Ice

by Stephanie Rowe

  He’d tried after his father had died. Had gone out in the clearing behind his house. Never heard the earth’s messages again.

  Not until now.

  Not until he came back to the place where it had begun. Not until Kaylie had come into his life. Not until she had soothed his spirit.

  And for the first time in years, the earth spoke to him, telling him of the one weakness of their hideout.

  The cliffs.

  Bill would be coming down the cliffs.

  And Cort would be waiting for him.

  Slowly, Cort opened his eyes and looked around, half expecting his dad to be leaning against a tree, watching him with a twinkle in his eye. To see Kaylie standing beside his dad, his mom next to her.

  His parents would have liked Kaylie. They would have liked her soul.

  His gaze stopped on a bent pine. That was the tree his dad had always propped himself against when they’d been out here.

  Cort could almost see his dad, the utter relaxation of his body, the calm ease of his expression.

  Cort sat back on his heels at the image, realizing that his dad had been at absolute peace with himself.

  That he’d loved flying, because it was peace for him.

  Not a way to outrun the restlessness in his soul.

  Cort had never felt peace in his life. Not in the air. Not on the ground.

  Not like his dad.

  Not like this.

  Not until Kaylie.

  He turned and looked back in the direction of the cabin, thought of Kaylie back there. For the first time he could remember, his first thought wasn’t how soon he could be back in the air.

  He was thinking about her.

  The woman he couldn’t keep.

  “Stupid jerk.” Kaylie slammed her bag onto the dusty bed, covering her face as clouds of dust flew up. Of course, the minute she realized she loved him, Cort chose that minute to walk out on her.

  Bastard.

  She sighed as she sat down on the bed, knowing he wasn’t a bastard.

  He was smart. He had enough discipline not to destroy them both. Smarter than she was, apparently.

  A light tap on the door caught her attention, and she whirled around. “Cort?”

  A rustling from beneath the door caught her attention, and as she watched, a dirty white envelope slid into sight.

  She hesitated, then walked across and picked it up.

  Opened it.

  A photo of Mason, wearing only a pair of boxers. Of his leg. Swollen, discolored. An open gash across his stomach. Infected, and oozing.

  He was dying.

  “Oh, God.”

  The light tap sounded on the door again. “Open the door now, or your brother’s dead.”

  She recoiled at the sound of Bill’s voice. Too early! He was too early!

  He must have been there all along. Waiting for them. Dear God. Where was Cort?

  She glanced over at the shotgun Cort has left behind, but she had no idea how to use it. And if she killed him…God knew where her brother was. He’d die. But if she went with him—

  The picture window behind her shattered.

  She whirled around as Bill stepped over the frame, a small handgun pointed at her. He was wearing a climbing harness and crampons, and she realized he’d come down the cliff. God, she should have thought of that! Those cliffs were nothing for someone like her parents. Like Bill.

  “Let’s go.”

  Her throat dry, she sprinted for the door. “Cort! Bill’s here!”

  She yanked it open, and Bill tackled her, driving her to the ground, hand over her mouth, knife at her throat.

  The woods were silent.

  No Cort.

  And she knew she had lost.

  As Cort stood in the meadow, a sense of wrongness began to trickle down his spine.

  Of threat.

  He turned his head, scanning the woods around him, but nothing was out of place.

  Then he heard it.

  The chink of metal on rock.

  And again.

  At the cabin.

  At the cliffs.

  The bastard’s early. Son of a bitch!

  Cort took off at a dead sprint, sheer terror for Kaylie driving him to run harder than he ever thought he could.

  He reached the cabin, charged through the open door. “Kaylie!”

  Empty.

  Swearing, he ran outside, shading his eyes as he looked up.

  Saw them at the top of the south cliff, two shadowed figures disappearing over the rim.

  “Kaylie!”

