by Skye Jordan
Ian dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “Baby, you feel…so good.”
Emotions swamped her. Too many and too mixed to sort anything out. She held him tight and rode his every thrust, pushing off the shower wall to meet him.
Her orgasm rose in a sharp wave of pleasure and crashed with a fury that tensed every exhausted muscle in her body. Ian’s growl of approval shivered through her, followed by his own climax, so intense, it stole Savannah’s breath.
His body relaxed, leaning into hers and pressing her against the shower wall while their breathing returned to normal. He lifted his head from her shoulder, his eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, and Savannah kissed him with all the affection and gratitude and love spiraling through her chest. He returned her kiss with a tenderness and reverence and sweetness that filled every hole in her heart.
He eased from her body and set her on her feet. When she turned toward the spray, rinsing one more time, Ian wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “We’ll have to sleep in shifts.”
“Why?”
“We may both have concussions. One of us needs to stay awake to prod the other every half hour or so.”
“I’ll take the first shift.” She turned off the water and pulled a towel from the shower enclosure, handing it to Ian before she pulled her own down. “I won’t be able to sleep worrying about Jamison anyway.”
Everly set a deliberate path through the snow with Roman on one side of her, Liam on the other. Flakes continued to fall, erasing any sign of footsteps Ian and Savannah might have left.
Snowshoes kept them on top of the powder as they picked up the search the rescue team had abandoned after dark. But unlike the search party, instead of looking for signs of death, they were looking for signs of life. Signs that Ian and Savannah had escaped the avalanche or were still alive beneath the snow.
With half the area already scoured by the search effort, they only needed to cover the other half. Everly was sick over this. And the more ground they covered without any sign of Ian and Savannah, the heavier the rock in the pit of her stomach became.
Because cops had been stationed around the avalanche site, the team couldn’t use flashlights to search the snow’s surface. They’d donned their night vision to get an enhanced look at the snow surface to spot irregularities. But for the last hour, all they saw were miles of pristine snow cover.
Everly’s phone vibrated in her pocket, shocking her to a stop.
“What?” Roman asked, looking back at her over his shoulder.
“My phone.” She pulled it out and looked at the screen. “It’s Sam. We have signal.”
Roman ripped his phone from his pocket, and Everly answered Sam’s FaceTime video while she looked over Roman’s shoulder at the GPS app. “Hold on,” she told Sam.
When Ian’s signal didn’t light up the screen, Everly’s hope extinguished. “Useless. You should get your money back on that app.”
“That app found you when you wandered off course in Mogadishu,” Roman told her.
“I didn’t wander off course. It’s called wind. Wind catches parachutes. It’s not like the damn things have handlebars.”
Sam piped up. “How come that wind didn’t catch everyone else’s parachutes?”
She glared at him over FaceTime. “Because you’re all twice my size, so I’m easier to blow around. It’s called physics.”
On the screen behind Sam, Jamison climbed onto a bed and started jumping, singing another nonsensical kid’s song.
“Oh my God,” Sam looked over his shoulder. “Not again.”
“What the hell, Sam?” She would have yelled if sound didn’t travel so far in the open.
“Help,” he said. “How do I get him to sleep?”
“Try not feeding him sugar,” Liam offered.
“Too late,” Sam replied.
“I figured,” Liam said with a smirk.
“Dammit, Sam, handle it. I promised Savannah I’d keep him safe.”
His brows shot up, and a truly shocked, confused look broke out over his face. “You?”
“Shut up. I may be the least parental of this group, but I know enough not to let a five-year-old jump on the bed. I swear to God, if you break him, you buy him.”
“Any sign of Ian and Savannah?” Sam asked.
“No,” Everly said, “which makes keeping that kid safe all the more important. I will pluck your short hairs out by the root if he hurts himself.”
“Harsh,” Sam said. “You’re so bitchy when you’re worried.”
Everly growled and hung up on him. “For all his brilliance, I swear…”
“He’s right,” Roman said. “You do get bitchy when you’re stressed.”
“The fact that we have cell service but no GPS location is something to be stressed about.” Everly started walking again, headed toward some ruffled snow that would most likely turn out to be an animal’s dinner spot. “I should never have brought Ian on board. Should have told him to take that bodyguard job so his brain could turn to mush.”
“He’s a big boy,” Roman said. “He can make his own decisions. And he’s been in situations way worse than this and survived.”
“You’d better not ream him for sleeping with Savannah if we find them alive,” she told Roman. “You live in a glass house, buddy.”
“Excuse me?”
His irritated tone only added fuel to Everly’s frustration. She stopped hiking, flipped her night vision up, and pinned Roman with a look. “Gianna?”
He hesitated a split second too long, and Everly knew the rumor was true.
He lifted his own night vision. “What about Gianna?”
“Like I said, glass houses.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “And you’d better not spread rumors—”
She laughed. “No need. Everyone already knows.”
Everly looked at Liam, and Roman cut a glance at the other man.
Liam shrugged. “I didn’t hear any rumor, but I figured…”
“Why?” Roman demanded. “Why would anyone figure something like that?”
