Chapter 11
I was only in town for fifteen minutes to wire the money to my parents, and in that brief window of time, I ran into two different people I used to go to school with, the sheriff, one of my grandfather’s old friends, and Banner’s mother. My quick errand took all afternoon.
Banner’s mom convinced me to swing by the restaurant so she could give me a homemade pie to take home. She also gave me a list of seasonal employees they often hired during the winter for various jobs. There was no way to hire everyone who wanted to work in the mountains during the high season. Considering I needed people with similar skills and wanted to bring in people who were familiar with the area and returned like clockwork, the list was as valuable as gold.
I asked my friend’s mother how I could repay her and ended up stunned and speechless when she asked me to talk some sense into Banner. She seemed to think her daughter was being dramatic and overreacting to the situation her dirtbag husband had put her in. The longer she ranted, the clearer it became that Banner hadn’t disclosed the entire reason she’d left Grant and returned to Blue River in such a sorry state.
Her parents definitely hadn’t wanted her to marry him to begin with. It sounded like she didn’t want to give them a reason to gloat or tell her I told you so . Her mother thought Banner had accused Grant of being unfaithful and they’d had a huge falling-out. But Banner hadn’t bothered to explain to her parents how she knew Grant was seeing another woman or why she had rushed home in the middle of the night with the baby. They thought she was being impulsive and immature because she wasn’t getting her way with Grant refusing to move her and Rosie to Denver until he was ready.
I was left awkwardly agreeing to speak with my friend the next time she showed up at the lodge, and I headed for home with two pies instead of one. I hoped Risky liked sweets. I’d never be able to finish them on my own. Maybe I could send one with the tattooed guy if he was still around when I got back to the property.
While thinking about the two men I’d left unattended with my prized possession, I sent Risky a text message, letting him know I was on the way back. The couple of hours I’d told him I’d be gone had long since passed. At this rate, I wouldn’t get back up the mountain until after dark. Typically, I had no issue traversing the steep, winding roads in any condition or light. But all the unusual mishaps that’d befallen me made me leery of whatever might lurk in the dark.
Risky responded with a short and sweet, Be safe.
It irked me that he hadn’t added anything extra.
Why hadn’t he asked what took so long?
Why wasn’t he curious where I’d spent the entire day or asked who’d held me up?
Was he worried about me? Or was it only his paycheck and a free place to crash that concerned him?
I hated the thoughts spinning around in my mind. I didn’t have the time or emotional availability to get all tangled up in whether I was important to a man I hardly knew or not. It seriously irritated me that I knew if I were the one waiting around for him to return, I would most definitely ask him the questions he hadn’t asked me.
It was the first time I’d ever been more invested in someone than they were in me. I was always the one who was unattainable and distant. It was novel to be on the receiving end of the disinterest I’d frequently shown to others over the years.
There were too many mixed signals firing off between the two of us. Trying to navigate what I wanted from him as an employee and what I wanted from him as a man was as tricky as driving the pass in a blizzard with no working headlights and bald tires. One wrong move, and I was going to crash. Traveling at a snail’s pace and being extremely cautious—that was the only way to arrive safely at the final destination.
I threw my phone on the dashboard and gave my head a disgusted shake.
I was too busy and too unlucky to spend a single second giving any headspace to trying to figure out if a boy liked me back or not. I blamed the last kiss we’d shared. It had been heated enough that it melted some of the icy pillars around my heart and fried my neurons. That, on top of the stress of trying to get the lodge ready for the season while juggling the increasingly problematic incidents, left me more emotionally vulnerable than I’d been in ages. I’d thought I’d gotten the hang of locking my feelings down and operating on logic instead of instinct. Who knew I was as susceptible to uncontrollable attraction as anyone else?
I guessed I was never as cold as everyone had led me to believe I was.
When I was halfway home and the sun started to go down, I noticed there was a large SUV on the road behind me. They were practically touching the rusty trailer hitch on the back of my truck with their front bumper. I knew I was going slower than the speed limit as my old truck rumbled through the hairpin turns of each corner, but that was no reason for the other driver to ride my ass so hard.
I grumbled under my breath when they honked their horn at me and flashed their headlights. The pass was narrow with no shoulder on either side. If I turned sharply in one direction, it would lead to smashing into a guardrail and falling down a steep ravine. The other side was nothing more than the rock face from where they’d blasted away the mountain when they built the road. The impatient driver behind me was simply going to have to wait until we hit a straight part of the road and they could pass me.
