closed.
“What about his estate? Did he leave you anything?”
“No paper trail, remember? You’re so silly.”
“But… did you fight it?”
“No proof.” She wobbled her head side to side. “Not even a photo. Now he’s dead.”
Regi shook her arm. “Mom. Mom.”
But she’d slipped into drug-induced oblivion.
Regi got up and paced the room. His boots crunched on china shards as he strode from one end to the other. His brain flew from one thought to the next. This revelation created as many questions as it did answers.
Now he understood how his mother always had money. It also explained why she’d hit a whole new level of depression four years ago.
Five thousand dollars! Each month. Cash!
Bitch.
Half that money was his. And she’d snorted it up her nose. If she’d been awake, he would’ve shaken her until her bones rattled. Not that it would’ve mattered. The money was gone.
His mother groaned, rolled her head sideways, and smacked her lips together. He’d always thought of her as the victim. In his mind, she’d been the innocent one in the relationship with his father. But she was just as much to blame as he was. To have kept their affair going all these years, especially when Milton was married, then engaged, and had a kid? It was totally fucked up.
I have a half-brother? Had a half-brother.
Regi strode to her bedroom with the intention of going through her drawers to find something, anything, to confirm her statements were true. He couldn’t even push her door open. There was shit everywhere. Clothes, shoes, underwear, papers. Every drawer had been upended and the clothes in the closet tossed out. The pillows had been slit open and bits of fluff covered everything. He once again wondered if the thugs had been looking for something, and now that he understood the extent of his mother’s lies, he wondered if they’d found it.
Five thousand dollars every month.
He couldn’t get the figure out of his mind. Milton was rich. That’s what his mother had said. To have a wife, a fiancée, and a mistress that he’d paid off for twenty-odd years… he must’ve been extremely wealthy. And the helicopter ride in Canada. That wouldn’t have been cheap.
An idea hit him like a thunderbolt. If Milton was his dad, then surely Regi had a claim to his estate.
All he had to do was prove Milton was his father.
Chapter Sixteen
Four months later
Amber breathed in the crisp air, let it out in a cloudy plume, and tried not to focus on the flurrying snow crystals that landed on every available surface. She’d given up wiping it from her legs. Instead, she wedged her hands between her thighs, trying to ward off the cold that was determined to invade her fingers.
In the five months she’d been coming to Altitude Mountain Resort, she’d grown accustomed to the cold. Not her feet and hands, though—they still felt frozen to the bone every time. Maybe it was the expensive thermal clothing she had beneath her ski gear, which Kelli had helped her choose. Or maybe it was her determination that had put her body’s issues aside so she could concentrate on her mission. Either way, she’d come to enjoy her weekends on the mountain with the eternally effervescent Kelli.
The chairlift they were riding was the longest on the mountain, taking them up to the only black run, and Kelli had been speaking almost nonstop since their chair had left the terminal eight minutes ago. Amber had no idea how Kelli did it. If her stories were to be believed, and Amber did believe them, then Kelli partied until nearly four o’clock this morning. Yet she somehow managed to be outrageously excited to see Amber at their regular nine o’clock start.
Amber would have been in bed at nine, ensuring she was ready for the next day. Although Kelli was only two years younger than her, she was a thousand years away in every other aspect. By the time they reached the top, Amber was exhausted just listening to what Kelli di
d up until just five hours ago.
They pushed off the chair and settled at the edge of the slope to survey down the mountain toward where the resort should be. But it wasn’t there; a cloud as thick as sponge had shrouded it completely.
“Looks like we’re in for a bit of a snow storm.” Kelli said it ridiculously chirpy, like she’d been talking about a nail polish color rather than something that looked like it’d give them a good lashing.
Amber had only experienced two days of poor weather since she’d started visiting this mountain, and both of those she’d spent inside, curled up by the fire, scouring the internet for information about Angel and Frederick.
“Ready?” Amber adjusted her ski mask.
“I guess so.”
