Our Chance – Kennedy L. Mitchell #2
“She went back up the mountain,” the owner muttered under his breath before taking a puff of his cigar.
He pointed the lit end toward the man sitting across from him.
I slid my glare to the cashmere sweater-wearing, rich asshole who sat unperturbed by my question or rising agitation, swirling amber liquid around the highball glass in his hand. “He hired us to find Casper.”
“What the fuck?” I muttered under my breath.
“Our family dog, a medium-sized chocolate Goldendoodle,” the man clarified. “Who is more human than?—”
My heart dropped into my stomach, my lungs squeezing with the sudden rush of dread. “You’re telling me you two sent her out in this storm, alone, to search for a fucking dog?” I growled, taking a challenging step toward the asshole.
“He’s not just a dog; he’s part of our family,” the man corrected with an exaggerated frown.
“And we didn’t force her to do anything.
I stated the situation, and she volunteered—eagerly, I must add.
Apparently, she was just as concerned about Casper.
Plus, the enormous sum I offered for this company’s services helped convince her, too, I imagine. ”
Of course, Amy fucking volunteered. The woman loved animals almost more than she loved the snow. Sighing, I crossed both thick arms over my chest and stared at the two men.
“When exactly did she leave?”
The owner lifted a single shoulder. “Soon after she and Brad got back from the previous rescue mission.”
Both dark brows flew up over my forehead. “Twelve fucking hours ago?”
His fat, bald head bobbed side to side. “About that.”
“What the fuck?” I roared, tossing both hands out wide. The two men jumped in their seats. “Have you had any communication with her since she left?”
The owner’s thin lips curled down. “No, actually, I haven’t.”
“For fuck’s sake. Where exactly did you send her to find the dog, and what did she take?”
A knot formed in my gut when he explained she drove the ancient snowmobile to a distant mountainside that was too far to attempt on foot if the dumb thing had broken down.
Without another word, or murdering them for their stupidity, I turned for the door, swiping a satellite phone and tracker that would help me pinpoint her exact location off the side table, and stormed out, ignoring the shouts at my back.
Fuck them.
Amy was out there in this shit storm, alone and dependent on a snowmobile that should’ve been retired before I was fucking born—in the eighties.
When I stormed back into the bunkhouse, the heavy door slammed into the wall, shaking the entire building and making everyone freeze. Near the beds, Carl finished pulling a shirt over his damp hair and eyed me, taking in my grim expression before he straightened, his features shifting to stone.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“These assholes let Amy take off on a mission on her own to the other side of the mountain.” Carl’s brows pulled in tight as his gaze slid to Brad with a gleam that I knew spoke to the violence he’d shown in the past when Amy was involved.
“Some rich fuck lost his dog, so she’s up near Widow’s Peak and took the snowmobile. ”
Clearly understanding the danger, he gave me a clipped nod, yanked a thick sweater from the trunk beneath his bunk, and tugged it over his head.
“I’m coming with you,” he said as he pulled on clean socks. My lips parted to refuse his offer, but he shot a look that told me he was coming whether or not I liked it. “This isn’t up for debate. She shouldn’t have gone out there alone, and neither are you.”
“Fine,” I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck. “We need to leave now to gather gear and the supplies we’ll need. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.”
Not wanting to lose time changing out of my damp clothes, I ripped my still-dripping coat off the hook and shoved both arms through the sleeves, then dug the still-damp beanie from the pocket, tugging it over my thick hair.
While we both geared up to face the brutal weather once again, I debated the best plan that would not only get us to Amy quickly, but also give us the best chance of getting back down the mountain before freezing to death.
With the sun setting in the next couple of hours, offering what little light was actually filtered through the thick gray clouds, we wouldn’t have much visibility, and the temps would drop drastically as night set in.
“What’s the plan?” Carl asked as we exited the bunkhouse, slamming the door behind us.
“I swear this is the final fucking straw with this damn place,” I snapped instead of responding to his question. “How dare he allow her to go up there alone and with that shit equipment? It’s one thing to do that with us, but with her….”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Carl remarked, humor lacing his tone. “She’ll kick your ass for suggesting we’re more skilled because of our gender.”