  Knowing he’d never make it up the cliff in time, he sprinted for his plane, jerked the door open, and hurled himself in. Whipped off the throttle lock and sped straight down the knoll. Caught air and banked sharply, heading straight up to the top of the cliff.

  Got to the top, saw Kaylie fighting as Bill tossed her into Old Tom’s plane.

  Bill looked up at Cort, then stopped, watching the plane.

  The old bastard didn’t try to stop Kaylie when she squirmed free and started running toward the edge of the cliff.

  He just stood there.

  Watching.

  As if waiting—

  “Shit!” A sense of foreboding hit Cort a split second before the engine began to seize. Swearing, he looked down.

  No oil.

  Son of a bitch had drained it, and like some stupid rookie pilot, Cort hadn’t noticed.

  Smoke began to rise, and then the engine quit. Plane began a headfirst dive straight toward the ground

  He shot a glance at Kaylie, saw her staring at the plane, willed her to turn away. Not to watch. Then he had no choice but to turn his attention to the plane, fighting to control the landing, to ease the damage.

  And then he hit.

  Kaylie stared in numb horror as she watched the smoke spew from the engine of Cort’s plane.

  It banked sharply, then plummeted straight down toward the ground. “No!” she shouted and ran to the edge of the cliff, falling to her hands and knees as she watched the plane crash.

  The sound of metal tearing screamed through the air. The plane flipped, pieces flew off the body like shrapnel. The left wing tore off with an earsplitting shriek and the tail catapulted into the side of the cliff. “Cort!”

  The plane hit the side of a rock and crumpled, as if it had been made of tinfoil.

  And then it was still.

  Smoke rose from the battered heap. A smoldering lump of metal, unrecognizable as a plane.

  “My God. Cort.” Flames began to lick at the back, galvanizing her into action. She leapt to her feet and ran for the edge of the cliff. She had to get him out. If he was still alive—he had to be alive—he would be trapped in there. The flames were coming. She had to get down there—

  Bill caught her arm and yanked her back from the edge.

  “No!” she screamed, fighting him desperately. “I have to get down there! Cort!”

  Frantic, she clawed at Bill’s face, drawing blood, and he didn’t let go. He just dragged her mercilessly back toward the plane, away from the cliff. Away from Cort. “No!” Tears streaming down her face, she struggled. “Cort!”

  Bill threw her into the plane, then slammed a fist into the side of her head.

  She went down hard, pain ringing through her brain, gasping at the agony.

  “The bastard’s dead,” Bill snarled. “Let him go. It’s you and me now. No one else. And I will never forgive you for making me kill him.”

  Her head throbbing, Kaylie fought to get back to her knees, only to be tossed back down as the plane bounced over a root. It lifted off, and she made it to the window, looking out as Bill flew over the crash.

  She caught sight of the plane, and her heart froze. It was engulfed in flames. No body visible near it. No sign that Cort had somehow managed a miracle and escaped.

  He was dead.

  Grief hit her hard, and she began to shake. A violent, vicious rattling that shook her to the core. Dear God, Cort. She couldn
’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, she was shaking so badly.

  “Shit, woman. Don’t die on me.”

  Bill tossed a blanket at her, and she ignored it as it hit her in the side of the head, silent tears streaming, pain so intense she couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even cry.

  “Fuck!” A second item hit her. “Look at that. You die, so does he. Get it together!”

  She caught sight of the photo of her brother, and her heart felt like a thousand knives had been stabbed through it. I can’t do it. She couldn’t fight anymore. Couldn’t survive anymore.

  Her legs gave out, and she fell to the floor of the plane. She curled into a ball, still shaking. Cort. Seeing her parents dead had been nothing like this. The agony…The grief…Like a part of her soul had been ripped out of her body and shredded.

  The plane bumped slightly, and the photo of her brother slid off the seat, landing next to her. Blindly, she stared at it. At Mason’s bruised face. His battered leg. The filthy gash across his stomach.

