by Vi Lily
He then stood and lifted her in his arms. Even though he was strong, Beth was deadweight. While he could easily lift her and hold her, he wasn’t sure how long he could hike with her. If he could put her on his back somehow, it would make things a lot easier, but he didn’t see how that was going to happen.
Ben sighed; they were so far east that it was at least five miles back to the Jeep by his estimation. There was no way he’d make it that far carrying her. He could probably turn and head south and hit the road, but then what? The one lane dirt road wasn’t exactly well-traveled. In fact, this time of year, very few people would head this way, especially not in a snowstorm.
The other option was MeeLee Lake. It was maybe a mile east. He could make that, and there were cabins at the lake, so they could find shelter. The lake was closed to visitors this time of year, so there wouldn’t be any chance of finding help, but at least they could get warm and dry.
He shifted Beth in his arms and when she moaned, he leaned down and kissed her. It was then that he noticed how blue her lips were. He grabbed the end of the blanket with his teeth and pulled it over her face.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you warm.”
Chapter 3
H IS ARMS were numb by the time they broke through the trees and he could see the lake. The cabins were on the other side, though, which meant at least another ten minutes of carrying her… this time, through about a foot of snow.
Even though the weather guessers had called for “only” a foot of snow, there was still snow on the ground on the mountain. The top four or five inches was the new snowfall, heavy and wet, but underneath was a slippery crust.
As he slipped and almost fell — again, since he’d fallen three times already carrying Beth, thankfully, keeping her on top of him each time so he at least hadn’t crushed her — Ben asked for some divine intervention. He just needed to go another hundred yards to make it to the closest cabin.
He got that intervention, when he spotted a fairly snow-free path that looked like a deer trail. He moved toward it and once he reached it, was able to walk easier… and faster.
Since the cabins were locked up for the winter, Ben had to kick the door in of the closest one. Once he got inside, he pushed the door closed with his foot, but it didn’t stay shut. He hurried to lay Beth on the bed in the little one-room cabin, then dragged a chair from the dining table to hold the door closed.
He then shook his arms to get some blood flow back as he moved back to the bed. Beth hadn’t moved or even moaned in the last half hour. Ben was seriously worried about her. He pulled his phone out to check for a signal and cursed when not only was there no service, but the battery was also down to twenty-two percent. And of course, there was no electricity at the cabin. He was sure they turned everything off in the winter. Which meant no water either.
First things first, he told himself. Beth was still breathing, but her lips were blue. He then went outside and looked for some firewood. Two cabins over, he spotted a large pile. Thankfully, the cabins weren’t too far apart, so he didn’t have to walk much farther in the snow.
The wood was covered with a tarp, so Ben untied it and tossed it on the ground, then put a big pile of wood on it and hauled it back to the cabin. He had to use the matches in his bug-out bag to light the wood, but once he had a good fire going, he went back out and took the tarp back to the wood pile and recovered it. The top layer already had a good two inches on it just in that short time.
They were in for a lot more snow than what the weather guessers had said.
Back in the cabin, he propped the chair against the door again, hung his wet coat on a peg and then started going through the cabinets to see if there were any supplies. Thankfully, there was a pretty good stock of canned goods and even some bottled water. He decided he’d melt snow for drinking for now and save the bottled water in case something happened.
He’d always been a “better safe than sorry” kinda guy.
In the fridge, even though it wasn’t on thanks to lack of electricity, he found powdered milk, packets of hot chocolate mix, flour, sugar and even some unopened cereal. He was glad someone had the foresight to put those things in the fridge; otherwise, mice, bugs or even bears could have been attracted to the smell of the food.
There was enough food to last them maybe a week. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take that long to either be found, or to get out of there on their own.
Ben pulled out a cast iron skillet and opened a can of corned beef hash, then set it close to the fire to warm. He then unlaced his wet boots and put them on the hearth.
He cringed then, realizing that he’d left Beth in wet clothes. She would never get warm like that. Cursing himself for being such an idiot, he hurried to her and unwrapped the blankets. A small moan escaped her at the jostling, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Moaning meant she was still somewhat functional.
The blankets were damp, one from the snow and the other from her wet clothes, so he draped them over the dining chairs to dry. He then pulled her wet shoes off and placed them next to his, along with her socks. Her jeans and sweatshirt followed and he put those on the last available chair that he pulled up next to the fire so they’d dry faster.
He moved back to the bed and his eyes traveled over her body. Ben frowned; she was much thinner than had been before. While he’d never actually seen her naked, he’d had his hand up her shirt plenty of times and she’d never had ribs that stuck out like she did now.
Rod’s words came back to him then, telling of their mother not allowing Beth in the kitchen, of her only getting to eat at school. Ben growled at that; her mother was a royal bitch.
He shook his head from his thoughts and took off his sweatshirt. He then pulled it over her head, smiling when he saw that it almost hit her knees.
The bed didn’t have any sheets, so he started looking through closets and cabinets. He finally found linens and a quilt in a plastic tub under the bed. Not really wanting to disturb Beth by trying to make the bed around her, he instead draped the quilt over her.
