Chapter 24
Kip cracked open her eyes to darkness and a pounding in her skull that made her teeth ache. A swirling sea of white filled the dark, like tiny piranha snowflakes trying to eat through the truck to get to her.
The world rocked beneath her, jolting every few seconds, and cold seeped through her jeans where her legs pressed against the door.
A fierce wind howled outside, loud enough to shake the windows.
Terror hit her first, raw and all-consuming.
The storm. The snowstorm she’d watched build all day.
The one that turned the ranch into a white death trap…
at least, for her it seemed. She tried to sit up, but pain stabbed her temple, sharp and hot.
Her hand flew to the spot, fingers coming away red.
Trace’s truck. She had to be in Trace’s truck, right?
He must have come back from town, found her napping, and decided to take her somewhere safe from the blizzard.
But the cab smelled wrong, like stale beer and old cigarettes.
She knew, because that was the smell that clung to her clothes after waiting tables at the Broken Bridle.
Yuck! Trace’s truck always smelled like leather and pine and him.
She turned her head, taking it slow because her vision was swimming.
Silas Holt sat rigid in the driver’s seat with a death grip on the wheel.
His eyes were locked on the whiteout ahead, as if he could see where they were going.
He had his jaw clenched tight, but he appeared to be muttering to himself.
She had no idea what he was saying, and she didn’t want to know.
Fear kept her from rubbing her throbbing temple. She wished she could remember why she’d gotten in Silas’s truck.
Then everything that had happened crashed back over her—stringing popcorn in the kitchen, the knock at the door, Silas with the present, walking out with him to his truck, his fist smashing into the side of her head.
Instinct and panic took over as she bolted upright, her hand scrambling for the door handle. “Stop the truck. Let me out.”
Silas didn’t look at her. “Sit your ass down and shut the fuck up.”
Her heart hammered so hard she felt it in her throat.
The dashboard clock glowed five twelve in the afternoon, but with how dark it was, it could have been midnight.
How long had she been out? Were they still on the ranch?
It was difficult to see through the whirling snow, but they were cutting through a sea of white, making it impossible to even tell what direction they were headed.
One thing she was sure of, the lodge was far behind them, lost in the snow.
No one had heard her scream. They probably didn’t even realize she was missing.
Trace was still in town, coming home only to find she was gone.
Her fingers dove into her pocket for her promise pebble.
If she’d ever needed it more, she couldn’t remember.
Fear clawed too close, making it hard to breathe.
She swiped her fingers back and forth but felt nothing.
Her pocket was empty. She patted the other one, panic rising.
It was gone. She must have dropped it when Silas hit her.
So, once again, she was fighting alone. She swallowed back a sob that threatened to escape. She had no pebble. No Trace. Just Silas, the storm, and the hammering pain in her head.
“Why?” She wanted the word to sound like a demand, but it came out more as a plea. “Why would you take me?”
Silas finally glanced at her, and she wished he hadn’t. His eyes were cold and flat, like the eyes of a shark. Why had she never noticed his eyes before? “Because you are a pathetic whore. You’re just one more in a long line of women I know personally who aren’t worth the air they breathe.”
She pressed herself back against the door. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re all the same. A man works his ass off, and it’s never enough. You have to cut us down every chance you get.”
“I never… not all women are like that.” This man was bat poop crazy.
“The fuck you aren’t. You want me to list the women I know personally who are conniving bitches?
Fine, let’s start with my mother. She left my dad and me when I was eight.
Packed her bags one night and walked out.
Didn’t even leave a note. But we knew. She thought she was better.
Better than her own son. Better than the man who worked twelve hours a day to keep food on the table.
So what if he gambled some of it away? She ruined him.
He drank himself to death by the time I was twelve. ”
Kip’s mouth went dry. “I’m sorry. But that wasn’t me.”
Silas barked out a bitter laugh. “No. You came later. After a string of girls in high school. Leading a man on with how they dress and talk, only to get upset when someone takes ‘em up on it. Like it’s his fault. And you came after that woman back east. She was good at hiding who she really was, too. I met her at a bar in Cheyenne. She led me on for weeks. Smiles, touches, promises. Me paying for date after date after date. When I finally tried to get a little something for myself, she cries rape. Cried to the cops, cried to the judge. I did two years for that lie. Two years because she couldn’t admit she wanted it. ”
Kip’s stomach twisted. “That’s not—”
“And then you.” Silas’s voice dropped lower.
“Princess Privilege, born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Thought you could get even more by marrying some poor sot for his money. Lonzo Rios. Rich boy with Daddy’s fortune.
You wed him, bed him, then killed him off as soon as the ink was dry on the marriage certificate.
Thought no one would notice? Thought you could play innocent? ”
What? She stared at him. “Lonzo wasn’t rich. That was his father’s money. Lonzo worked for him. We eloped because we loved each other. I didn’t kill him. It was an accident. I would never have hurt him on purpose. The car—”
“Accident.” Silas spat the word. “You think I’m stupid? Lonzo had his own holdings. Properties. Accounts. Investments. Hundreds of millions. All in his name. You married him for it. You killed him to keep it. You ruined his family. Ruined everything.”
