Avalanche (Ricochet Ridge #2)

Chapter 1

Stone

“What do you mean, ‘Hanlon is coming to Ricochet’?” I ask my dad, trying like hell to keep the bite out of my voice in an effort to save myself from yet another lecture about how terribly I’ve treated my stepbrother these past few years.

For the record, I haven’t treated him terribly; I just haven’t treated him at all.

My dad’s laugh on the other end of the line sets my teeth on edge, and I sit up in bed, suddenly dreading having the day off. That’s too much time to think about everything plaguing my mind, and now, I get to add Hanlon to the list.

“I don’t know how else to phrase that to make it easier to understand, son,” my dad says.

He’s not being an asshole, just honest. He and my stepmom are good parents, if a little overbearing, and they’d do anything for Hanlon and me.

“What I mean is, why? When? How long is he staying?” I ask, practically begging for any information at this point.

Instead of answering my questions, my dad says, “I’ve got to run. Why don’t you give him a call and ask him? Lana sends her love and says she’ll call you tomorrow to get your Christmas wish list, so start thinking about what you want. You know she likes to shop early.”

What I want is for Hanlon to stay on his own side of the fucking country, I think to myself.

“Okay,” I reply out loud.

My stepmom has a heart of gold. Her son is her entire world, but she never made me feel less than.

My biological mother, on the other hand, is a piece of work.

She had tried poisoning my love for Lana from the very start until my dad got full custody and my mom decided it wasn’t worth the legal battle to keep her rights.

It was all very confusing to a ten-year-old, and at twenty-six, I wish I could say I see the world a little more clearly, but that’s definitely not the case.

I stare at the phone in my hand for a full five minutes after the call ends before getting up and getting ready for the gym.

There’s only one thing I can think of that will get my mind off everything, even if just for a little while: the sound of weights slamming the floor and a heart rate of one-ninety.

Things between Hanlon Winchester the Third and me are…complicated. He’s my stepbrother, but his dad died when he was really young, so he’s claimed my dad as his own since he was six. At first, it bothered me, but eventually it just became normal.

Four years younger than me, it was easy to see that Hanlon looked up to me simply because I was older.

Having a kid brother might have been cool if our parents hadn’t pushed so hard for us to be instant siblings and best friends.

It was clear from the start how much they loved each other, but they expected Hanlon and me to follow suit just as easily, and at ten years old, I didn’t want some fucking baby messing with my shit.

Besides, it’s a hard adjustment to go from being an only child to instantly becoming an older brother.

Suddenly, Hanlon was everywhere I was. He wanted to play with my friends, eat my favorite snacks, use my toys, and he always got to choose the movie on family movie nights.

He talked a lot as a kid, asked an obnoxious number of questions, and just floated through life because everything was given to him by everyone around him to make up for the fact that his dad had died when he was four.

Not to mention, Hanlon was born with a very mild case of cerebral palsy. He had some physical development delays, but the fucker was as strong-willed as they come. Our parents couldn’t see that, though, because they were too busy trying to make life easy for him.

And I was expected to do the same.

So, while I was on trash duty, taking the cans to the end of our quarter-mile-long driveway in Vermont’s frozen January, Hanlon was emptying the dishwasher while finishing his hot chocolate inside the cozy house. It’s not a big deal now, but to ten-year-old me, it was totally unfair.

When I turned eighteen, I got the hell out of Burlington, Vermont, as fast as I could, eager to become my own person and just have myself to worry about.

Hanlon probably didn’t deserve the abrupt departure, but by the time I left, I resented his presence so fucking much I wasn’t the older brother he’d wished for, anyway.

I continued to travel home for the holidays because I knew it made Dad and Lana happy. And I fucking hated the smile Hanlon always greeted me with. Finally, once he was eighteen, I didn’t feel the need to make holidays a family affair anymore.

Besides, now he’s twenty-two, I’m twenty-six, and we should both start our own traditions away from Mommy and Daddy.

The only tradition I’ve managed to keep, however, is spending the holidays alone. I haven’t been back to Vermont in four years, and while my parents make the trek to Montana every now and then, Hanlon never comes with them.

The ping of a text alert pulls me from my shocked stupor, only to surprise me more.