“It’s not about that. Not really.” I paused outside the gear shed and turned into the spitting snow to face him. “She’s special, you see it.” He nodded. “It’s not about her gender; it’s about who she is. To me.”
“And me,” he growled, but there was a glint in his eyes that didn’t speak to possessiveness, but more heat. “Now, what’s the fucking plan to save our girl?”
“ Our ?” I jerked back, the word completely catching me off guard.
He snorted and stepped around me to open the shed door. “You’re really dumb for someone so fucking smart.” Before I could ask what he meant by that, he’d already stepped into the small metal building, leaving me confused and intrigued. “Now, what’s the plan? I know you have one.”
I did.
I just hoped it was enough to save my girl.
Our girl?
Fuck, I didn’t care what we called Amy as long as we got her back safe.
AMY
“And that’s why I hate clowns.” Clenching my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, I adjusted my hold on the fluff ball of a dog so he didn’t tumble into the thick snow that was currently making walking difficult. “What else can I trauma dump on you? Oh! So, there are these two guys…”
I turned in a slow circle, squinting to keep the snow out of my eyes, searching for the small emergency shelter I was—fingers crossed—headed toward. The nearly frozen dog whimpered as I shifted him to dig out my phone.
“Fuck.” I cursed the black screen. “Fuckity, fuck, fuck.”
With the radio out of battery and now my phone, too, I was truly fucked. Slipping the useless device back into my pocket, I forced my feet to keep moving in what I hoped was the right direction.
“Oh, Brandon will be so mad at me,” I said, breath fogging behind my face covering.
“He’s always like, ‘You need a more reliable compass than the app on your phone.’ I just didn’t have time to charge it earlier.
Though, if I don’t turn into a human ice sculpture, the consequences of this might be fun.
He comes up with the best punishments for when I’ve overlooked my safety. ”
I smiled down at the dog, but he didn’t respond in agreement.
Not that I expected him to.
Well, maybe I kind of did.
Was that a sign of hypothermia?
“However, I might have taken it a bit too far this time,“ I grumbled to myself. My stomach sank as fear slowly worked through my veins. I needed to keep distracting myself to keep from freaking out. “So, back to these two guys—men, really. Oh, my, are they men. And don’t you dare judge me for wanting them both like everyone else seems to. There is just something about them that makes me not want to give either of them up. And I know there is a sexual tension between those two, as well.” My blood heated at that thought.
“Which, if they wanted each other and me, that would be more than okay. I mean yes, please, am I right?”
Again, the dog didn’t respond.
A flash of red through the trees had my shoulders sagging in relief.
The emergency shelter I was looking for.
It wasn’t luxurious, by any means, but it would work to get us both out of the elements.
Hopefully, the last person to use it left some firewood.
They all had small cast-iron stoves for times just like this, but that didn’t mean there was dry wood to burn inside or that I could get a fire started with two sticks.
I was normally pretty resourceful, but not fucking MacGyver.
“Anyway … So, one is a former Navy SEAL,” I continued to keep from thinking about how I no longer felt pain in my toes.
Not good. “Older than me, all tatted up and so protective. And don’t get me started on how hot it is to be tossed around during sex like you weigh nothing.
” Despite my current circumstances, I smiled, and a soft sigh escaped.
“And Carl. Sweet, funny, and adventurous Carl. He’s so fun, and he just lets me be me.
I’ve never laughed so hard with a guy as I do with him.
Oh, and of course, he’s all tall, lean muscles and looks like a freaking Abercrombie model.
See, why would anyone expect me to choose? ”
After a couple of tries, I finally worked the tip of my thick gloves beneath the latch that kept the door shut during storms. With a few curse words shouted into the wind and a tear or two frozen on my cheeks, I slowly worked the door open, inch by inch, using what little energy I had left to move aside the piled-up snow, which was making my life way more fucking difficult than it needed to be.
Once inside, I clicked on my headlamp to cut through the dry darkness while stomping my boots on the rubber-covered floor, then immediately scanned the small space for somewhere to lay the exhausted and nearly frozen dog.
Hoping I could eventually get a fire started, I gently laid him down near the small stove.
Blowing hot air into my gloved hands, I turned for the two tubs lining the opposite wall and popped both lids off.
Relief flowed through me as I pulled out a thick, coarse emergency blanket.