Trapped with the Blizzard (37 page)

The idea of Jack being caught in something similar with no contact made me want to scoop him up and never let him go. And to think, I was just getting over my separation issues. Seeing him in Richards’ arms made me want to reinsert him into my uterus for the next five to ten years… just in case.

“The moment we get communications back up, we’ll give her a call. Or a text. A tweet? Maybe a carrier pigeon,” I laughed. “Whatever the hell you young folk are using nowadays,” I said in an old lady voice.

With good nature, Dani shook her head as she shrugged the blanket from her shoulders. “You want a drink?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.”

The freshly stoked fire crackled and popped. Night was setting outside, the darkness encroaching so much faster without electricity to keep it away. I gazed at the tree and idly wondered how much power a few strands of twinkly lights could possibly use.
It’s still Christmas. Shouldn’t we try to capture a little bit of it while we can?

A cold gust of wind blew through the living room as the front door opened. I turned to scold Miah for coming in the front way and saw Dani frozen in place, a gun pointed at her from the open door.

“Chris,” I whispered. Instinctively, I stood, putting myself between him and the baby. Bryan stirred on the sofa as the cold air continued to whip through the already chilled house.

“Liz, I need another blanket,” he mumbled. I nudged his shoulder with my knee until he opened his eyes. “What the hell…” I nodded to the door without taking my gaze off the intruder. Bryan sat up and cursed under his breath.

“Well at least shut the goddamn door,” I commanded him. And much to my surprise, he jumped and followed my instructions. Bryan and I shared a look and probably the same thought.
Looks like we aren’t dealing with the strongest branch on the tree.
But a lack of intelligence only made him more dangerous and unpredictable.

Dani held her hands up defensively. Chris had the gun trained on her but was completely focused on Bryan and me. Looking at him now, I finally recognized the familiarity that had bothered me all along. In his cold features, his hawkish, narrow nose, I saw a shadow of his brother. My hatred for him only grew.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he mumbled petulantly.

“And so are you,” I bit back. He might’ve had the Richards last name, but he certainly didn’t have the personality.

“You killed my whole family!” he screamed as loudly as he could. Dani covered her ears and cowered back towards the stove. The stammering disappeared, his jittery jumpiness replaced by a resolute anger.

I was beyond the effects of adrenaline and shock. Maybe trying to kill my baby boy depleted the amount of fucks I had to give. Perhaps by walking into my house and threatening my family, he poked the momma bear. But either way, I wasn’t having any of it.

I took a step around the sofa and faced him square on. “I only killed them when they tried to kill me. I’m two for two. You sure you want to test your luck here, kiddo?”

“I’m the one with the gun!” He brandished it towards me like a nervous kid trying to rob a convenience store.

“Liz, what the hell are you…” Bryan hissed behind me.

I have a problem with knowing when to keep my mouth shut. I readily admit that. When I see a sore spot I can poke, I shove my dirty fingernail deep inside and twist. I waved Bryan away as I took another step closer. In my peripheral, I saw Dani inch towards the pot on the stove, closer to the water she’d been boiling for tea. If I could just hold his attention on me for long enough, she could incapacitate him.

“Your daddy did all this because of your brother, huh? I bet Noah was always the favorite, wasn’t he?”

His face twisted. “You don’t know anything. You killed him!”

“Honestly, I didn’t. The same people who killed him tried to kill me, too. And I’m sure you’ve heard what I did to them.” My own cold voice sounded foreign to my ears. The menacing look I leveled straight at him must’ve been convincing.

“My dad said that you…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure of himself.

“No, I didn’t,” I said as I shook my head sadly. I peered up at him through my eyelashes and finished, “But I wish I had.” His hand balled at his waist but he still didn’t move. A quick glance to Dani and I kept pushing. “How does it feel to be your dad’s second choice son? I’m an only child, so I wouldn’t know.”

He stumbled over his words, the awkward stutter returning for a split second. It was the sore spot I’d been looking for. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Shut the fuck up.”

“You think your dad would’ve gone to all this trouble for you?” I laughed, my forehead crinkling. I tossed my hair over my shoulder with a flick. “So not only are you batshit insane, you’re delusional. Good to know.” I turned my head but kept my eyes locked on him.

“Shut up.”

“How much do you think he valued you? What number would he write down on a piece of paper for you?”

“Stop it,” he growled.

“Really, Chris. Do you think your daddy would’ve gone to these lengths if you’d been killed? Spend years plotting revenge? All this time and effort?” The gun trembled in his hand as his features collapsed. I knew I was close to breaking him. “Do you think he would’ve even stood on the edge of your grave and wept? ‘Cause I don’t. Not for a second.”

Dani’s fingers wrapped around the handle of the pot and she carefully lifted it from the burner. I gestured wildly to keep his attention on me.

“Would he have done any of this for you, Chris? Answer me honestly.”

“I… he loved me just as much,” he resisted. Dani inched close enough she could throw the scalding water on him.

“Trust me. As a mother, I would’ve never put a child I loved in as much danger as he did you. He never loved you.” His expression crumbled but we couldn’t waste any time. “Now!” I screamed.

Dani lunged forward, the water arcing through the air towards Chris’ head. The water made contact and the pot clattered to the floor. I waited for the screams of agony. I expected to see him clutch his face with both hands, fall to his knees, and beg for mercy. Instead, with a sour expression, he held his arms out as the water dripped from his soaked jacket.

