Black Ice

  His eyes locked on mine. "Almost as smart."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Calvin brought me chicken broth and bread for dinner. Then he went to wake Korbie. When I saw her appear at the top of the stairs, I couldn't help myself. I hastily set aside the tray holding my dinner, tossed off my blankets, and ran for her. The groggy, drugged glaze in Korbie's eyes cleared as she saw me racing up the steps toward her. By the time I threw my arms around her, Korbie was already sobbing loudly.

  "I thought I was going to die," she gasped. "I thought you were dead for sure."

  "Nobody's dead," Calvin said, and I could practically hear him roll his eyes at our emotional display.

  "I didn't have any food," Korbie explained to me. "They left me in that cabin to die. And I would have, if Calvin hadn't found me."

  "Of course I found you," Calvin pointed out.

  I said, "Ace told me he left you two granola bars and a canteen, though, right?"

  A quick, guilty glance at her brother revealed that Korbie had left that part out. "Yes, but it was hardly anything! Not enough to last two days. Besides, the granola bars were stale and I had to force myself to eat them."

  For once, Korbie's melodrama didn't bother me. I hugged her harder. "I'm so glad you're alive and safe."

  "Calvin and I tried to call the police, but the phone line is down and Calvin's cell phone isn't getting service," Korbie informed me. "So Calvin's going to find Shaun and Ace himself and bring them in. Citizen's arrest, right, Calvin? They're on foot and Calvin's got a snowmobile. I told Calvin their plan is to get off the mountain and hijack a car, and he's going to go out first thing tomorrow and patrol the roads. They're not getting away with this."

  "But Shaun--" I began dazedly.

  "I'll use whatever force I have to to detain them," Calvin said. "One thing's for sure. They're not leaving the Tetons--unless they're tied in the back of my SUV."

  I blinked at Calvin. Why was he talking like Shaun was alive? He shot Shaun and burned the body. I'd watched him do it.

  "Calvin found the snowmobile abandoned by the roadside, wasn't that lucky?" Korbie went on. "It had the keys left in the ignition and everything. There was a radio in it, and Calvin thinks the snowmobile probably belonged to a park ranger. He tried to use the radio to call for help, but it had been destroyed."

  "Lucky," I murmured in agreement, a faint chill passing down my spine. Calvin took the snowmobile from the ranger patrol cabin. So why wasn't he correcting his sister? Why was he lying?

  Was Calvin going to pretend like he hadn't killed Shaun? Surely the police would understand. Shaun was a criminal. And anyway, Calvin shot Shaun in self-defense.

  Only he hadn't.

  As Jude had reminded me too many times to count, Shaun had been unarmed when Calvin pulled the trigger.

  I went to bed numb, but not from cold. Calvin had monitored me closely all evening, and true to his word, had refused to let me sleep until my body temperature crept into a safe range. Even though I'd watched Calvin check the door locks, I was scared of the dark, and of what--who--might try to come in while I slept. Jude was out there in the forest. And while a bolted door might slow him down, it might not stop him. His future depended on destroying the evidence that proved he was a murderer. I had a hunch, right now, that Jude was feeling very determined.

  Calvin put me in the bear-themed bedroom on the second floor at the top of the stairs, the same room I had slept in on my previous visits to Idlewilde. Mrs. Versteeg had given each of the bedrooms a theme, and mine had a four-poster log bed with a bear-patterned quilt, a faux bear rug, and framed photos of bears on the walls. One photo was of a mother black bear playing with two cubs, but the other portrayed a roaring grizzly, fangs bared. I suddenly wished I had Korbie's room, with its fishing theme. I didn't want to remember last night's encounter with the grizzly . . . or what had followed, under the tree, with Jude.

  I lay in bed, listening to Calvin pace downstairs. He kept the TV off, tuning his ears to any strange sounds. He'd also shut off the interior lights, but left the outside ones blazing like spotlights on every entrance into the cabin. No one, he'd vowed to me, would approach the cabin without his noticing.

  As I felt myself drifting off, a knock sounded on the bedroom door.

  "Cal?" I cried out, bolting to a sitting position and clutching the sheet to my chin.

  He cracked the door. "Did I wake you?"

  I exhaled, relieved. "No. Come in." I patted the mattress beside me.

  He kept the light off. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay."

  "I'm a little scared, but I feel safe with you." As skilled and determined as Jude was, Calvin had him beat. If Jude found Idlewilde, if he tried to break in, Calvin would stop him. These were the words I told myself.

  "No one is getting in," Calvin assured me, and it comforted me that like old times, he knew how to read my thoughts.

  "Do you have an extra gun?" I asked. "Do you think I should carry one, just in case?"

