Chapter 12
The reprieve from blacking out didn’t last long. When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t Risky I saw, but a worried family who had pulled over to check on everyone involved in the accident. They had already called 911 and assured me emergency services were on the way. The mom was holding hands with a terrified teenager while the father tried to keep everyone calm.
There were a million tiny rocks digging into my back, and the asphalt was ice-cold along my spine. I tried to sit up, but the motion made my stomach roll and sent lightning bolts of pain shooting through my brain.
Behind the worried family, I saw a large man in a baseball cap talking on the phone. He was shouting at whoever he was speaking with and pacing furiously next to the open door of the big rig. I guessed he was the truck driver who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and inadvertently gotten dragged into a deadly game of chicken. I was relieved that he appeared to be unharmed, even though his truck was still hanging off the side of the mountain.
The same couldn’t be said for the person in the black SUV. I couldn’t move my head too much without wanting to throw up, but even from my supine position, I could tell the SUV had suffered the most damage. The front end was obliterated, and the entire vehicle was crushed like a recycled can of soda. There was no escaping a head-on collision of that magnitude.
I lifted a hand to wipe away the blood that was still running down my face. I frowned when my wrist throbbed just as bad as my head did. Through blurry eyes, I noticed it was swollen to the size of a small grapefruit. All these bumps and bruises I was collecting were going to make getting the lodge ready for opening day even harder than it had already been. As I was cataloging my various aches and pains, I heard another set of tires screeching on the pavement and then a deep voice calling my name.
I forced myself to turn my head and saw Risky rushing toward me. It was dark, and my vision wasn’t clear, but I could still tell that he was deeply worried about me. His eyes looked at the wrecked truck and trailer, and a litany of swear words filled the night air.
“I don’t ever want you to say you’re unlucky again in this lifetime, Ms. Fortune.” He lowered himself so that he could touch the side of my face that wasn’t covered in blood. “The calls don’t come much closer than this.” A muscle in his cheek jumped, and despite his gentle touch, I could tell he was furious. “Are you okay?”
“I called 911. An ambulance should be here at any minute. And the police.” The dad with the family rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess it will take a while because of the remote location and the difficulty of the road conditions.”
I tried to grab Risky’s hand, but my sore wrist didn’t want to cooperate.
“Stop moving.” He barked the order. I could barely feel the pressure from his fingertips where he touched me. “There’s no telling how badly you’re injured. Don’t make things worse by wiggling around.” He looked over at the trucker, who was still yelling into his phone. “What happened? Did the semi’s brakes go out?”
I automatically went to shake my head but nearly passed out again. Risky resorted to holding my face between his warm palms so I couldn’t move. I realized it was nearly impossible to see the SUV where it was crushed under the front end of the massive truck.
“Someone tried to run me off the road. They hit the semi when it came around the turn.” My voice was thin and thready.
I felt like my tongue was too big for my mouth, but Risky didn’t have a problem understanding me. He glanced at the front end of the semi and frowned.
A minute later, the first responders arrived. The family who stopped was happy to hand the whole situation over to the professionals. If I wasn’t mistaken, the heavy aura that had come when Risky arrived made them nervous, but they didn’t want to leave me alone with him until real help arrived. It was a kind, if unnecessary, gesture.
Of course, as soon as I was strapped to a gurney and loaded into the back of the ambulance, the sheriff crawled in alongside me and started peppering me with annoying questions. From the jump, I could tell he wanted to pin the fault of the major accident on me. He repeatedly asked if I had been drinking or was under the influence of anything. He questioned if I had been speeding. He demanded to know how someone who had grown up driving the pass could miss an oncoming semi truck. I didn’t say a word as he hammered at me relentlessly. Even when the EMTs told him they needed to go and asked him to leave the back of the ambulance, he gruffly stated he would meet me at the hospital to continue questioning me.
I didn’t respond, but right before the doors at the back of the emergency vehicle were closed, I saw Risky step up to the older man and tell him flatly that the truck driver had a dashcam and the entire accident had been filmed and saved. The sheriff immediately lost some of his bluster and shot a dirty look to where I was lying, strapped down for the winding ride off the mountain.
I heard the sheriff ask Risky who he was, and maybe I’d hit my head harder than I thought because I swore I heard him reply, “Her man.” Not her handyman or one of her employees, but something that was far more personal and would put him directly on the cranky lawman’s radar, right next to me.
Right as the doors were about to click shut, I thought I heard Risky say something about the sheriff being terrible at poker or having a shitty poker face. I didn’t understand the context, but the brief glimpse I caught of the older man’s furious expression showed that he was suddenly angrier at Risky than he’d ever been at me. The entire exchange was confusing, and my head was too rattled to make sense of it. I made a note to remember to ask Risky at a later date what he’d said that got under the sheriff’s skin.
