by Karin Tabke
Struggling with the snowdrift bound door, she got it open enough so that she could dig through the snow to the mound. Sure enough, it was firewood. She made several trips back to it until she had a sizable pile in the great room. After locking up, she stoked the fire so that it blazed, throwing more logs on it until the flames cast a warm glow over the room. After settling the fire screen in place, she went in search of the bathroom. Finding it off the great room, she didn’t bother nosing around. She wanted to get comfortable. So she did what she had to do, then grabbed her overnight bag and took it upstairs along with her flashlight. It was a toss-up whether she should conserve the firewood she had brought in and just sleep downstairs, but… She shivered. She’d feel safer somehow on higher ground. Not that marauders would be out in this terrible weather. Hell, she doubted any living creature would venture out. The snow was piling up as the wind began to howl.
Emotion tugged at her bravado. She was afraid of being up here in the Sierras in the middle of a blizzard all by herself. She wanted her husband with her. She wanted his strong arms around her, the feel of his hard warmth pressed to her.
As she made her way down the stairs, a loud crash from the front of the cabin startled her. She gripped the flashlight like a weapon and moved to the small window along the door and gasped. There on the front porch was a piece of firewood, as if someone had thrown it at the door.
She turned off the flashlight and backed away as an uneasy dread infiltrated her. Her cellphone chirped that she had a text message.
Did she have service? She grabbed it out of her purse where she had left it on the hearth and nearly cried in relief. It was Simon: Are you Okay? Did you get my message?
Instead of texting him, she tried to call him but the call timed out. Panic exploded. Quickly she texted: Simon, I’m afraid. Stevie isn’t here and I think someone is outside and the Jeep is stuck in the snow.
His response was immediate: Lock the doors, take as many weapons from the wall in the great room as you can, go upstairs, and stay upstairs, but not in the loft, stay at the top of the stairway. DO NOT leave that post. Stay at the top of the fatal alley, don’t give it up. And stay calm, Princess.
Another loud thud on the porch startled her. She screamed. Hastily she grabbed the bow, the ax, several of the knives, the two quivers of arrows, and hauled ass upstairs.
Simon. She could barely text, her hands were shaking so badly. Is it Evan?
I think so. Stay calm, baby. I’m coming.
As she read the text, another thud against the door startled her.
Desperation born of fear for his wife’s safety forced Simon’s hand. He was two hours away from the only thing that mattered to him. The local PDs and CHP were bogged down with traffic issues and the collapse of a strip mall roof with several people trapped inside. Even Stevie’s hands were tied. There was no one to reach out to. Except the one person Simon knew walked both sides of the law, and had the resources and the men to help him.
He made a call he’d hoped he’d never have to make. Because once he did, he would owe. It didn’t matter though, because there was nothing Simon wouldn’t do to protect the woman he loved.
As he dialed the number, he prayed he was not too late.
“How’d you get this number?” a rough voice asked.
“I need to speak to Brick. Now.”
“How’d you get this number?”
“He gave it to me.”
“Who the fuck is me?”
“Sergeant Simon West. Third three-two-five Alpha Company under the command of Captain Brickland.”
“Call back in five.”
“I don’t fucking have five. My wife is in grave danger. I need to speak to the captain now!”
The sound of a hand being placed over the phone was followed by muffled voices.
“West?” his army captain’s voice said.
“I need your help, sir.”
“Talk to me.”
Simon explained the situation.
Tense, arms shaking, arrow nocked, Kat kept her eyes on the front door. The last barrage was a half hour ago. But with each thud, the door had shaken a little more. She debated whether to vacate her perch at the top of the stairway and push some of the heavy furniture against the door, but realized it wouldn’t matter—he’d come through the kitchen door. So, she waited.
As she waited for Simon, Kat watched her cell phone’s battery life drain away. The charger was useless with no power.
The glass of the long window parallel to the front door shattered, startling Kat. “Where is your cop now, Katy?” Evan called from the other side.
She gasped as ice-cold fear gripped her. This time there was no Simon to pull him off her.
“I know where he is,” Evan snickered. His voice was much closer and more sinister with no glass between them. She could see his shadow but not his face. At least this way she knew where he was, and she was ready for him if he breached the door. “He’s chasing a cab with a fake Santa in it, thinking it’s me!” His snickers turned into full-blown laughter. “Oh, Katy, Katy, Katy, he was so easy to fool.”
“What did you do, Evan?”
“Well, first I made a deal with the prosecutor, Katy, just so I could see you again. All because I missed you.”
“Liar.”
“No, really, I did. I missed seeing the fear in your eyes as I slowly tightened my hands around your neck.” He laughed again. “I missed it so much I promised the prosecutor I’d testify against everyone if he just let me go.”
“Why do you want to kill me, Evan? What did I ever do to you?”
“You ruined everything. My entire life, you ruined it! You and that fucking cop. I had the world by the balls, Katy, and you took it away.”
“I didn’t ruin your life, Evan, you did. Your greed and your ego did you in, not me and not Simon.”