  Mason’s eyes were slitted open, barely staring at the camera. Empty. Hopeless.

  Just like she felt.

  She closed her eyes, unable to look at him anymore. Unable to take the pain. The suffering.

  The death.

  Groaning, she pulled herself into a tighter ball, rocking back and forth, just as she’d done the night they’d found Sara and Jackson. The night Cort had come to her. Held her. Made love to her.

  Made her whole.

  If Cort could see her now, he would take back all his words about her courage and her spirit.

  The thought stuck in her mind, repeating itself over and over, until finally, she opened her eyes. Looked at the picture of her brother again.

  She was the only thing standing between Mason and death.

  She and Mason were the only ones left.

  How many people had Cort seen die in plane crashes? His parents, and how many others over the years? And yet he was still flying. Still going. Because it was what made him alive, and he wasn’t going to let anything take it away from him.

  And he admired her?

  She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling of the plane. What if Cort was right that she was strong? What if he saw in her a truth that she was scared to face?

  She’d lost it all. Everything. Her family. Her world. The man she loved.

  Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back.

  Everything she’d spent her life fearing had actually happened.

  She’d run, she’d hidden, she’d cut herself off. Done everything possible to hide from the pain, from the loss, and all her nightmares had still come true.

  What had she sacrificed herself for all these years? So she could let herself die in the belly of a plane with a madman?

  Which was stupider? Dying on a mountainside when she was sixteen, or dying now because she’d let fear strip her of the ability to live, to fight, to survive?

  At least when she was sixteen, she’d had hopes and dreams. She’d wanted to live because she’d had things she wanted to do.

  Now…God, what did she have to live for? Jeweled shoes and an apartment with a good heating system?

  After spending the last few days with Cort, after immersing herself in a land where people lived hard and lived with passion, Kaylie realized she’d been more alive than she had been in the last ten years.

  Because of Cort.

  Because he’d brought her to life again.

  A few days was all she’d had with him. Only two times had they made love. It could have been so much more. So intense. But she’d pushed him away, too scared of what might happen. And now she had no chance for it again.

  It was the same mistake she’d made with her family. She’d turned around and done the same thing again with Cort. Not learning her lesson.

  Refusing to live for fear of death.

  And still she’d ended up losing it all.

  Kaylie thought of Cort’s words, that bush pilots who expect to die do just that. Had she instilled in him an expectation of death with all her talk? Had she cracked that tough veneer and made him human enough that he finally lost his impenetrability? She’d worked so hard to bring him down to her level, to make him admit he wasn’t as tough as he believed he was.

  She got what she’d asked for, in spades.

  And now…

  The plane bumped again, and she heard pellets of rain hitting the windshield. The wind was beginning to pick up.

  What did she want?

  To hide?

  Kaylie rolled onto her side and looked at the picture of her brother again.

  No.

  No more hiding.

  No more fear.

  She felt the protective shield around her begin to crack, exposing her. The air felt colder, clearer, expanding her lungs as she took in a deep breath that brought the fresh air through her entire body. She smiled, imagined Cort looking at her and nodding, his face crinkled with approval as she stepped out of the skin she’d worn for the last twelve years.

  As she became herself.

  Rolling to her side, she sat up, picked up the photo of her brother. “I’m coming for you, Mason,” she whispered. “Today, I’m taking control.”

  The plane bucked again, and she pressed the photo over her heart.

  She closed her eyes and thought of Cort.

  Of the man he’d been.

  This time, she didn’t stop the tears.

  She cried for him, for what she’d lost, for the light the world had lost when his plane had crashed. She cried for the years she’d thrown away, for the family she’d shut out, for the fear that had ruled her for long. She just let it all go, let it wash through her and over her. Then she embraced it and let it settle in her heart.

  The fear…She finally released it.

  And by the time the plane landed, her eyes were dry, her breathing was steady, and she was ready.

  Ready to die if she had to, but she was going to go down fighting.