Ben went into the kitchen and got a towel, then moved back to the fireplace to retrieve the skillet. The hash was sizzling and had even started to burn on the side that had been closest to the fire. He took the pan into the kitchen and dished some out onto a plate, then grabbed a cup and scooped some of the melted snow water.
“Beth, baby, wake up. You need to eat.” He put the plate on the floor and then pulled her to a sitting position and propped her back against the headboard. She never opened her eyes but moaned again and a little frown appeared between her eyes. Her cheeks were now pink and some of the blue had left her lips, which Ben took as a good sign.
He decided that water was most important, so he held the cup to her lips and tilted it up. Most of it dribbled down her chin, but then instinct seemed to take over and she allowed him to pour more into her mouth and she swallowed. He was then able to get several bites of food into her, all while she remained out of it.
At first, he thought she might be faking her unconscious state. But after he’d nearly dropped her the first time he’d slipped and they’d both gone down pretty hard — even though he’d kept Beth on top of him, she’d still been jarred — she’d never made a sound, so he knew that she truly was out.
Her cheeks were getting redder by the minute and he worried that she was too hot. But he didn’t think so. He reached out and felt her face; she was burning up.
Ben wondered if she was sick, if maybe she’d gotten a cold. But then he remembered his dad always telling his mom “you don’t get a cold from being cold” whenever she’d griped about them wearing shorts when playing soccer in cold weather.
But he was pretty sure you could lower your resistance and be more susceptible to viruses and stuff if you got cold. He remembered something about that in middle school health class.
And there was that nasty flu going around the school. A good portion of the kids and teachers had come down with it. Sore throat, high fever, then a
cough that sounded like you were hacking up your lungs. It was highly possible that Beth had been exposed.
But he had no idea if a fever was also a symptom of hypothermia. Like, did the body overcompensate for being so cold? He had no clue. It frustrated him that he didn’t know what to do for her.
And it worried him. He had such limited knowledge of hypothermia and frostbite — what little he did know he only knew because of a first aid course he’d had to take to be on the snowboarding team — so he was pretty sure that she didn’t have frostbite, and he knew not to warm her up too quickly, but other than that, he had nothing much to offer.
He was mostly worried about brain damage.
There was no hope of a rescue anytime soon. No one was up in these parts this time of year, other than the occasional Game and Fish officer. He hoped that maybe someone would spot the smoke from their fireplace and come investigate, but that was a slim-to-none chance.
It was also unlikely anyone would report them missing.
His mom and dad were gone; her parents didn’t give a crap about her. Rod would honestly be glad if Beth disappeared. So, that left Gwen, who might get enough balls to call someone, but even that was a slim chance. She would worry about pissing him off if she did call someone, then stress out over it being discovered that their parents were missing, then she’d freak out over the possibility of being put into foster care…
Yeah, Gwen was probably not going to call anyone either.
Which meant it was up to him to get them off this mountain. Ben sighed; it was a good six miles back to the Jeep, at least. In the snow, which was probably going to be knee deep by the morning. There was no way he could carry Beth that far. When he’d lugged the wood over to their cabin on the tarp, he’d considered using it as a way of transporting her. But he couldn’t risk her getting cold again, especially not so soon after nearly freezing to death.
The only option was to leave her there alone and head out on his own, then hope to hell he could drive back to get her. The problem was that there was a very good possibility that the road to the lake was gated, which would mean a chain and padlock. He had bolt cutters in his toolbox in the Jeep, but they wouldn’t be strong enough to cut through a big lock or a heavy chain.
Leaving Beth alone did not sit well with him. At. All. For one thing, if she were still unconscious, then he didn’t want to leave her with a fire burning. But he also didn’t want to leave her without a fire going and have her get too cold again.
Plus, who knew what all could happen while he was gone. He figured it would take a couple of hours to get back to the Jeep in the snow, and then it would take at least that long to drive back, because the road went all the way around the lake. There was no possibility of heading cross-country, even with a lifted four-wheel-drive vehicle. The terrain was just too rough.
But what if something happened to him on the way? What if he fell and broke his leg or something? Beth would then be stuck in the cabin all by herself for who knew how long. With no way to communicate with anyone, limited supplies, and bear sightings in the area.
Hell no.
The only hope they had was for someone to find them, or to wait until she recovered enough to walk back with him.
Neither were looking like good options.
Ben realized then he was dead tired, so he put the plate in the kitchen, tossed a few more logs on the fire, then climbed on the bed and slid under the quilt, pulling Beth down from her sitting position as he curled around her.
He fell asleep with her hot body in his arms — and he’d smiled at that thought, meaning it literally with the fever — the smell of her tickling his nose and thinking this was the most comfortable he’d been in… ever.
WE
Chapter 1
Beth
I WAKE TO weird sensations. I’m freezing cold, but I’m also bundled up. My throat feels like I swallowed broken glass and followed that up with a jalapeno juice chaser. Every freaking part of my body aches. I feel like I’m a hundred years old, having lived a life as a Hollywood stuntwoman.
Pretty sure I’m dying.