Kip shook her head, flaring the pain in her head higher.
“No. That’s just… no! If he had that kind of money, he never told me.
How would I know if he never told me? We lived in college dorms. Our cars were old.
The apartment we were supposed to move into was tiny.
I shopped at thrift stores. If he had money, he never showed it. I loved him. I did not kill him.”
Silas’s laugh came again, this time ugly. “Loved him. Sure you did. Like my mother loved my dad. Like that woman in Cheyenne loved me. Lies. All of you bitches lie.”
She tried to steady her breathing, but her thundering heart made it hard. The truck bounced over something and jarred her head. “I’m not lying. Yes, Lonzo died in a crash. And yes, I was driving. It was my fault for not seeing the car coming, but I looked. I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up.” Silas’s hand left the wheel. She flinched away, leaving him to backhand the air in front of her.
“You think I’m gonna believe you when you ruined my life too?
Keeping me from the foreman job at the Three Eagles.
Jack Clark promised that job to me. I put in six years of hard work.
Then you show up, batting your eyes at the old man, spilling coffee to ruin our meeting.
Then bam!” He slammed his hand against the steering wheel.
“Suddenly, I’m out. Passed over for some fuckin’ kid from Texas.
So don’t try to tell me you don’t deserve to die.
You do. And I’m gonna make sure it’s slow, cold, and alone. ”
Kip’s fingers dug into her pocket once more, searching for the pebble she already knew wasn’t there. The empty space felt like a hole in her chest. She needed it. Needed the smooth stone to rub, to ground her, to remind her Trace was coming. But it was gone. Lost somewhere in the snow.
Then she stopped. That pebble was just a rock.
It couldn’t make or keep a promise. No, Trace was the promise.
Trace gave it to her to remind her to believe in him.
Trace was the one who held her at night when nightmares came.
Trace was the one who would tear the world apart to find her. She trusted him. Not a pebble. Him.
Silas kept driving, skidding as the truck slipped on ice-covered snow. The white blur outside made her nauseous. So she closed her eyes and prayed for Trace to find her fast.
Finally, the truck slowed, engine grinding as Silas shifted gears.
He stopped at the top of a ridge, headlights piercing the storm and highlighting a spruce grove in the shallow valley below.
It took a minute, but Kip recognized that grove.
It was the same one Trace had brought her to find the Christmas tree.
The same grove where Silas, she now realized, had tried to kill her before.
“You should have died here weeks ago,” Silas said, killing the engine. “You couldn’t even do that right. Or maybe I should blame that man of yours. But that’s okay. He’ll suffer enough when he finds what’s left of you.”
He got out, the wind rocking the truck as he slammed the door. He came around to her side, and when he yanked her door open, the cold hit her hard, stealing her breath. She screamed, but the wind carried it away.
Silas gripped her arm and yanked her out. Her shoes sank deep into the snow. He pulled her down the slope, not caring if she walked or he dragged her. She had no coat. No hat. Only her sweater, jeans, and a pair of canvas shoes against a blizzard.
He hauled her to a tall spruce tree that towered over the others.
The lower branches had been trimmed, leaving the trunk bare at the base.
That was when she realized this was not an act of passion.
No, Silas had planned this. He had everything prepared beforehand.
He pushed her against the pruned trunk. The rough bark scraped her skin, even through the loose knit of her sweater.
Pulling her arms behind her, he snapped metal handcuffs onto her wrists, effectively chaining her to the tree.
She scanned along the top of the ridge, hoping to see the lights of another truck—her Daddy’s truck—because he was on his way to save her. He’d promised, and he always kept his promises. He would be here soon. She just had to stay alive until he arrived.
Unable to use her hands, she kicked out, catching him in the shin. He howled before slapping her across the face. Pain exploded in her cheek.
“You wanna play dirty? Fine by me. Let’s see how you like going barefoot in the snow.”
He knelt and yanked off her shoes. He didn’t even leave her socks on. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. What she did know was that bolts of sharp pains shot through the bottoms of her feet and toes immediately.
Silas stepped back, eyes gleaming with malice. “I was going to leave you here, but I’m thinkin’ now, I wanna watch.”
Kip pulled at the metal cuffs cutting her wrists.
The wind howled louder. There was nothing she hated more than the mournful sound of that wind.
He wouldn’t have to wait long. She had never been so cold in her life.
Every blast of snow and wind tore at her, draining her of life-giving warmth.
She found herself starting to get sleepy until a growl snapped her back into reality.
Low, hungry howls rose through the trees behind her.
It was probably wolves, hungry from lack of game.
Silas smiled. “You might freeze, or they might find you first. Either way, I can’t wait to see it happen.” Then he turned his back on her,trudged to his truck and leaned against it. “I’ll watch from here, where it’s safe.”
Kip’s teeth chattered too hard for her to beg or curse him. The cold crawled up her legs. She struggled until it became too painful. Giving up, she closed her eyes and thought of Trace cresting the ridge and rescuing her. It would happen. It was just a matter of time.
But as time passed, her shivering became more severe, and the wolves howled louder.