“Because the attraction between you two is palpable.” Everly flipped her night vision down and continued toward the disturbed snow. “Don’t punish Ian for doing something you’re too chicken to go for.”
“You’re fired.” Roman pulled his night vision into place and continued searching the snow with an irritated “As soon as we find them.”
“Right. Like the last twenty times you’ve fired me.” Everly neared the uneven patch of snow that turned out to be more of a depression. Her intuition pulsed, shooting tingles down her neck. She picked up her pace. “Got something here.”
It was a hole in the snow. A big hole. Way too big for any of the small animals in the area to make. She tipped the night vision out of the way and shone a flashlight down the hole. The sight of black metal made her heart skip. Her spirits soared.
“This is it. They dug out.” Everly was breathless with relief. If Ian had gotten Savannah out of this, he surely would have found shelter, even if he had to build a damn igloo.
She turned off the light and unsnapped her snowshoes, then she shuffled down the hole. Scanning the interior, she could see signs of what had occurred. “They’re hurt—there’s blood on the seats and windows. They found supplies in the back. They took blankets, flashlights, and weapons.”
Though there was no sign of where they might have headed.
By the time Everly made her way to the surface again, Roman had already pinpointed the closest campground, one that also had cabins. “Let’s go.”
18
Ian pressed another kiss to Savannah’s soft hair. Before Savannah, it had been forever since he’d shared a bed with a woman—at least once the sex was over. And he had to be honest, it felt amazing to have Savannah sleeping in his arms, even if it was fully clothed. It was way too cold to sleep naked with no auxiliary heat source.
He had no way of telling time, b
ut he’d guess it was around two a.m. They still had a lot of night left, and it was obvious the GPS on his watch was shot. As soon as dawn hinted through the window, they’d have to get on the move again. It had been snowing nonstop through the evening and into the night. He doubted there had been any trace of what direction they’d gone by the time the team had found their location. Which meant Ian was going to have to get Savannah out of this on his own.
Savannah had said there was a tiny town about twenty miles up the road. The thought of dodging cops for another twenty miles in this weather, with this knee, was bad enough. The thought of dragging Savannah along, risking her health and safety, made his gut knot. If he knew she’d be safe in the cabin, he’d leave her there, but once the cops found their escape tunnel, every location with any kind of shelter would be raided.
He tossed around more ideas, but none had a positive risk ratio. There should be at least one forest service building between here and the town. It would have landlines. Maybe they wouldn’t have to go the whole twenty miles. But could he risk it? She didn’t have the muscle mass he did to generate warmth—
Light flashed through a window, and every cell in Ian’s body came alert. His fingers curled around the grip of his Glock where it lay on his stomach. He eased away from Savannah, sat up, and pushed his feet into his boots. The cold stole his breath.
He moved to the window that looked toward the road leading to the cabins. Headlights came at them. An SUV. Jeep by the look of it. The problem was that both Everly’s SUV and the deputies’ cruisers were Jeeps.
“What wrong?” Savannah’s sleepy voice tightened the knot in his gut.
“Someone’s coming. Get into your jacket and boots.”
She was beside him in a moment, bundled for the weather. “Who is it?”
“Can’t tell yet.” He had a couple of loose plans if the car turned out to be the cops and not his team, but again, none were great.
As soon as he saw an identical set of headlights behind the first, he knew. “Cops.”
She pulled in a sharp breath. “Wh-what do we do?”
Options snapped through his mind in seconds. Run in five-degree weather and waist-deep snow got the axe first. Which meant he had to prepare for close-quarters combat.
Savannah moved to another window and peeked out. “It’s Hank,” she whispered just as he stood from the lead vehicle. “How did he find us?”
“The same way we found this place. Who’s with him?”
“Lyle for sure, in the passenger’s seat. I can’t see the car behind them.”
Urgency pushed him into action. He grabbed the Glock from the nightstand on Savannah’s side of the bed and pushed the grip into her hand, then looked out the window again. The two other cops joined Hank beside the first car, their faces illuminated in the headlights’ glow: Corwin and Rosen.
Lyle stood from the passenger’s side, his hand clutching a rifle.
“Stay in the car, Dad,” Hank told Lyle with some force.
But Lyle didn’t listen. He rounded the front of the cruiser. “This is as much my fight as it is yours.”
“Rosen, you stay put. No one gets past you, got it?” Hank pointed at Lyle and added, “Including him.”
“Corwin, you’re with me.” They moved to the first cabin on the left and kicked in the door, clearing it with a by-the-book procedure. Rosen acted like a blockade to Lyle, who didn’t like being told to stand down.
“Rosen helped us before,” she said. “Wouldn’t he do it again?”
“As much as he can when there are three others who’d put a bullet in his head for looking at them wrong. He doesn’t even know we’re here.”
Ian turned Savannah to face him. He squeezed her arms and looked her in the eye. “You need to do exactly what I tell you, okay?” He opened the closet just around the corner from the front door and backed her into the tiny space, easing her to the floor. “Stay here and stay quiet. If someone opens this door, be prepared to shoot. Just don’t shoot me.”
Terror filled her eyes. “What are you—?”
