Devoted to the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 3) (25 page)

I watched helplessly as she gracefully approached him. In his panic, he tried to jump from the chair to get away. When his limbs didn’t move as expected, he flung his hands out for purchase, grabbing nothing but air. His eyes went white in surprise. Josh hit the floor with a sickening thud, the chair clattering beside him seconds later.

Angie froze mid-stride and put her hand on her hip. “Well, I guess that takes care of that.”

No matter how hard I fought my body, I couldn’t get it to move fast enough. I wanted to flee, to call for help, to fight in some way, but I couldn’t even find the strength to stand. I sank to my knees.
I have to bring her down to my level
, I thought.

While she was still distracted by Josh, I lunged for her ankles, hoping to hook at least one leg and knock her to the floor. After that, I’d find some way to incapacitate her and call for help. In my mind, I moved like a cheetah. In reality, she side stepped my grasp like I was moving in slow motion. I nearly fell on my face, and only barely caught myself before I cracked my nose on the floor.

Angie tittered as she crouched down. “Oh, Bry. After all these years, I can still read you like a book.” The way she spoke made my skin crawl. “Let’s get you bundled up. It’s a cold day. I don’t want you catching hypothermia as I tend to my other… errands.”

Helplessly, I watched her walk to the hall closet to retrieve my coat. While her back was turned, I jammed a finger down my throat as far as I could. If I couldn’t fight her, at least I could clear my head and body of the poison she’d slipped in. Once, twice, my stomach clenched, and I brought up the orange juice and muffin. Angie let out a cry of frustration as I heaved again, emptying my gut.

“Damn it, Bry! I didn’t want to have to restrain you, but now you’ve…
ugh
. This is seriously unattractive,” she said with a sneer.

I smiled up at her, the endorphins clearing my mind a fraction. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

“You’re ruining everything,” she moaned. Angie opened a nearby drawer and slammed it shut, opening the next. She pulled out a fair-sized kitchen knife and brandished it. “You’re going to behave, right? This is going to be the most important day in our lives, and I can’t have you destroying it.”

I cleared my throat and spat at her, missing her feet by inches. Unfazed, she knelt down and yanked my chin up. She slowly slipped the knife under my chin, leaving my head balanced on the sharp point. “Nothing is going to ruin our special day.”

As my eyes rolled open, the bright fluorescent lights above blinded me. I blinked slowly, attempting to adjust and focus on my surroundings. My thoughts were slow, fuzzy. They cloyed at the edges as I reached for any explanation.
Where am I? What happened? Where’s Bryan?
The questions came thick and heavy. I fought the weight of my eyelids, and looked around the room to discover that I was in a hospital of some sort. The curtains were drawn, but I could hear mumbled voices on the other side.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice dry and scratchy.

A thick hand pulled the curtain back, and Henry’s warm, concerned face popped around the corner. Still disoriented and confused, I gave him a little wave before falling back onto the pillow.

“Hey, Miss Croyden.”

I frowned at his professionalism and lack of uniform. I hadn’t seen him in plain clothes before. “Henry, it’s Liz. Call me Liz. We’ve been through so much together.” As I spoke, the words felt foreign in my mouth. With a numb shock, I realized I was doped up out of my mind. I looked to my hand and found an IV line trailing all the way to a bag hanging above my bed. “Oh shit,” I laughed. “Henry, my tongue feels too big for my mouth. Is that normal?”

“Liz, do you remember what happened?” he asked as he sat beside me. A few more policemen entered the room, and a rising panic began to grow just under the haze of drugs.

“What happened?” I repeated, sorting through the scatter of memories. They came to me in fuzzy flashes, like scenes from a hard night of drinking. They were feelings mostly, but the image I found clearest was Angie’s face.

“She was there!” I gasped. I tried to sit up. The threat felt real, like she loomed over me that very moment.

Henry put a hand on my shoulder and eased me back to the pillow. “We figured as much. They found the last letter tucked inside your suit.”

My thoughts began to clear, the horror and panic pushing through the drugs.
Angie was there. There was an explosion. Holy shit, all those people…
My last thought jumped from my lips just as it popped into my head.

“Where’s Bryan? Why isn’t he here?” Henry exchanged looks with a man across the room and I flipped. “No! You don’t look at him. Look at me. Where’s Bryan?”

“Your coach tried to contact him just after the accident, but couldn’t get in touch. We thought he might be at the lodge, but with all the chaos… Anyway, we sent a car to the house and…” he took a deep breath, like he really didn’t want to continue.

“Please just say it,” I said firmly, telling myself I was brave enough to hear any answer.

“Your publicist was found passed out, apparently drugged. He’s hit his head pretty hard. There was no sign of Bryan, but the scene indicated a struggle. We just don’t know for sure if it was Bryan who put up a fight or Josh.”