  The mattress dipped as he sat beside me. He was wearing a ratty red-and-black Highland High School Rams sweatshirt. I'd borrowed the sweatshirt countless times last year, taking it to bed with me so I could breathe in the warm, salty scent of Calvin while I slept. I hadn't seen Calvin or his sweatshirt since he left for Stanford eight months ago. It struck me as odd that he hadn't replaced the sweatshirt with one from Stanford. Maybe he had and it was in the wash. Or maybe he wasn't ready to let go of the past, and those who'd meant the most to him. It was a comforting thought.

  Calvin asked, "Do you know how to use a gun?"

  "Ian has one, but I've never fired it."

  "Then you're better off without it. Britt, I owe you an apology--" He stopped himself, dropping his eyes to his lap and exhaling slowly.

  I could have smoothed over the silence with one dismissive or witty remark, but I decided not to jump in and save him. I deserved this. I'd waited a long time to hear these words.

  "I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you," he said, his expression crumpling with emotion. He turned away, hastily swatting his tears. "I know it seemed like I ran off as fast as I could, like I couldn't leave town, and you, fast enough. Believe it or not, I was scared to go to college. My dad put a lot of pressure on me. I was scared of failing. I felt like I had to cut myself off from home and start building my new life right away. I had to impress my dad. I had to show him I deserved the tuition money, and he'd given me a damn thorough checklist to make sure I was measuring up," he added bitterly. "Do you know what his last words to me were before I left? He said, 'Don't you dare get homesick. Only pussies look back.' He meant it, Britt. That's why I didn't come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas--to prove I was a man and didn't need to run home when things got tough. That, and I didn't want to see him."

  I took Calvin's hand and squeezed it. To cheer him up, I lifted his chin and gave him a mischievous smile. "Remember how we made that voodoo doll when we were kids, and pretended it was your dad, and took turns stabbing a pin into it?"

  Calvin snorted, but his voice remained toneless. "I stole one of his socks from his drawer, and we stuffed it with cotton balls and drew his face on it with a black marker. Korbie took the pin from my mom's sewing box."

  "I don't even remember what he did that made us so mad."

  Calvin's jaw clenched. "I missed a free throw during my seventh-grade basketball game. When we got home, he told me to start shooting baskets. He wouldn't let me in the house until I'd made a thousand free throws. It was freezing out, and I only had on my jersey and shorts. You and Korbie watched from the window, crying. When I finished, it was almost bedtime. Four hours," he murmured to himself despondently. "He let me freeze out there for four hours."

  Now I remembered. Calvin had come inside at last, his skin mottled and chafed, his lips blue, his teeth chattering. Four hours, and Mr. Versteeg hadn't once stuck his head out the front door to check on his son. He'd sat in his office clicking away on his laptop, his back to the window that
looked out on the hoop in the driveway.

  "You'll thank me for this," Mr. Versteeg had said, clasping Calvin on his frozen shoulder. "Next game, no air balls. You'll see."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  "I'm sorry your dad was so hard on you," I told Calvin, lacing my fingers through his to show him I was on his side.

  He hadn't moved from my bed. Stiff-shouldered, he glared at the wall as if he were seeing his unhappy childhood projected onto it like a movie. The sound of my voice seemed to break his trance, and he shrugged. "Was? He's still hard on me."

  "At least you were able to escape to California this year," I offered optimistically, with a soft, playful tug on his sleeve. I remembered Calvin once praising me for being able to stir him out of his dark, pensive moods with a simple joke or a kiss. I now felt obligated to show him some things never changed. "The distance must have helped. His beating stick only reaches so far."

  "Yeah," he agreed blandly. "I don't want to talk about my dad. I want things between us to be like they used to be. Not between me and my dad," he clarified quickly. "Between us. You and me. I want you to trust me again."

  His words struck me with unseen force. Our conversation came uncannily close to the one I'd envisioned on the drive up to Idlewilde, days ago, before I knew the danger in store. I'd fantasized that Calvin wanted me back. I'd vowed I wouldn't soften until he'd fully paid for hurting me. But I didn't feel vindictive anymore. I wanted to let him love me. I was tired of games.

  Calvin cupped my chin, nudging my face close to his. "I thought about you every night in my dorm. I imagined kissing you. Touching you."

  Cal, dreaming about me. Miles away, in some small room I'd never visited. Cal, sharing my secret fantasy. Wasn't this what I'd wanted?

  Playfully, he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and gathered me onto his lap. "It feels right to be with you. I want you, Britt."

  Calvin wanted to be with me. It should have been a romantic moment, I should have felt music in my heart, but my mind kept traveling back to everything I'd just gone through. Hours ago, I'd arrived on his doorstep freezing to death. I wasn't fully recovered. Why did he want this now? Wasn't he concerned about me?

  "Is this your first time?" Calvin asked. "It only hurts a little." His mouth curved against my cheek. "Or so I'm told."

  I had always wanted Calvin to be my first. I'd spent my childhood fantasizing that someday I would walk down the aisle and meet him at the altar. My first time would be on our honeymoon, on the beach, after dark, with the waves tugging at our bodies. Calvin knew I wanted to wait. So why was he pushing me now?