“Course you are, we’ve done it tons of times.”
That was true. This five-mile ski run was classed as black at the top because of its initial steep vertical descent, which included a few moguls. It leveled out to a cruisy red run that took a wide berth around the resort and hit black run steepness again. At the bottom they’d ride a surface lift back up to the resort. The first time she’d done it, Amber had been petrified and had spent most of the descent on her bum. But thanks to Kelli’s insistence she’d done it at least a dozen times since then, and each time was an improvement on the last.
“Come on, I’m getting hungry.” Kelli gave Amber a playful shoulder nudge.
Side by side, they glided their skis over the edge and set off down the slope. The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through her as the wind lapped at her ski jacket. Powdered snow inches thick blanketed the run, making it as smooth as water. Amber hit the moguls in no time and guided her skis through them with a series of quick flick-back turns.
“Beat ya,” Kelli yelled as they popped out the bottom of the moguls. Amber laughed with the crazy young woman as they flew toward the next turn.
Her clouded breaths shot in and out in rapid succession as her energy level hit maximum. She wished Oliver could see her now, tearing up the snow-burdened slope like an expert. He’d smile at her, with that look of pride that she’d come to love.
She was so lost in thought that when she reached the bottom of the black run she was surprised at how black and burdened the sky looked.
When she glanced at Kelli, who’d paused at a line of trees, her usual smiling face was gone and Amber thought she saw terror written on her features.
“What?” Amber scooted across the snow toward her.
“I think I heard the siren. That’s not good. We’ve gotta get off the mountain.”
“What siren?”
“Storm siren. We need to do this fast and hard. I know you can do it, Amber. Let’s go.” Kelli shot forward, heading toward a cloud that seemed to be sitting on the snow. It was the first time Kelli hadn’t let her lead the way, and that one simple action highlighted how serious this was.
Bolts of fear shot up Amber’s back, and her heart was in her throat as she drove her poles into the powder and chased after Kelli. She tucked her sticks under her elbows, hunched over, offering as little wind resistance as she could, and let gravity take over.
The ski run’s vertical descent was over one and a quarter mile and, being south-facing, it held the snow well. Sometimes too well, and they’d have to wade knee-deep to get through it. Not today, though. It was an ideal four inches or so, which gave little resistance. Amber guessed she was flying at about thirty miles per hour and that scared her more than the black clouds swirling overhead.
Kelli was a red blur in the distance, cutting through the white haze with a series of tight swishes. Amber couldn’t tell, but she was certain Kelli would be taking frequent glances over her shoulder to confirm she was still behind her.
The wind screamed rather than howled and struck her at every angle; it was an effort just to remain upright. Sleet and snow attacked in a relentless torrent, and the icy needles pounded her only exposed skin—her face.
A clap of thunder pierced her eardrums, and when a fork of lightning cut through the clouds, she reached up to shield her head. It was the wrong move.
Her face hit the snow and Amber tumbled over and over, cartwheeling down the slope. Her skis flung off and her body nearly snapped in half when she hit a tree.
The wind punched out of her and her ribs suffered the full brunt of the impact. She crumpled into a heap at the base of the tree, and it was a couple of frantic heartbeats before she realized what’d happened.
Giant trees above her bent and moaned, spitting clumps of heavy snow from their overburdened branches. She searched for Kelli, praying she’d appear out of nowhere. But visibility was barely three feet. After straining to see through the whiteout, her heart sank as she conceded Kelli was gone.
Amber was alone. Scared and alone.
Suddenly she was back on that icy ledge. Battered and broken. Frozen to her core, and so scared she could hardly breathe. Dread crawled up her spine as she remembered the terror that’d numbed her brain. She felt that now. Not from the deafening cracks of thunder that split through the menacing cloud. Not from the ice that pummeled from the sky like bullets. It was the fact that she was alone. Freezing, terrified, and alone.
The moaning trees took on a life of their own, and brittle limbs were torn from the trunks, adding extra ammunition to the ice-laden gale-force winds.