“Captain West. Every woman’s wet dream,” Evan sneered. “He was so predictable, Katy. All I had to ask myself was what would big bad macho cop want more than anything? Ah, he would want to destroy the man who threatened his woman. So, I let him think he was following me! I grabbed a fake Santa off your neighbor’s front yard, hailed a cab, called in a favor to have the monitor removed, taped it around Santa’s booted foot, and then paid that greedy cabby two grand to drive over the Golden Gate and out of the city. I knew lover boy would go after the cab thinking he could arrest me for violating my conditions. What he didn’t count on was me watching you and following you.”
“Why did you do that to my bedroom?” she asked, trying to stall him as he pulled large chunks of glass from the window frame. If he thought he was coming through that window to get her, he was so very wrong.
“To scare you. To let you know I could get to you,” he boasted. “I could not have planned your demise more perfectly, Katy. Here we are, just you and me, in a remote cabin, in a remote canyon, in the middle of a blizzard. No power, no cell service, and no one to ride in and save you.”
Kat shivered violently. She was starring in a Hitchcock movie. “Simon’s on his way. And this time, Evan, there won’t be anyone to pull him off you.”
“Unless he’s a bird, he’s not getting in here. I broke into a house two miles down the road and borrowed their chainsaw. Then I cut down enough trees at the bottom of the road to keep an army out.”
Kat bit back a cry. It was her against him. Her thoughts went to her unborn child. To the precious little being who had only her to protect him from harm. Momma bear reared her ferocious head in Kat’s heart. And with it, she knew there was nothing she would not do to protect that innocent life. Nothing
When Evan couldn’t get his hand far enough through the window to unlock the door from the inside, he kicked it several times before it started to give at the dead bolt.
“I’ve been planning this for months,” he said as his hands clamped on the edge o
f the door and began to work it as he continued to kick. “I went to your apartment this morning, Katy, hoping to find you there, but you were gone. I could tell you hadn’t been there for a long time. I couldn’t understand why until it dawned on me—you were still fucking that cop, and at his place, weren’t you?”
“He’s my husband now. I’m pregnant with his baby, Evan. Hurt me and there will be no rock on earth you can slither and hide under.”
“Well, well, well,” he said, then shoved the door hard enough to break the lock. His hands gripped the edges and he slowly peered around it. When he saw her armed with the bow and aiming an arrow at him, he laughed. “I doubt you know how to use that.”
Pulling the arrow back to a full draw she said, “I was All State in archery, Evan. Take another step and find out for yourself how good I was.”
Boldly, Evan stepped into the room. She released. It wasn’t a field point competition head flying straight at her ex but a razor sharp broadhead. Deadly enough to bring down a bear. It caught him in the shoulder. He screamed angrily while grabbing at the arrow, but moved behind the door, using it as a shield. She was losing her touch; she’d meant to hit him in the eye.
In a smooth practiced motion, she reached back to the quiver she had slung over her shoulder and withdrew another deadly arrow. She nocked it, drew and aimed at the door way.
“Bitch,” he snarled.
The snap of the carbon shaft followed by his hiss of pain told her he’d broken it to pull it through. When both halves landed on the threshold floor, she knew he had. It’s what she would have done to prevent further injury.
“Come on out again and I’ll give you a matching hole for the other shoulder,” she taunted. It was him or her, and she was going to live. To protect herself and her baby, she’d kill him if she had to.
A long tense silence followed. The dull thud of his footsteps as he walked down the front porch steps alerted her to his motive. He was going around to the back of the house. She saw his silhouette under the full moon as it reflected off the snow. It was almost as bright as daylight. He was going to attempt access via the kitchen door.
Tensing, she fought the urge to glide down the stairway and ambush him. Instead, she did what Simon told her to do. Protect the fatal alley. She stayed upstairs. And waited.
Before long, Evan kicked in the kitchen door, and came barreling around the corner wall, throwing chunks of firewood at her. Kat stood, willing to take the hits as she waited for him to get to the bottom of the stairway. Then she let loose. Her arrow hit him in the same shoulder as the first one. He screeched like an animal, but kept coming. She nocked and drew another arrow as he rushed up the stairway. She let it fly. He screeched again, faltering in his step. Another shoulder hit. She backed up, nocking another arrow. Then drew. And released.
Furious sounds filled the tense air when the arrow struck him in the thigh. Her tormentor slid back down the stairway. Kat stood tall. Despite not having picked a bow up in years and only competition shooting, she was confident in her skill. Drawing another arrow from the quiver, her vision narrowed as she nocked it, then aimed at his heart. If she let go, she’d kill him.
And kill him she would.
Just as she released, Evan turned and stumbled out the front door. The arrow struck the wooden jamb where he had just stood before.
A loud thud as if he had hit the support beam reverberated in the dense air, followed by a thrashing sound as if he were fighting against a greater force. Kat moved up the stairway to the loft railing and leaned over, trying to see Evan through the broken window.
Contorted shadows played weird games against the glare of the snow. She was sure Evan was on the porch, but—his muffled voice was overrun by the hard thud of his feet kicking something. It abruptly stopped, followed by a gurgling sound. Then there was a heavy silence. Kat shivered violently. Something—had got him. Long minutes passed before a large dark shadow moved across the window, blocking the light reflected off the snow.