“What did you do that for?” he asked incredulously. A perfectly good question when someone throws luke-warm water on you, under normal circumstances. And then he understood what her intentions had been. Rage grew as he shook it from his clothes. He peeled the wet jacket off, revealing a thin shirt underneath. The scratches along his arms and neck looked like stripes from this distance.

Dani noticed them, piecing everything together just as I had hours before. We hadn’t talked about Chris or Richards kidnapping Jack. We’d thought we’d have plenty of time to decompress before facing the hard truths.

“Why did you do it?” she asked quietly. “Why did you try to kill Miah?”

Chris actually looked apologetic. “That was a complete accident. I didn’t try to kill him, I swear it. He was in the wrong place…”

Dani trembled with anger. “He never did a
thing
to you! None of us ever did
anything
to you!”

“Now hold on,” he warned. I watched as he remembered he was the one with the gun, the one with power. I needed to knock him down another few pegs before he did something stupid.

“Chris, will you put down the damn gun and go get cleaned up? You’re dripping water all over the floor.”

At first, I thought he was going to listen obediently. But the fiery anger in his gaze rekindled. He closed his eyes and shook his head while mouthing, “No, no, no,” over and over. He slammed the heel of his hand against his temple with one final shout. “No! Stop telling me what to do!”

Chris swung the gun towards Dani. She dropped to a crouch, shielding her head with her arms. Chris hesitated, the gun quivering as if it weighed thirty pounds. It was long enough for Dani to peek between her arms, the suspense too much. I think we saw Miah rush forward at the same moment. The axe arced through the air with amazing speed and came down on Chris’ extended arm.

The limb bent unnaturally, as he screamed in surprise and pain. The gun fell to the tile and spun a few times before coming to a rest by the fridge. I flew forward expecting to see a spreading puddle of blood. I knew a wound like that could bleed out in a matter of minutes. To be honest, I didn’t give a shit about Chris. I was more concerned about my hardwood floors…

Miah dropped the axe and flew to Dani, stooping to secure the handgun as he passed. “God, I thought you hacked his arm off,” she gasped as they embraced.

“I used the butt.” Wrapped in his protective arms, they both turned to stare at Chris. “There’s no way I’m letting him get away with what he did.”

I couldn’t thank him enough for that decision. Seeing justice doled out for all the pain and suffering his father and he had inflicted would go a long way to healing the town. Bryan limped to my side and the four of us surrounded Chris. He was rolled on his back, crying out in agony as he hugged his shattered forearm. He glared up at us in abject defeat.

“What are we going to do with him?” Dani asked.

“Tie him up, wait to get him to the police?” Bryan offered. We all shrugged in agreement and continued to stare at him like an animal caught in a trap.

Miah let out a loud exhale and shook out his arms. “Whew! What a frickin’ crazy couple days,” he muttered as he smoothed his hair back. “Like… holy shit. What the hell just happened?”

Bryan laughed, a hearty, genuine laugh that surprised me. He thrust his hand out to Miah who looked even more confused as he shook it. “You’ll get used to it,” Bryan chuckled. “Welcome to the family.”

January 10th

I had begged Mom to let me stay in Tellure Hollow for the rest of the winter. When she, and the whole world, learned of what had happened to us… well, everyone lost their collective shit. I knew I had to stay. Bryan and Liz relied on me now. The whole town leaned on each other, like struts that support a wall before it can carry its own weight. It’s not that I thought I was such an important person, but everyone who had been at the lodge shared an uncommon bond. We needed each other until… well, until we didn’t, and no one knew when that day would come.

I got a front row seat to the mayhem that is Liz and Bryan’s public life. As soon as the roads were clear, the reporters descended like crows on fresh, juicy carrion. The glee in their eyes was tangible. Every lush, terrible morsel of news was fought over, picked apart. Public attention drove the frenzy, pushing the reporters to hunt us day in and day out.

For two weeks straight, news vans lurked around Tellure Hollow like predators stalking prey. With no organization, every resident simultaneously refused their attention. Bryan and Liz were the only ones speaking to the press and I saw, for the very first time, the true dynamic in the town. They were the lightning rods. They stood up to the scrutiny and speculation so others wouldn’t have to. Liz and Bryan were the shield that kept this sleepy mountain town from changing too much.

“We just want to put all of this behind us,” Liz had said to a greasy-haired reporter while sitting in their living room. She’d agreed to one interview, granted to the highest bidder. Surrounded by three cameras, microphones, and professional lighting, she gave the abridged version of what’d happened. With a certain amount of brash grace, she told him enough to satisfy but was strong enough to shut down anything too personal. I thought she was going to kick them out and call the whole thing off when they’d tried to sneak a private shot of her with Jack. I later discovered the money they’d earned from that interview had gone to pay Lacey’s medical bills.

At first, I supposed it was a smart decision. Speak once, end the silence, and hopefully the world would forget all about it. But it only fueled the flames.

Living in their house, I saw how it wore on them. I’d hear them wondering if it’d be better for the town if they moved, took the whole circus with them. But that was a question for next year. They still felt responsible for putting things right.

And then the attention shifted. Someone, some tourist out-of-towner blabbed about me and suddenly the lenses pointed in my direction. I wasn’t the boring cousin of Bryan Marsh anymore. I became “The Hero at Powder Mountain.”

I couldn’t leave the house without them attacking me on the street. They parked at the end of the driveway, waiting for the perfect shot. You know what’s not helpful for a person trying to recover from a stressful event? Constant surveillance.