Angie’s pouty, psychotic face appeared in my mind as plainly as if she were standing in the same room, her expression twisted with pure hatred. “She has him, I’m sure of it. She wanted to kill me. I could see it in her eyes.” I looked up to Henry, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. “I know that look. I’ve seen it before. She would’ve done it if the other rescuers had arrived so quickly.” I sat up suddenly. “She was wearing a ski patrol jacket, does that help?”

Henry nodded to the policeman across the room as he jotted it down. “It just might. Is there anything else you can think of that might help us figure out where she is?”

I racked my brain, pushing through the waves of anguish and shock. As the drugs wore off, my body throbbed with growing pain, but I had to find something.

“What about the letter she left on me? Maybe she left clues in some of the letters, right? Something that might…” My voice trailed off as Henry handed me the slip of paper. I tried to ignore the splatter of blood on the top corner as I read it.

0

Let’s see who gets to walk away with the hero.

I wanted to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. Instead, I tore the needle from the back of my hand and squeezed my eyes shut. “There has to be something…” I whispered.

Something Bryan said… but he never really talks about their time together! What if she hurts him? What if she’s planning on killing him or… no. I can’t think like that. I have to assume she’s just kidnapping him, taking him… where? Goddamnit, where would they go? It’s not like this is a big country, and she can’t exactly fly out undetected. Think, Liz! There has to be…

It was a like a voice whispered the answer in the back of my mind. The knowledge lurked there, undetected for over a month. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, but it seemed the most likely answer. I paused, rolled it over a couple times before I looked to Henry.

“When Angie was in
Playboy
, she said she always wanted to get engaged or married or some shit while bungee jumping. Said something about how it was so romantic, taking the plunge together. I don’t know. It’s a long shot, but something tells me she’s taken him somewhere like that. It’s my best guess, because she specifically mentioned New Zealand.”

Henry studied me for a moment before nodding to the other men in the room. “Split up. We’ll check the swing as well, but that still leaves four locations to look into.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My body was still a bit numb with pain killers and in my panic to help find Bryan, I’d completely forgotten about my injury. The jolt of pain rocked me as I tried to stand. I grabbed my bandaged thigh, and fell back to the bed with a grunt.

“You should stay here. We can handle this,” Henry said.

I looked up at him, trying to convey with my eyes how impossible that would be. The pain was too much, too overwhelming to form words. I shook my head and gingerly climbed to my feet again, this time putting all my weight on my left leg.

“Liz, really…”

“I can’t just sit here.
Please
.”

Angie secured my feet and hands before forcing me into the trunk of her car. I tried to keep track of each turn she made, mentally mapping out the route, but quickly lost track. All I could think about was Liz and how terrified she was going to be when she found me missing. It could be hours before she knows, too… with the race and all. That thought scared me more.

Angie always had a selfish streak. Possessive? Sure. Dramatic? Most definitely. Violent? Not that I ever saw. It was clear she was completely deranged. Something had snapped in her brain, and she was now someone I no longer recognized. I had to push my preconceived notions about her out of my mind, and accept that I was dealing with a dangerous person.

The car stopped abruptly. A door squeaked open and slammed shut. Angie gently rapped on the hood of the trunk. “You stay put, lover. And don’t bother screaming for help. I parked a mile away from anyone and anything.” She knocked harder on the side and laughed. “I won’t be long.”

I thrashed, kicked, screamed until I was sure my throat bled. Out of sheer force of will, I managed to bring up the last of the orange juice. I’m not sure how long I was trapped in that trunk, but it seemed like hours. My body heat was able to keep the small space warmer than the outside, but by the time I heard the roar of a snowmobile approaching, I couldn’t stop shivering.

The engine grew deafeningly loud, and then cut just beside the car. Although muffled, I heard Angie curse. I was rocked around in the trunk as she jumped inside, the car springing to life. Tires spinning out on the icy pavement, she maneuvered a fast three-point turn and rocketed down the road.

“Everything fine back there?” she yelled. Her voice was shaky, fearful. I stayed quiet, hoping if she thought something was wrong she’d stop to check and I’d have a chance to get out. But instead, she continued to talk, a constant conversation I took no part in.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been together, hasn’t it? You haven’t changed a bit,” she giggled. “Well, maybe a little. You look older than when we were together, but somehow a little more handsome. Oh, I can’t wait to get the photos back from the photographer!” She paused, as if listening to a response. “No, our photos are going to be much better. You don’t think so?” Her voice grew dark, pissy. “Well, for one thing, they won’t have a fucking prostitute in them, Bry-an. Not that I’m blaming you… she is pretty in her own way, especially in person.”

She continued her insane tirade, but my mind latched onto that last statement.
Especially in person. Has she hurt Liz? Jesus, did she get to her before I woke up? Is that why Josh was at the house, to see where she was?
In that moment, I was more terrified than I ever have been.

The car took a hard right and skidded along the gravel. My body slid against the side, crumpling and bending in ways that fired pain up and down my joints. I cried out despite my best efforts to keep silent.

“Sorry baby! I’m still not used to driving on the wrong side of the road!” she called back in a sing-songy voice. “We’ll be there soon.”