39. CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
B rody
I pull at the door handle, but it doesn’t budge. It rattles as though it’s broken. He must have broken it. I rear backward and slam my booted feet against the door. Then, my shoulder. A frustrated shout leaves my throat.
Ivy . Oh no .
I race blindly, looking for another way out. I find one through the kitchens past the cooks and a mixture of aromas. They leave me sick to my stomach.
I swallow a deep breath in the crisp, open air and run in the general direction of the door they left through. The terrain is still. Way too still for a night when a man has taken Ivy away.
My boots sink into the snow as I try to move quickly. “Ivy!” I shout at the top of my lungs. “Ivy!” But my voice is carried away by the slow evening wind, and an answering call doesn’t come back.
I finally reached the door through which they left, and I was right. The handle is shattered, lying on the ground. I spin around, trying to make sense of everything. Where could he have taken her?
My gaze falls on the footprints in the clear snow. My heartbeat speeds up. I follow it, hoping, praying I’d find Ivy at the end of it.
But the trail ends, and she’s not there. A new track begins—not feet. The long lines and continuous weaving pattern spell a snowmobile.
I turn around and race toward the garage where the snowmobiles are housed. Time is of the essence, and I don’t want to waste a second getting to Ivy.
The garage lights up as I walk in. I get on the one closest to the door and turn the key. It doesn’t start.
“Fuck.” I climb off and try the next and the one after.
After a few seconds, it becomes clear. They’ve all been disabled. The bastard.
I march out of the garage and run into Nick and Zane.
“We heard shouting,” my friend says, a frown marring his features.
“Someone took Ivy.” My head spins. Who knows what he’s doing to Ivy now? This was premeditated. He knew where the snowmobiles were located and how to prevent anyone from following him.
“What?” Nick frowns. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
I grab Nick’s arm before he can go on the futile mission to get a snowmobile. “He disabled all of them.”
“The fuck?” He gapes, looking as confused as I feel.
Zane’s face gives nothing away as he snaps his phone out. “I’ll call for help.”
Cliff leads the way out of the kitchen doors, with the rest of the women and Callum following. Nick relays what has happened as I pace. Ideas are thrown around, but none ensure I’ll get Ivy as quickly as I’d like.
Fuck it.
I head to the lodge’s rental. I’m moving blindly, rage and fear coursing through me. I grab a pair of skis and poles. The first boot I pull on is a size too small. My foot swims in the second. I roar and toss the boot so hard it crashes into a shelf, raining gear parts. The staff will hate me tomorrow. I hate myself right now for the delay. Anything could be happening to Ivy.
Lungs heaving, I grab another pair and slip my foot inside. Third time’s the charm. It fits.
Goggles. I need them. A pair hangs off the counter’s edge. A drop away from the trash can. Better that than spending precious seconds looking for another one. I snatch it and head out.
“Brody, you need back up.” Callum’s eyebrows lift as I step toward the agitated group. “Whoever it is must be dangerous.”
“Then be my backup,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m not leaving Ivy alone.”
Can’t .
Without waiting for more input, I strap on the goggles. The left lens is cracked, but it’s a nonissue as I take off down the slopes, following the snowmobile’s track. The frosty wind whooshes past my face, stinging my skin and watering my half-exposed eye. Without the complete gear, I’m being battered, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling clogging up my throat. Anything could be happening to Ivy right now, and I can’t stop it.
Hold on, baby. I’m coming .
I glance skyward and send up a quick prayer. Sudden snowfalls aren’t uncommon in these parts. But I can’t have that tonight. The snowmobile tracks need to stay clear so I can find Ivy.
Gritting my teeth, I accelerate. My sides heave with the effort and my muscles bunch up but I keep going, keep pushing.
Nightfall eats up the evening light and presses around me, pulsing like my aching heart. The lights illuminating the trail stave off the dark but only just. Beyond the glow, it’s anyone’s guess what’s happening. To Ivy .