Hanlon

Fucking hell. I told Dad I’d tell you myself. Can we talk?

I can’t really pinpoint when Hanlon and I stopped talking to each other and began to rely on our parents for updates about one another, but it’s been a while since I’ve heard his voice.

Which honestly suits me just fine.

When I don’t answer his text right away, my phone goes off again.

Hanlon

Just so you know, I didn’t ask for this.

Is he talking about whatever is bringing him out here, or the cold shoulder I’ve been giving him for years?

Guess the only way I’m going to find out is to call him.

I don’t send a text reply before hitting the button to connect the call, ready to get this over with.

“Stone.” Hanlon says my name instead of a greeting.

His voice has always been deeper than mine, which really used to piss me off.

A lower pitch, raspy quality, and softer volume are all characteristics that come from his weakened vocal cords—which is ironic because after hearing him, you’d think he could move mountains.

The deep timbre always felt at direct odds with his lanky build, outdated glasses, and nerdy vibe.

But there’s a note of something this time that I haven’t heard before: confidence.

Usually, when Hanlon speaks to me, it’s with a quiet note of question, like he’s always wondering if he’s said the right thing.

“Hi,” I say shortly, my annoyance already seeping through. Although I’m not sure if I’m annoyed at him or myself.

“So, look,” he starts, practically growling at me.

“I don’t know how much Mom and Dad have told you, but I’m finishing up my environmental science degree, and I have to have a three-month internship in the field.

I swear to God I didn’t list Ricochet Ridge as any of my choices, but that’s where I got placed anyway.

I don’t expect any special treatment because we’re bro…

because our parents are married, or because of my diagnosis.

In fact, I’d prefer that both of things stay between us. ”

I’m having trouble keeping up, because in order for him to be any kind of student placed with me, it would mean he’s in the literal field. As the team leader for Ricochet Ridge’s Ski Patrol, I drop charges out of helicopters to trigger avalanches for a living.

Hanlon may never have taken the easy route because of his diagnosis, but that doesn’t mean my field is a good fit for him. It’s dangerous, fast-paced, and leaves little room for error.

“I doubt you’ll be with me anyway. You know I work with ski patrol, right?” I ask, seeking clarification.

“No shit, Stone. In case you forgot, I was still at home with our parents when you took off for this job. Mom doesn’t worry about you any less now than she did when you first started.”

A pang of guilt twists my gut. Lana texts me every couple of days just to check in. The conversations aren’t long, just enough so she knows I’m alive.

“Okay, so what exactly are you planning to do out here?” My tone is more rude than necessary, but it can’t be helped.

“Whatever the fuck you tell me to,” he fires at me. “It’s your dream come true. Your name is in the box as my field instructor, which means I’ll be your bitch for three whole months, and I can’t say shit about it. The internship is through the American Avalanche Association, so I have to—”

“Let me stop you right there,” I interrupt, my recently poured coffee cup nearly slipping from my hand. “Why the hell are you studying avalanches?”

The urge to yell ‘that’s my territory!’ like a jealous toddler is overwhelmingly strong.

“Because I want a job as an avalanche forecaster,” he says simply.

“Why?”

“Does it really matter?”

Is that a smirk I hear in his voice?

“I guess not. Just pictured you doing something…” I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

“What?” he asks. “Safer? Easier? Please don’t start with the ‘you poor disabled boy’ shit now.

You were always the one person who made me feel normal, Stone.

You may not give a shit about me anymore, but I’m still counting on you treating me the same as you would anyone else and keeping your mouth shut about things that are my business to tell. ”

My chest tightens at his words.

The problem is that deep down, I do care. And that’s what pisses me off.

It’s not through any fault of his that I felt the need to watch out for him or that I felt like I couldn’t go do my own thing when he was around.

I was a dick to him because leaving him behind made me feel guilty, but I didn’t want him constantly tagging along, either, and I never had a choice. I couldn’t fucking win.

It would appear that I still can’t.

“I was going to say dangerous,” I finish, which is fair. Hanlon isn’t a risk-taker.

“Well, it’d be great if you could just pawn me off on someone else, and pretend like you don’t know me. That would hardly be much different from how we’ve spent the last four years. I start November fifteenth. See you then.”

He hangs up before I have a chance to respond.