When I arrived at the hospital, it was obvious that I was banged up and had some minor lacerations, but I wasn’t critical. They determined that even though I’d passed out, I didn’t have the symptoms of a concussion, and they chalked the blackout up to shock.
I was wheeled into a room and waited for quite a bit until a nurse came in to take my vitals and make notes about all my injuries. She stayed to disinfect everything and sent me off to get my wrist X-rayed to make sure it wasn’t broken. She also gave me a tetanus shot when I told her most of the abrasions and scratches that were bleeding had come from broken glass.
When I got back to the room from radiology, Risky was there. I still had to wait for a doctor to go over my X-ray and for them to prescribe painkillers.
I noticed when the nurse subtly checked Risky out before she left us alone. He never moved his eyes off of me. His handsome face was still set in angry lines, and there were waves of hostility pouring off his big body. It was obvious why the unsuspecting Good Samaritans had been eager to get away from him.
“Did you leave your friend at the lodge?” I asked in a raspy voice to break some of the tension filling the small space.
“He dropped me off and headed back to Denver.” Risky kept the answer clipped and was back to holding on to words like each one he used was worth a fortune.
“My truck is gone.” I sighed and lifted my non-injured hand to rub between my eyebrows. “We’re going to need to figure out a way home.”
“I’ve already taken care of it.” Risky narrowed his eyes at me before I could ask what he meant. “The truck driver let me look at the dashcam footage before handing it over to that worthless sheriff. Do you have any idea how close you came to being flattened, Lucky?”
I closed my eyes and shuddered. The sight of that trailer sliding toward me as I careened toward the edge of the road would haunt me forever.
“I know.” I whispered the words and avoided looking into his furious golden gaze. “Did you guys find any more cameras hidden around the property?”
I wanted his attention off my near miss because I didn’t know how long I could withstand the heavy emotions emanating from him in my weakened state. I already lost my head around him. If he kept aggressively caring about me, I might take my heart out of the deep freeze and offer it to him as a snack.
“No more cameras. Zowen thinks they were hastily placed in the cabins in obvious locations to alarm guests. He said they weren’t even transmitting footage anywhere and were definitely not the work of a professional.”
I heaved a relieved breath. “That’s awesome news.”
He hummed in agreement, but popped my tiny bubble of relief mercilessly with his next words. “I had him look over the rest of the systems you use for reservations, collecting payments, running payroll, and ordering. There were glitches in all of them. Nothing you would notice right away. A missed delivery here. A double charge on a credit card there. The reservations system would have collapsed on the first day of winter. All your existing reservations would’ve vanished, and any incoming ones would’ve switched to different days as soon as you tried to save them. Zowen said it was a pretty sophisticated system hack. It would’ve been catastrophic if he hadn’t found the changes before business picked up.” Risky shook his head and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. His frustration was palpable. “He left a secure laptop for you to run everything off of for the time being. If he says no one can access it, I believe him. He’s got another job he’s committed to, but once he’s wrapped it up, he’s going to come back and shore up all your digital defenses. He also helped me dial in the cameras and suggested a company to hire for installing a full-blown security system.”
I groaned and rubbed my forehead even harder. “I can’t afford any of that.”
“Can you afford the fallout from thousands of negative reviews and angry guests? Not to mention the loss of income from hundreds of faulty reservations, or the legal ramifications of a major data breach. You need to consider every security measure at your disposal. As for Archer, don’t worry about—”
I cut Risky off before he finished the sentence. “He owes you a favor, right?”
Risky shrugged. “Not in the way you’re thinking. We’re friends. We help each other out. He’s doing this because I asked him to.”
“And you asked him to help for nostalgia? Because you have fond memories of the lodge and my grandparents?” The question was more pointed and sharper than I’d intended it to be.
The dark-haired man merely lifted his immaculate eyebrows and muttered, “Something like that.”
Convinced my ears had heard what I wanted them to when he called himself my man, I changed the subject. “Why did you ask the sheriff about poker?”
A flash of surprise crossed his dour expression. “You heard that?”
I couldn’t nod, so I hummed an affirmative sound.
Risky grunted as he moved to stand closer to the side of the bed. His gaze drifted over my sorry state, and his frown grew even darker and more menacing.
“That old man clearly has it out for you. If he’s not interested in doing his damn job, I figured I would make it so he had no other option than to work for that easy paycheck. I told you my previous job was all about fixing the mistakes others had made. I’ve got a solid eye for the type of person who probably has something they don’t want the rest of the world to know about. The sheriff fits that mold perfectly.”
My confusion must’ve been obvious because his harsh expression finally gave way to a slight smile.