Footsteps neared their cabin. Ian lifted a finger to his lips and closed the closet door. He pressed his back to the wall just around the corner from the entry. If they maintained their current method, Corwin would kick the door in and enter first, followed by Hank. Fucking lazy coward.
Their boots crunched on the snow outside the door.
Hank said, “Go,” and Corwin put a boot to the door. The lock snapped, and the door flung open.
The front door hit the wall between the closet and the entry. The boom-rattle shocked Savannah’s heart, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep the fear inside.
“Police!” Corwin yelled.
Silence followed. Savannah held her breath. The quiet stretched and thickened until Savannah thought she’d be sick with stress. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t just sit in the corner and do nothing. It wasn’t who she was.
She rose to her feet, careful to remain silent, and eased the door open just enough to slip through. Ian had his back to her, his weapon down by his thigh. In the light drifting in through the windows, Savannah saw someone easing into the space, weapon first.
Ian remained intensely still for several long heartbeats. Then he pushed his gun into his waistband and went still again. Once Corwin’s elbow cleared the corner of the wall, Ian twisted Corwin’s wrist with brutal efficiency. His moves were swift, sharp, and violent. The snap of bone shivered down Savannah’s spine and flipped her stomach. Corwin’s cry blended with the thunk of his gun hitting the floor. Ian hauled Corwin forward and right into a hard chop to the throat.
Corwin garbled a scream and crumpled to the floor.
Savannah grimaced and looked away. Her stomach pitched.
Ian pressed his back to the wall again and looked at her, not at all surprised to see her. “I told you to stay in there.”
“Corwin!” Hank yelled. “Corwin!”
“I’m going to let that attitude slide,” Savannah told him, “because you’re clearly under a lot of stress.
“Corwin,” Hank yelled.
“He can’t talk right now,” Ian told Hank. “He’s drowning in his own blood. How about it, Hank? Want to give it a try?”
“Rosen,” Hank called. “Get over here.”
Corwin gasped for air, gurgling in an attempt to speak. Savannah tried to think about all he’d done, day in and day out to make her life utterly miserable for no other reason than that he could. But her gut still rolled as she watched Corwin writhe in pain, effectively dying before her eyes.
This was what Ian was capable of, up close and personal.
“No one can help you now,” he told Hank. “Your own father is the one who pulled you into this mess.”
“Shut up, you piece of trash,” Lyle yelled from a distance.
“More cops are on the way, Heller,” Hank said. “You’re not getting out of this.”
“Says you.”
“Rosen,” Hank yelled. “Get the fuck over here.” To Ian, he said, “This isn’t your fight. Send Savannah out, and I’ll let you go.”
“Come on in,” Ian said, his voice eerily congenial, as if this situation didn’t stress him in the least. “Let’s talk about it.”
“Lyle,” Rosen yelled. “Put that down, or I’ll shoot you.”
Savannah’s gut cranked tighter. A gleam pulled her eyes toward the window on her left.
Rosen’s next command started with “I won’t tell you again—”
Savannah focused on the movement and found Lyle’s rifle aimed right at them through the window. She didn’t think, just reacted, raising the Glock and pulling the trigger. The dirty glass shattered, but she didn’t hear it. She felt her finger squeezing the trigger, again and again, but only the rush of blood in her ears registered.
Lyle went down, and Ian put a hand over hers on the grip of the weapon. She turned her head, saw the fear in his eyes, saw his lips moving with words, but couldn’t hear anything.
She was cold. So cold. From the inside out, she felt like ice.
More yelling echoed in her head, like voices in a canyon. Hank charged the cabin, and Ian pivoted away from her, returning fire.
In slow motion, Savannah saw Hank fall off-balance, saw red burst from somewhere in the area of his head or neck. The sheetrock to her right exploded. Savannah cringed and turned away. She opened her eyes just as Hank fell into a heap on top of Corwin and go still.
Her gaze jumped back to Ian, scanned his body, terrified he’d been hit. He turned toward her, his eyes sharp and free of pain. But he was splattered in blood. Not the kind from a bullet wound, but the speckling of blowback, across his face, his shirt. Hank’s blood.
Ian came toward her. He was speaking, but she couldn’t understand anything. Her face turned icy. Her limbs went cold. And she started to shake. A bone-deep tremor of terror and sickness and relief. With her back pressed against the wall, she slid away from him, pushing herself into the corner. Ian pulled back, worry etching his features, and crouched to her level. He continued talking to her, but Savannah couldn’t process anything. She curled into a terrified, sickened ball, dropped her head to her knees.
She focused on her breathing. One in, one out. One in, one out. One in, one out.
Her hearing returned slowly but still sounded as if she were inside a tin can. Rosen asking if Savannah was okay. Ian asking Rosen to call Roman. Then quiet.
“I’m just going to take the gun.” Ian’s voice was quiet and steady, morphing from tinny to a normal tone. His hand closed over hers, and she released the weapon. Then he sat on the floor next to her and wrapped her in his arms. Savannah curled into him, burying her face against his neck. “It’s over, baby.” He held her tight. “It’s over now.”
She couldn’t move. Her muscles were rigid. Her mind frozen. Three people were dead all around her.