She didn’t dare move. Whatever was out there had gotten Evan. Would it come for her next? Remembering Simon’s instructions, she went back to the top of the fatal alley, leaned forward, drew another arrow, nocked it, and listened.
Long silent minutes passed. She swore she heard the crunch of snow under heavy footsteps moments later.
She didn’t move.
For what seemed like hours, she sat rigidly perched at the top of the stairway, posed and ready to release the arrow on the next person or creature that came through the door.
She perked up when the distant buzz of a snowmobile broke the silent night. Her heart rate accelerated as it grew louder. Her heart nearly burst from her chest when it stopped at the end of the steep driveway, then buzzed up. Oh God. Who was it? What did they want?
Her cell phone, on its very last bar of battery life, chirped. That’s me coming up the driveway, Cinderella. You’re safe.
Simon!
Kat threw the bow down, tore off the quiver and ran down the stairs and through the crippled door into her husband’s arms as he rushed up the porch stairs. “Simon!” she cried as he wrapped her into his strong arms. “Simon!” she cried. Tears of joy, relief, and love spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop sobbing.
He smoothed her hair from her face and kissed her, holding her tightly to him. “I’m sorry, baby, I had no idea he was following you. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, I was just scared. Terrified. I hit him with four arrows, but none of them were kill shots. He might still be out here!”
“I’m not worried about him anymore.”
“Why not? Is he in custody?”
When he didn’t immediately answer, Kat twisted out of Simon’s arms and looked up at his impassive face, then down at the porch. There were several red blood drops leading from the front door to the edge of the porch, where there was a large pool of blood. The redwood slats at the edge of the porch rail were splintered, as if they had been violently kicked. Her brows knitted in confusion. When Evan had gone from the cabin to the porch, he had only superficial wounds. The scene before her spoke of a much more violent altercation.
“What happened? The arrow wounds wouldn’t cause that much concentrated blood loss.”
She looked past the bloodstains to see that there were several other sets of boot prints that led down the driveway. She looked up at Simon. “Did you…?”
Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t know what happened to him, I just got here.” Simon moved to his wife, taking her into his arms. “But by the looks of things, it seems like something or someone got a hold of him before I could.” He pulled her into the circle of his arms, then reached down to pick up a blood-soaked card lodged in between two cedar slats near the door. He read it. In bold print were the words: I’ll be in touch. B
Sliding it into his pocket, Simon let out a long sigh of relief. Scott was dead.
He owed Brick his wife’s life, and Simon had no doubt his marker would be called in. He would have no choice but to answer it. He kissed Kat’s head. He’d answer it one hundred times. Kat was his life. There was nothing, not even selling his soul to the devil that he would not do for her.
And sell his soul he had. To a devil named Brick.
Christmas morning
Kat woke to the luxurious feel of her husband’s long hard body pressed intimately to hers. Actually, she was sprawled across him like a lazy feline. His deep, even breaths told her he was still asleep. After the day and night from hell, he deserved it. She’d slept like a corpse.
Last night, once Simon had convinced her without giving much detail that Evan would no longer pose a problem to either of them, she managed to settle down. He carried her back into the cabin, drew her a hot bubble bath in the bathroom downstairs, undressed her, kissed her, and settled her down into the velvety warmth.
When she moved aside, inviting him to joi
n her, he leaned over her, pressed a kiss to the swell of her bosom, and softly but firmly said, “You wrecked my cabin. I have to fix it. Enjoy your bath.”
And she did. She enjoyed her bath as she listened to the sounds of him reinforcing the doors and window. She must have been half asleep by the time he finished, because the last thing she remembered was being lifted from the tub and tucked nice and dry into this big, comfortable bed.
Exhaling a long sigh, she rubbed her fingertips through the smattering of dark hair on his chest and listened to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace. Morning sunlight filtered through the snow-covered skylight.
The steady heartbeat beneath her cheek lulled her back to her cozy thoughts. She could stay like this forever. From the moment she’d bumped into Captain West, she had begun to change. He called her Cinderella because she’d kept leaving a shoe behind, but she was Cinderella in the classic fairy-tale sense. Meeting him had been life-changing. Gone was the self-conscious, insecure lab rat. In her place was a well-loved, confident doctor who didn’t take crap from anyone.
Sighing as she pressed her lips to his pectoral, she couldn’t hold back a smile. Ah, Simon. Now he was her big bad wolf.
A strong arm slid around her waist, and the fingers attached to it traced languidly along her rib cage to the swell of her breast. Liquid fire blasted through her veins. Kat lifted up and smiled at her sleepy husband. “Merry Christmas, Simon.” As she pressed her lips to his, his arm tightened around her waist. Sliding her fingers into his thick hair, she moved up his chest, kissing him more deeply as her body quickened.
Simon responded in kind, his penis thickening against her hip as his kiss deepened.
Their shared passion was unquenchable. She hoped it would always be that way.
He rolled her over even as he broke the kiss. “Merry Christmas, Princess.” He entwined his fingers with hers and pinned her hands above her head. Her ravenous body trembled under his heated gaze.