Despair closes frosty digits around my heart. Their trail goes farther and farther. Deeper onto the resort’s grounds. He must have ridden hard and fast. The accidents that could occur with that kind of reckless speed flash in my head.
I put that thought out of my mind. Since the tracks continue, Ivy is still alive, and she’s waiting for me to come rescue her.
A distant flickering light pierces the dark. I squint in its direction, pressing the breaks on my mad dash. A cabin comes into view in the distance. I eye the building. It’s one of the few littered around the property for anyone who loses their way and needs a place to stay.
Or a hiding spot for a kidnapper with nefarious plans.
I come to a stop on a hill and peer at the cabin. It’s difficult in the dark but combining the low light coming from the cabin’s window and the form of a white snowmobile sitting in front of the building, certainty crystalizes in my chest. The snowmobile is the same as the many that were disabled in the resort’s garage. Got him.
The instinct to rush in guns blazing tears through me, but I stuff it down. That would be foolish since I don’t have a gun, but he does. Ivy’s also in there. I don’t want her to get in the way of a stray bullet.
Swallowing the fear for her life that threatens to incapacitate me, I free myself of my ski gear. I don’t have an alternative footwear, but I shuck off the ski boots anyway. I can’t let them get in the way of rescuing Ivy. Cold seeps into my soles, but I can barely feel anything except the rapid thud of my heart as I take off. I bend at the waist and stay low, getting as close to the cabin as possible.
The open window allows a trickle of light that reflects on the panes. I walk within the tree line, looking for a good vantage point. Then I find it. I remain crouched, looking inside.
I see him. The man who took Ivy. He has a gun in his hand, finger on the trigger, waving the goddamned thing like a fool. He is a fool. He doesn’t realize the wrath he has earned by taking Ivy. My hands close into fists, and my body grows tight with the need to pummel something. I take a deep breath and calm myself for the moment. I’ll get the chance soon enough.
Moving further, I find who I’m looking for. Ivy. My heart thumps in my chest at the sight of her. She’s strapped to the chair, arms pressed to her sides. He did a thorough job keeping her locked in. But her mouth is free, and she’s speaking. Even leaning forward to yell at him.
My breath stutters in my chest as the gun is pressed to her forehead. But she doesn’t back down. She stares past the barrel at him, daring him.
Stubborn, stubborn woman.
I can’t waste a second more. She’ll push him to hurt her, and then I’ll have to kill him.
I round the property and move as stealthily as I can. My heartbeat sounds louder than my footfalls, so that must mean I am quiet enough. I come up close to the cabin, and the mix of their arguing voices reaches me. Staying low, I inch my way up to the front.
My fist tightens around a stick I. I lift it and slam it against the side of the cabin. The sounds inside cut off.
“What is that?” the man says.
“How should I know? I’m in here. Not out there.”
“Shut up,” he says to her.
Don’t tell her to shut up . Only I get to do so.
I hit the wall again.
“You should check on whatever is out there,” Ivy says. “Maybe it’s a bear.”
“Maybe I’ll feed you to it.”
But I hear footsteps. He’s coming. I hunker down by the door and wait.
It creaks open, and a head pokes out. Too bad he’s looking up ahead and not at the threat below. Good for me because I seize the element of surprise.
I stand, and as his eyes widen, I smack the stick on the side of his head. It shatters, the splinters raining everywhere. Ivy yells inside.
Ivy.
I grab him by the collar and throw him down the steps. Then I shut the door behind me.
“Why did you take her?” I take the steps quickly and kick a foot into his face before he can recover. “Why?!”
The man falls back against the snow, bringing his hands to his bleeding nose. His eyes blink open and fall on his gun. As if only realizing what he has, he points it at me, crawling away on his ass like a pathetic loser.
“Who the fuck are you?” Blood dribbles down his jaw as he speaks.
“I’m the one who’s going to kill you for hurting the woman I love.”