“He likes to gamble, but he sucks at it. He owes hundreds of thousands of dollars to the local casinos and a couple of different bookies. Not sure how the people of Blue River would feel about their elected law enforcement official using public funds to pay off personal debt. I just wanted to make sure the sheriff understood his secrets weren’t as safe as he thought they were.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Risky chuckled. “I think diabolical is what you meant. It’s more accurate.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the doctor, who hurried to tell me my wrist was badly sprained, but there was no evidence of a break. After he used Steri-Strips to close the wound on my forehead and told me which pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions, he sent me home with orders to rest and keep my wrist elevated above my heart when I lay down to reduce the swelling. He reminded me that I should follow up with my regular doctor if my head continued to hurt or if any serious signs tied to a head injury started to appear.
Risky held me close as I gingerly navigated the way to the exit of the hospital. As I was standing at the entrance, waiting for Risky to drive around and pick me up, the sheriff walked up to me and gave me a narrow-eyed look. He opened his mouth, his white mustache practically vibrating off his lip as he restrained himself from whatever he originally wanted to say. He grunted and lifted the heavy belt around his waist in aggravation.
“When you feel up to it, come by my office and give me your rundown of the accident. I don’t suppose you know who was driving the SUV that tried to run you off the road?” He shook his head. “Identifying whatever’s left of the driver is going to take a long time. That’s a right mess up there on the mountain.”
I snorted and ignored his dirty look. “I have no idea.”
“Are there that many people who want you dead, Lucky?” The sarcasm in his voice was thick as mud. “And what about that sketchy handyman you’ve got working for you? Where did you find him?”
My snarky reply died on my lips when a shiny, brand-new red pickup truck pulled to a stop directly in front of me. The sheriff and I watched as Risky came around the hood to open the passenger door for me. I didn’t bother to ask where he’d found the pristine truck on such short notice because I was getting used to him being a magician and pulling more than a rabbit out of his hat.
He gave the sheriff a disdainful look, and the old man instantly backed down and continued on his way into the hospital. It was interesting to watch the man who always tried to lord his power over others be instantly humbled by his own unethical behavior.
Once I was seated in the truck, I let Risky take over everything. He handled getting the pain meds and other essentials I would need while my wrist was bandaged. He got takeout for dinner and drove us back up the mountain, all while I existed in a fog of confusion. I thought the reality that I’d nearly died today began to set in, and all the fear and panic I’d forcibly shut down to get through the ordeal finally broke free. I started to shake, and my breathing was rapid and uneven. At some point, I couldn’t stop myself from crying.
I was a wreck.
I didn’t remember getting back to the lodge or crawling into bed. I vaguely recalled a glass of water being placed to my lips, swallowing one of the painkillers, and then nothing else.
When I opened my eyes, it was well into the next day, and I felt like I’d been run through a garbage disposal. My injured hand was propped up on a pile of pillows next to me, and there was no sign of my bloody clothes. I was wearing a large white T-shirt that clearly didn’t belong to me, and not much else.
I should probably ponder the implications of Risky stripping me bare and putting me to bed while I was zoned out, but first, I needed to use the bathroom and attempt to make myself feel human again.
I was standing in front of the mirror above my sink, looking at the black-and-blue side of my face, wondering if my luck could get any worse than having someone actively trying to murder me, when I heard footsteps coming down the outside stairs that led to my basement apartment. Risky came through the door like he owned the place, his free hand holding a plastic-wrapped plate overflowing with basic breakfast items.
Our eyes locked across the room, and his gaze skimmed over my still-skimpy attire. If I didn’t look like I’d just lost a boxing match, I would worry he might think I was trying to be alluring and seduce him. However, I’d never felt less sexy or appealing in my life.
He set the plate of food down on the small kitchen island and crossed his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling this morning, Lucky?”
I pointed to my face and gave a wry grin. “Anything but lucky. Which is nothing new.” I took my miserable self back to bed, fully intending to shut the world out and lick my wounds alone.
Risky arched an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. I was glad he was back to pretending to be a happy-go-lucky hitchhiker instead of acting like the dangerous, devilish threat he’d revealed to be his true self.
“Have you ever had anyone point out there is a distinct difference between you having a run of bad luck, and your life being full of bad people? I mean, I think you might be clumsier than the average person and a tad reckless. Your real problem isn’t luck. It’s that you have a target on your back that shines like a beacon, attracting the worst sort of people because they know you’ll never blame them for being awful and treating you like a scapegoat. You’ll take on the fault because you’ve been trained to believe you’re an unlucky burden by those who should be closest to you. You aren’t the problem, Lucky. Everyone else is. I say this as someone who spent his former life surrounded by the actual dregs of society.”
My breath caught, and my heart shook violently within its icy enclosure. More and more frozen shards sheared off and melted at his words. This might be the singular time someone told me that whatever it was that was going wrong at the moment wasn’t my fault. I desperately wanted to believe him.
Maybe I was going to seduce him after all. How could I resist the only man who had gone out of his way to let me know I wasn’t a liability, not just to him, but to the entire world?