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

by Adele Huxley

  Before I had time to question what in the ever-living-fuck she was talking about, she slammed me back, cracking my skull against the hard floor. The world went dark, a rapidly closing tunnel of darkness blotting out her face.

  A crash from the kitchen woke me. I’d incorporated the sound into my dream, a brief vision of my reflection in a shattering mirror. I sat up slowly, waiting for any other noises.

  A cupboard slammed shut. A male voice coughed, sputtered. The feet of one of the stools clattered against the floor as it was dragged from the edge of the island.

  I wasn’t alarmed so much as curious as who could be in the house. In all the weeks we’d stayed there, all the cooks and cleaners had been invisible. To hear anyone but Liz inside was odd. I pulled a shirt over my head, threw on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, and walked barefoot down the hall.

  I immediately spotted Josh slumped over in the seat, his head resting on his forearm. For all the world, he looked like he was passed out drunk. I glanced at the time and saw it was barely after 7 a.m. I suppose he could’ve had a hard night, but what is he doing here?

  There was a jug of fresh orange juice set out on the counter, along with an assortment of muffins and breakfast bars. Josh had already helped himself to a glass of OJ, the pulp stuck to the inside of the empty glass. He’d been half way through a chocolate chip muffin when he fell asleep sitting up.

  “Hey man, you all right?” I called as I walked further into the room. He very lightly stirred, but didn’t respond. Shaking him a little by the shoulder, I called out his name.

  Josh’s eyelids opened, his eyes half rolled into the back of his head. When he spoke, his speech slurred like he’d chased a fifth of vodka with a six pack. “Heya mate.”

  “Long night? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked with half a laugh.

  “Yeah. No. I… where’s Liz? I need to talk to her about something…”

  I shook my head and let him fall back to the island. “Yeah, she’s a little busy today, funny enough.” Dude is messed up…

  I had about an hour before I needed to be at the mountain. I wanted to be front and center of the crowd, the first face Liz saw as she finished. As I poured myself a glass of orange juice and leaned against the counter, I couldn’t contain the bubble of excitement in my stomach. Her first race!

  “She’s busy?” Josh slurred.

  I looked at him more closely. His clothes were clean and unwrinkled. His hair was swept back and combed through with product. He even looked freshly shaved. On closer inspection, the whole thing, his entire behavior, struck me as incredibly odd.

  “What did you get up to last night?” I asked, knocking back the rest of the juice.

  Josh giggled and nearly fell out of the chair as he gestured wildly. “Man, it was so crazy. There’s this backpacker bar… and I, the girls were…” He dissolved into laughter again before his mood shifted dramatically. “I didn’t go out last night. I went to bed early ‘cause of the race and…” He focused on me, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Where the fuck am I?”

  “Whoa man, all right. I think we might need to get you some coffee. You had one hell of a bender last night,” I said giving him a slap on the shoulder. I pushed away my worries, chalking it up to my overall paranoia from the previous few weeks.

  I grabbed a cranberry and oatmeal muffin from the tray, and took a big bite as I turned towards the coffee maker. We chatted while I prepped the machine, mostly me talking about Liz and how stoked I was for her big day. Josh was largely unresponsive, a few grunts here and there, but at least he stayed mostly awake.

  It wasn’t until I moved to set down the cup of coffee in front of him that I started to feel strange. The room seemed to swing around a half second behind my movements. I shook my head to clear it, steadying myself on the back of a chair.

  “Whoa, I guess I need to eat something a little more substantial,” I muttered to myself. “Must have low blood sugar or something.”

  Taking a deep breath, I tried to walk to the fridge and stumbled along the way. Maybe my leg is weak from the PT yesterday, I thought. But somewhere in the back of my mind, alarm bells were starting to go off. For some reason, I had a singular idea that if I ate something, I’d feel better.

  I grabbed the carton of eggs and tried to place it on the counter, but my vision was so blurry I only made it half way. Nearly a dozen eggs shattered on the kitchen floor, and all Josh could do was point and laugh. That’s when I started to grow really concerned.

  Am I having a stroke or something? What the hell is going on? Christ, the room just needs to stop spinning long enough for me to get control…

  I spotted the cordless phone on the counter and pulled myself along towards it. Nearly dropping it several times, I managed to turn it on and dial the first nine before a hand plucked it away.

  “Uh-oh, Bry. Can’t have you doing that,” a feminine voice cooed.

  I looked up and tried to focus on the face in front of me, blinking several times to clear my vision. Despite the growing fog in my brain, I recognized her instantly. “Angie,” I said flatly.

  “That’s right, lover,” she replied as she stepped closer. She grinned with bright red lips, her dark hair flowing in waves down her shoulders. It was like a horrible nightmare come to life.

  “Liz isn’t here. You can’t touch her,” I said defiantly.

  “I know she isn’t here. I’m glad,” She pinned me against the counter, pressing her body against me. I groaned as my head swam. I focused on my feet, trying to stop the room from shifting beneath me like I was on a boat at sea. “Aw, are you not feeling well? Perhaps it was something you ate?”

  “The muffins?” I asked in horror. “What sicko poisons muffins?” Already, my speech was beginning slur like Josh’s.

  Angie shrugged indifferently. “Or maybe something you drank?” She stood on her toes and kissed me softly. Her lips tasted like vanilla. I was slow to pull away, my reaction time reduced greatly. “You’ve always been so shy,” she giggled, wiping the lipstick from my mouth with her thumb.

  “What are you doing? Why are you doing all this?” I protested. She continued on as if I hadn’t spoken, her eyes flashing with fresh anger.

  “But you certainly weren’t shy with that little slut the other day,” she hissed. “All that flirting, and the shameless way you let her come onto you!”

  “She’s my fiancée,” I slurred, barely getting the word out.

  “Not. Her.” I blinked, trying to focus on her crystal blue eyes, devoid of all emotion.

  And it clicked together. That sound I’d heard in the hallway when Paige had kissed me. Angie had chased her away, wrecked the room, done God knows what. “Did you… kill her?”

  Angie laughed sweetly and pulled away. Without her support, I crumpled to the ground, catching myself in a partial crouch. My knee and hip screamed in protest at the sudden movement, but there was little I could do to recover.

  “Oh shit! It’s you. They’ve been looking for you,” Josh yelled, finally coming to long enough to recognize who had entered the room.

  “And I bet you’re the one who told them all about me, huh?” Her voice balanced a thin line between threatening and playful.

  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 eve
r 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.”