A tree limb crashed at Amber’s side, and it was the jolt she needed to get moving. She dragged her body upright, and that’s when she remembered that her skis had snapped off in the fall. If she was to get out of this, she needed them.
She pushed off the trunk and, after a frantic search, found evidence of the path she’d tumbled down. It was nearly obliterated by the snow and wind. Using her poles for support, she tracked her path uphill. Each pace was a heavy step upward, and as she contemplated crawling on her hands and knees a sense of urgency gripped her like a full-blown fever. One ski appeared out of nowhere just eight steps away, and she plucked it from the ground.
Continuing upward, she lost all sense of time. She lost all sense of direction. All she had was uphill or downhill. Her heart thumped in her ears with both exhaustion and panic.
The second ski was nearly buried, and it was by pure luck that she stood on it. Shattered, she crumbled to the snow.
It’d be easy to stop. To crawl into a ball and wait for it to be over.
But, for the first time in years, she wanted to live.
An image of Oliver pitched into her brain. He was smiling at her—not just smiling, he was so proud of her he was bursting. She loved that look. But it was more than that. So much more. Oliver was entering her heart. Little by little. Filling her heart with a want she’d never felt before. Never. Even with Milton. This was deeper. Right into her soul. And each time she resisted Oliver’s advances she saw the confusion in his eyes… and the hurt. She hated herself every time. She desperately wanted to tell him her feelings, and everything else too. Most of all, she needed to be with Oliver.
She pushed up from the snow. Dying here was not an option.
Oliver drove her to succeed in the gym. He drove her to succeed now too.
The blizzard was merciless, buffeting her with invisible fists that packed a punch, but she forced her mind to concentrate on getting down the mountain. She angled her body sideways and clipped on her skis.
Debris tumbled in the vortex, peppering the whiteout with chunks of black, and it was impossible to differentiate sky from ground. Gravity was her only certainty. With that knowledge, she inhaled a deep shaky breath and angled her skis downhill.
Although she couldn’t see them, the trees that lined the ski run were her only hope to keeping on track, so she glided to the left until they came into view. Tempering her speed with the angle of her skis, she counted her turns as a way of keeping her mind off the insanity around her. At one hundred, she started again.
Progression was slow. Not the blizzard, though—the ferocious wind seemed to get stronger around every turn. But she pushed on. A
couple of times she recognized different aspects of the run, but it was when she saw the marker indicating she was near the surface lift she just about cried with relief.
A wire above caught her eye, and she yelled for joy at the sight of it. It was the cable that pulled the T-bars up the hill. But her joy was short-lived when she realized it wasn’t moving.
Her one and only way to get up to the resort had stopped.
Without any other choice, she forced the tears from her eyes and used the overhead wires to guide her to the turnstile that powered the T-bar up the mountain. At the very least, she could hide in the turnstile shed until the storm was over. With a bit of luck, there may even be a phone inside.
She passed the stationary T-bars that were positioned at regular intervals and was grateful just to have something to follow. The bright yellow building that housed the turning circle for the T-bars appeared amidst the whiteout, but it was the presence of Kelli, who came running with open arms, that had tears of relief springing to Amber’s eyes.
Kelli wrapped her in a bear hug and openly wept as she apologized a thousand times.
“It’s okay.” She squeezed Kelli to her chest.
“No, it’s not. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find you. I’ve been going out of my mind.”
“I crashed when that lightning hit. Did you see it?”
“Way up the top?” Kelli hugged her again. “You’re amazing. Come inside, you must be freezing.”
She turned and clomped ahead while Amber skied the final couple of yards to the shed. And that was all it really was: a shed, with only three walls because the wire fed in and out of the open side. But after what Amber had just been through, it was a mansion.
She clipped out of her skis and joined Kelli in the corner.
“You must’ve been scared outta your mind.” Kelli wrapped her arms around Amber again.
She shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”
Extreme Limit Page 12