  For her brother.

  For her family.

  For the man she loved.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The scent of burning metal jerked Cort back to consciousness.

  His eyes snapped open, and all he could see were flames consuming the plane. He could hear his mother’s screams as she was burned alive. He could see his dad’s mindless stare of death. He could feel the agony as the flames melted his jacket, his skin. For a split second, he was paralyzed by the memory, and then Kaylie’s face flashed in his mind.

  Kaylie!

  Cort yanked the harness off, fighting to free his legs from the wreckage as the flames grew hotter. He twisted to the side, swearing as the plane seemed to close in on him, the twisted metal like a vise around his left boot.

  He grabbed his knife, sliced through the leather, then yanked his foot free. Smoke was burning his nose. His flesh was on fire. His eyes stung as he crawled across the seat to the tiny hole that used to be the windshield. Shit. Too small.

  The flames were hotter, and his seat caught fire. Swirling black smoke.

  Cort shoved his shoulders though the gap, then his chest, braced himself with his arms, and hauled himself through. He landed with a jarring thud on the blackened earth. His pants caught fire. He beat the flames out with his fists, pounding frantically. And then it wasn’t his own legs. It was his mother. Her body. On fire.

  Screaming. Trapped. He couldn’t help. Couldn’t get her free. On fire. Leaving her behind. To die.

  So he could save himself.

  “No!” His shout of denial broke through his haze, and he was suddenly back in the present. Beating at his own legs. No more flames. Just singed pants.

  Slowly, he sat up, blinking as the rain beat down at him, battling the flames for victory.

  Trying to catch his breath.

  The plane…It was the same as before.

  No. Not the same.

  He forced himself to look at the plane. To see there was no one there.
Not his mom. Not his dad. Not a fourteen-yearold screaming and crying while his back burned up.

  Instead, Cort looked up at the cliff. At the last place he’d seen Kaylie.

  And now she was gone.

  Because he’d fucked up. He hadn’t checked the oil. Meticulous to a fault for the last seventeen years. One mistake, and it would cost Kaylie her life.

  His body went cold, and a vise clamped down around his chest. No.

  “No!” A scream ripped out of his throat and he broke into a dead run. He hauled ass toward the hill that led back up to his cabin. His body was screaming with pain, and he didn’t care. Didn’t take time to figure out what he’d broken or how badly he was burned.

  Just had to get up there.

  Call Luke.

  Get a ride.

  Find Bill before the fucker disappeared into the bush forever with the woman Cort loved.

  By the time Bill landed the plane, the wind was brutal, rain battering the small plane.

  Kaylie had buckled herself into one of the rear seats, despite threats by Bill that she’d better come up front with him.

  Fighting the plane made it impossible for him to come after her, so she’d taken the space for herself. She knew from his rising fury that she would pay for it, but she didn’t care. She was taking control now.

  The plane touched down, tilting sideways, and then there was the screech of metal and the tail of the plane went up. She braced herself, and the plane flipped over, tail over nose, landing with a shattering crush.

  It skidded a few more feet, twisting metal screaming, and then it was still.

  There were grinding protests from the plane, and rain gushed through the shattered windshield.

  Kaylie unsnapped her belt and fell on her shoulders while Bill tried to untangle himself. She climbed past him, diving for the passenger door.

  He caught her ankle, and she kicked him, shoving her heel into his face. Blood poured out of his nose, and his grip loosened enough for her to yank her leg free. She scrambled out the side door and ran.

  It was pitch-black, raining hard. Rocks everywhere. Trees. Somewhere out here was Mason. She had to find him before Bill caught her.

  Kaylie heard Bill’s roar of rage and the sound of his feet hitting the ground as he ran after her.

  Scrambling over the wet rocks, she pushed harder, visibility nearly zero with the storm. Her injured leg was screaming, and she fell as she hit another rock. She could hear Bill close behind her. She’d never outrun him.