Even with the gun in his hand, he gets on his feet and backs away from me, turning in a circle. He’s between me and the cabin now. Is he thinking of going back inside and using Ivy as leverage?
I advance, and he backs away, his leg climbing on the first step. No way in hell. I run after him, and he lets loose two very off-target gunshots. I grab him by the neck just as he reaches the door and pull him to the ground.
He struggles against me with considerable strength but I’m trained and his movements are sloppy. I quickly wrestle the gun free and toss it away.
His fist finds my jaw, but there’s enough adrenaline pumping in my veins for the hit to feel like a mere graze. I return one of mine and another and another. His fighting hands fall limply by his side. Only then do I stop punching him.
I fall back on my haunches, staring down at his still form. My chest rises and falls with relief. Climbing to my feet, I make my way over to the gun and pick it up. A Smith and Wesson. 9mm. The exact make that shot at Ivy back in Denver. I fit it in my belt and open the front door.
Ivy jumps in her seat, and then her eyes meet mine. “Oh, Brody,” she cries my name.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” I kneel before her, looking for the knots that keep her bound. “I should have come sooner.”
“You are here. It’s all that matters. Are you okay? I heard gunshots.”
“I’m fine. He didn’t get me.”
I find a knot and work it free. The ropes unravel quickly, but even before they’ve come off completely, Ivy’s throwing her arms around me and burying her face in my neck while sobbing.
“Did he hurt you, baby?” I palm her face and look over her features.
“No, he didn’t.” She shakes her head, her hair bouncing around her face. “Brody, I was so scared.”
“I’m here, baby. I’m right here. Never going to let anyone get to you. Not anymore.” I hug her tightly, pouring everything I feel into the touch.
“That’s Daryl Olwen. He was the one who trashed our apartment,” she chokes out. “He shot at me. He tried to kill me. It wasn’t Luke.”
“Why?” I look into her eyes. I can’t understand. Why would anyone want to hurt her?
“He blames me because he lost his kids he was abusing. I testified against him. He wanted to get them back.”
I look back at the door, tempted to go outside and give him another thorough beating.
“He’s down, baby. It’s over for him. He came after you. So wrong of him.” I palm her face. “He’s not getting away with it this time.”
A thump sounds outside.
Ivy jumps in my arms, her eyes wide. “Is that him?”
“Wait here.”
I stand, aware of the gun in my belt. But I don’t need it. Not yet. Slowly, I make my way to the door.
In the dimly lit night, a dark form clings to the creaky railings. Rubbery feet scramble on the porch as Daryl struggles to get up. Wheezing breaths puff out a cloud of fog, marking his spot. His head swings in my direction as he senses my presence. He snarls, wagging a wobbly finger. “You...”
“No.” I kick him squarely in the face, and he goes back down, sprawling on the floor, unconscious again.
My offensive foot throbs. Both, in fact.
“Whoa,” a voice says over my shoulder.
Stepping on the wooden surface of the cabin’s porch shoots tingles up my calves.
I limp around to face Ivy. “I told you to stay inside.”
“And miss you protecting me?” A glint sparks in her eyes. “Not a chance.” Her hands press against my chest, steadying me as I stumble slightly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
She looks down. “Brody!” She gasps. “You are barefoot.”
“Skied all the way over.” I shrug. “Attempting a rescue in ski boots would’ve been very awkward.”
She doesn’t return my wry smile. “But your feet…”
“I’ve experienced worse on my tours.” I wrap my arms around her. She’s here. She’s safe. “This is nothing.”
“Okay, tough guy. But we need to get you checked.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle, pressing my forehead against hers. “I love you.”
She leans in and kisses my lips. “I love you, too.”
“But you really have to listen to me.”
“Never.” A smile curves her lips.
I scoff a laugh. “Figures. I thought I’d try though.”
An engine rumbles in the distance.
“What’s that?” Ivy looks over her shoulder.
“The calvary,” I say. “It’s over.”