But I also feel snuggly and comfortable. Like I’m wrapped up in a blanket of blueberry pancakes, lying on a bed of Jell-O and marshmallows.
My stomach growls at the thought of food and I realize I must not be dying after all if I’m thinking about food. But then a definite male-sounding chuckle vibrates in my ear and I almost die of fright.
I squirm to look at who belongs to the arm that is holding me… the arm that I thought was a comfy blanket just a moment ago. And then I almost die again when I see who it is.
Ben.
Pretty sure my eyes would bug out of my head if they weren’t so swollen. Why are my eyes swollen? I feel like I’ve been in a fight. But the bigger question is: Why the hell is Ben in my bed with me? How did he get here and… just why?
I can’t remember anything of the night before. Dread creeps over me as I remember that horrible day when I woke up and couldn’t remember. I am positive I had been drugged that time.
Is it possible that Ben somehow drugged me and… violated me? Like father, like son…
But that doesn’t make any sense at all, because he hates me. Despises me. Blames me for ruining his family, destroying his father’s career and his own chance at another winning soccer season.
Yet, Ben isn’t looking at me like he hates me. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say the “old Ben” is back, the one who used to look at me like I was everything to him.
I shake those stupid thoughts away and think back to the last thing I remember. I’d been lost in the woods, trying to find the others, finally realizing that I’d been left behind. My throat had been hurting so bad, and I knew I was getting sick. I’d been so scared.
And now I’m in a comfy bed, wrapped up in Ben’s arms.
It dawns on me then that I’m not at home. I must be at Ben’s house, then, which is weird, because I really don’t think any of the mansions in Oak Place have log walls.
He reaches toward my face and I flinch. I’m so used to being pushed, shoved, having things thrown at me, and yeah, people taking cheap shots, that I can’t help being a little cringey. I glance at him and I see that he’s frowning. Not like he’s mad, but like he’s concerned.
Weird. Not sure what dimension I’ve awakened in, but I like it a lot better than the other one.
I think then that I’m either dreaming, or that the other memories, the ones that are filled with abuse in every form, are a nightmare that I’m just waking up from.
I’ll stick with the last one, cuz that would mean Ben and I are still together.
“How are you feeling?” he asks as he slowly moves his hand toward my face again to brush the hair off my face and then feels my forehead. His touch is so gentle, it makes me want to cry.
I don’t though. “I—” wow, my voice is super deep and raspy. I try clearing my throat, but the pain is so bad from that, I get tears in my eyes. And now I’m crying, dammit.
Ben frowns again, a concerned look. “Don’t cry, baby,” he whispers as he strokes my cheek, his fingers moving up to where a tear escapes and slides into my hair.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He winces then. “Never again,” he adds.
I don’t doubt that, not now. He’s being so gentle, and his beautiful turquoise eyes are looking at me with what could be mistaken for love, if I didn’t know better.
I shake my head. “No,” I grit out, correcting his assumption. “Throat hurts.”
His frown deepens and he scoots off the bed. My eyes widen at the fact that he’s shirtless, and despite how crappy I feel, I can’t help but stare. I might be drooling a little too. He’s definitely not built like a kid. He is all man.
Big, gorgeous, sexy as hell man.
And oh my gawd, he does have tattoos! I’d never seen him in anything but long sleeves, since it’s been freaking cold since we moved here. He’s got tribal tatts on both shoulders that go down to his bice
ps. Then I realize they’re not tribal, per se, but those seriously cool and sexy Polynesian tatts. A nod to his Samoan heritage.
I watch as he hurries to my side of the bed and picks up a cup from the floor, then moves to… a kitchen? Okay, now I know we’re not at his house. Even mansions don’t have kitchens in the bedroom.
Ben scoops up something liquid from a pot on the counter and I glance around. We’re in a cabin somewhere. Which makes no sense, but then, nothing is making sense.
He walks back to the bed and helps me sit up. I lean against his muscular arm while he holds the cup for me, like I’m a small child. Normally, I’d bitch about being treated like that, but at the moment, feeling as crappy as I do, I’m gonna soak up the attention.
The water is cold, almost too cold, as I painfully swallow it down because I’m really thirsty. I’ve never had this bad of a sore throat, not even when I had strep. The water feels good, numbing, but it’s hell getting it down.
It takes me two more cups before I’m finally satisfied, then he lowers me back to the pillow. I watch as he puts a couple of logs in a fireplace near the bed and pokes at it with a metal rod thing. I’ve always envied people who knew how to do stuff like that, building fires and all. I have no clue. We didn’t even have a fireplace at our house in Cali, and the mansion has gas fireplaces. You just have to turn a knob and voilà, instant cozy fire.
Ben moves back to his side of the bed — and I’m trying not to think too hard on how I’m referring to “his side” and “my side” — then scoots in next to me and pulls the quilt over his body.
The body that I am very much aware of and also trying not to think too hard about how beautiful it is. He definitely isn’t built like any of the boys I’d seen in Cali, even the athletes and surfers. Those boys were lean, with cut muscles. Not with bulky muscles like Ben’s.