The horn blared again, and the lights nearly blinded me in the mirror as they flickered repeatedly. I tried to see if the plates were local or from out of state. My confusion grew when I caught sight of the front of the SUV and realized there were no plates, and all the windows of the vehicle were tinted so dark that there was no seeing inside to identify how many people were in the car or what the driver looked like.
A sense of unease unfurled low in my gut. I shifted on the hard bench seat and lifted a hand to wave the other driver around. My phone rang at that exact moment, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin. The truck swerved, and I heard the tires screech on the asphalt. I couldn’t pick up the call. I had to focus on keeping my hands on the wheel, and my attention was divided between the road and the reckless driver. My palms were sweaty, and every muscle in my body was locked with tension and anxiety. I heard every exhale as my lungs bellowed and my heart raced.
A car coming from the other direction, headed down the pass, also honked their horn when the front of my truck drifted over the dividing line after the SUV lightly tapped my truck’s back end. If I hadn’t been holding on for dear life, I would’ve lost control and sent both of us spiraling off the side of the mountain. The sound of metal grinding against metal filled the valley and made my back teeth ache.
There was another bump. This one pushed me forward and let me know the first impact hadn’t been an accident. The force of the collision caused me to lurch forward, my chest nearly smashing into the steering wheel. The jerky motion was enough to have me gasping out loud. I frantically kept my eyes on the road, desperately searching for a place to pull over. I’d driven up and down this pass a thousand times, and I knew each nook and cranny like the back of my hand. The only place to pull off and let the SUV go around me was my driveway, which was still several miles away.
“Fuck!” I swore at the top of my lungs when I was hit from behind again.
The back end of the truck skidded sideways, and the tires lost traction. The old vehicle started to fishtail, and icy fingers of fear poked at my spine as I felt the last bit of traction slipping away. My brain started to scramble, figuring if I smashed into the side of the mountain, I might live to tell about it. If the SUV managed to push me off the edge into the ravine, there would be no coming back from that. The truck would become nothing more than a rusted-out coffin, swallowed up by the trees and snow as soon as the weather changed.
I honked back at the aggressive driver and prayed no one else was driving on the pass around the hairpin turns. The vehicle behind was pushing me across the solid yellow lines, directly into the path of oncoming traffic. It was one thing to have my life dangle in the balance. That wasn’t a tremendous surprise, considering someone had been shooting at me not too long ago. Dragging an innocent motorist into this mess just because they were in the wrong place during their commute made me violently ill.
I was jolted again. The impact made the whole truck skip sideways and come dangerously close to colliding with the guardrail. The sound of straining metal rang in my ears and filled my spinning head.
My phone slid across the dash and bounced off the windshield to land on the floorboard of the passenger side. It rang repeatedly, and without looking, I knew it was Risky. There was no one else who would call again and again when they couldn’t get ahold of me. It seemed I had preemptively freaked out over his lack of concern earlier. If I’d waited fifteen minutes, he could’ve asked all the things that had me in a tizzy and questioning my sanity.
It was going to be a real shame if I died in the next few moments and never got the chance to fully explore all the new things the strange and dangerous man was making me feel. He’d managed to tap into emotions I hadn’t been aware were buried underneath my natural hesitancy and reservations.
I slammed on the brakes, forcing the two vehicles to smash together. The SUV hadn’t been ready for the sudden deceleration and started to wobble dangerously. The vehicle, which was nothing more than a dark shadow lurking behind me as the sun set, now had steam billowing from under the hood and only one working headlight. The engine revved as the driver pushed the large vehicle forward, but my truck was dead weight. With my foot smashed on the brakes, it was a battle of who would let off the pedal first. My truck was heavier, and acrid smoke came from all four tires as the vehicles battled back and forth.
I heard a semi horn signaling they were coming around the next bend in the road. It was a familiar sound for a local and for anyone who traveled the pass frequently. I doubted that the SUV driver had any clue a big truck was barreling right for us. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be stuck behind me in the wrong lane, still trying to force me off the road. I kept my foot smashed down on the brakes as hard as possible until I saw the first glimmer of the lights from the oncoming semi. As soon as I knew it was about to crest the corner, I lifted my foot off the brakes and jerked the steering wheel toward the correct lane. The shove from behind propelled me away faster than the SUV could follow. The black vehicle was stuck in the path of the bearing-down semi, both trapped in the tight turn with little time to react. I felt bad for the truck driver, who had no other option than to run into the SUV.
My truck hit the guardrail with the front fender and bounced. I heard the tires pop and the glass break. Loose gravel under the back end sent me into a spin as the large trailer of the truck started to slide in my direction after the massive cab clipped the SUV and sent them both smashing into the side of the mountain. I couldn’t avoid the heavy trailer. Sparks flew as it dragged along the guardrail, thankfully slowing down the momentum. It tore up the posts and the few unfortunate trees that grew along the edge of the road. Dirt flew in every direction, and it sounded like we were all caught inside an industrial trash compactor. The sliding trailer crushed the front end of the truck and rattled me around enough that I split my head open when it smacked against the doorframe and banged my wrist hard enough on the old-fashioned window crank that it felt like my bones shattered. I could smell burned rubber and spilled gasoline, as well as the distinct, faint metallic scent of blood. And underlying it all, was a hint of fruitiness from the pies that got splattered throughout the interior.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the back tires on the far side of the long trailer were hanging completely off of the road and dangling over the precarious drop below. If my reflexes had been just a hair slower, my truck would’ve launched off the same spot.
My head was buzzing, and my body was numb. I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was for surviving a near-death experience, but mine was having all my systems short circuit and then come back alive within seconds.
I bent to reach for my phone. I was stopped abruptly by the seat belt. This was the only time I regretted holding on to the old truck and stubbornly refusing to upgrade. I could really use hands-free calling right now to let someone know I was alive, despite the best efforts of the SUV driver. When I jerked back, I noticed my hand was bleeding, and there was broken glass everywhere. The back and passenger windows were completely gone. Belatedly, I remembered I could use voice commands on my phone to call for help, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to handle this emergency in a calm and collected manner. I was freaked the fuck out.
I fumbled with the seat-belt release and crawled across the bench seat until I could reach my fallen phone. I felt glass poke through my jeans, and I had to wipe the blood off my hands and face for the recognition software to realize it was me. When I caught sight of my current state on the screen, I could not hold in a gasp of shock. I very much looked like I’d barely escaped a life-or-death experience. There was blood and pie crust all throughout my hair. The pale streaks were colored scarlet, and looked horrifying and garish.
My first call should’ve been to 911, but it wasn’t. I didn’t call the sheriff either.
I returned Risky’s call. He was the person I wanted to talk to the most. His was the voice I wanted to hear as everything around me started to swirl and blur. My vision went fuzzy around the edges, and I could feel blood trickling down the side of my face.
“Why weren’t you answering your phone?”
I tried to respond, but it felt like something was lodged in my throat. One of the horns was stuck blaring, making my ears ring.
“Lucky? What in the fuck is going on? Where are you?”
“Hurt. There was an accident.” My voice sounded weak, and I started to have a hard time concentrating. “You were worried about me.” It wasn’t a question any longer because I could hear the tight concern in his voice.
“You were in an accident, and you’re hurt? Tell me where you are. Right now!” The urgency in his tone warmed my frozen places.
“I almost made it home. It’s an accident. I think I’m going to throw up.” And pass out. I was dizzy as hell, and my head ached. It felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Every blink caused my brain to throb, and every breath made my chest feel like it was on fire. “I need help.”
This might be the only time I admitted that out loud.
I’d learned when I was young that you couldn’t ask for something without giving something in return. My grandparents were selfless, and I never wanted for anything under their care, but just like my parents put each other before everything else, my grandparents’ first love was the lodge and Blue River. If I’d needed something, it had always been weighed against what the property needed.
This was the first time in my adult life that I needed someone to put me first because I was incapable of taking care of myself.
“Don’t move.” Risky barked the order. “I’m on the way.”
I moaned in pain and tried to force my fuzzy head to focus and cooperate. I needed to get out of the truck. I didn’t want to be a sitting duck in case the driver of the SUV had a plan B if running me off the road didn’t work.
I let out a strangled sound when I put all my weight against the door and tried to push it open. My wrist screamed in agony, and I could hardly see through the blood running down my face. The metal creaked and groaned in protest, but eventually, I tumbled to the ground in an uncoordinated heap. I heard Risky calling my name from the cell phone that had fallen a few feet away when I wasn’t able to hold on to it as I fell.
I found myself sprawled on my back, the cold asphalt stinging my spine as I stared up at the rapidly darkening sky. Everything hurt, and I was at a loss. I was used to my luck making things miserable, but it had never been so bad that I was constantly in a fight for my life. I’d laughed off Risky’s earlier claim that I had an enemy; now it didn’t seem very funny.
I was scared. Terrified, as I belatedly realized that I had more to lose than the lodge.
My final coherent thought before I succumbed to the pressure in my head and passed out was, I hadn’t had to ask Risky to come. I’d simply told him I was in trouble, and he’d promised he was on his way.
There had been no one I could rely on like that in my life before.
It was going to be impossible to see him as anything other than a man who had given me something I hadn’t even known I needed.
I was in an entirely different type of trouble where Declan Risk was concerned.