  "Say you want me, Britt," Calvin murmured.

  Absurdly, I could think of everything but a response. Calvin wasn't guarding the cabin doors. Were we safe? Did I want this?

  Calvin kissed me harder, batting my pillow out of the way as he pinned me against the headboard. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once: rucking up my nightshirt, kneading the soft flesh at my hips, stroking my thighs. I sank back on my rear and drew my knees up, trying to slow him down long enough to think, but he laughed softly, interpreting the gesture the wrong way.

  "Playing hard to get. I like that." He advanced on me, kissing me with a short, painful grind of his mouth. My heart beat faster, but it had nothing to do with excitement. The word "no" bubbled up in my throat.

  Suddenly I saw Jude's dark eyes flash before mine. The image was so real, it was like he knelt in front of me, not Calvin.

  I tore away as if I'd been shocked. Staring at Calvin, I wiped my mouth dry with the back of my hand. All traces of Jude had vanished, but I continued to blink anxiously at Calvin, terrified Jude's face would reappear. Did I feel him close by? Was that possible?

  I cut my gaze to the door, half expecting to see Jude stride through it. Bizarrely, I almost hoped he did. He'd stop Calvin.

  No. I flung the thought from my head with self-loathing. I did not want Jude. He was a criminal. A murderer. Thinking he cared about me was a lie.

  Calvin grabbed for me with an impatient groan. "Don't make me stop now."

  I scrabbled over the edge of the bed and landed on my feet. I wanted Calvin out of my room, and Jude out of my head. "No, Calvin," I said firmly.

  He reeled me roughly into his embrace. "I'll be a gentleman." His lips fumbled over mine.

  "No."

  My voice finally broke through his dreamy expression, and his face clouded with incomprehension. "You acted like you wanted this," he said accusingly.

  Had I? I'd invited him in, but I wanted to cuddle, to talk. I hadn't asked for this. "This isn't about your boyfriend, is it?" Calvin groaned, plowing his hands through his hair. "Everyone cheats in high school, Britt."

  Like you cheated with Rachel? I wanted to ask.

  "I won't tell," he promised. "And you sure as hell won't tell. So where's the harm?"

  It dawned on me that Calvin didn't realize Mason from the 7-Eleven wasn't my real boyfriend. Nor did he realize that that Mason was the same Mason, or Ace, who'd abducted Korbie and me. He'd missed that entire story unfolding.

  Now wasn't the time to tell him. Calvin acting this way, jealous and scary, made me worry about what he might try next. He'd killed Shaun. Lied about it. And now he was in my bedroom, pushing me further than I wanted. Being with him now felt different. Something had changed, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Except to say that in eight months, he seemed to have forgotten everything about me.

  "You're not going to say anything?" Calvin said angrily. "You're kicking me out, just like that?"

  "I don't want to argue," I said quietly.

  Calvin rolled off my bed, his sharp green eyes studying me a few beats longer. "Sure, Britt, anything for you," he said, in a bland voice that I interpreted as a little bit defeated, a little bit disappointed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  I woke to a chilly draft. I'd forgotten to close the drapes before drifting off. Padding to the window, I tugged the knot loose on the tiebacks. Since I was up, I stood at the window a moment, peering watchfully at the woods. I wished I could pinpoint Jude in the vast darkness. He was out there somewhere, coming for me, I was sure of it.

  An arched alcove led to a Jack-and-Jill bathroom I shared with Korbie, and I went to the sink to splash water on my face. My muscles were sore from the long, arduous hike to Idlewilde, and when I glanced at my reflection, I saw with alarm that I looked awful. My skin was as bleached as driftwood, and every bit as gray. Dark smudges ringed my eyes, and my hair, dull and matted, hadn't been washed in days.

  Unnerved by the sight, I put my back to the mirror. I stood a moment on the cold tile floor, debating. Then I cracked the door leading to Korbie's bedroom. Leaving the lights off, I walked silently to stand over her bed. She slept on her stomach, her deep, rhythmic snoring partially muffled by her pillow. The urge to smooth her hair overcame me, but I knew Calvin would never forgive me if I woke her. Instead, I crawled into bed beside her and cried silently.

  I'm so sorry, I thought at her. It was my idea to come to the mountains. I never meant to hurt you. Not now, or when I dated Calvin. I wish I'd told you about us. It was wrong, to keep it a secret.

  Calvin and I had dated for less than six months. Since I'd known him my whole life, and had been in love with him for most of it, I guess it felt longer than that. He had always been a part of my life, even when we weren't an official couple.

  I'd wanted to make him happy, and that's why I'd agreed to keep our relationship secret. But deep down, it had hurt that he'd been unwilling to publicly call me his girlfriend. It had hurt too to lie to my friends, especially Korbie, especially since Calvin was her brother. To make myself feel better, I'd told myself that relationships were about compromise. I couldn't have everything I wanted. That was part of growing up and accepting that the world didn't revolve around me.

  And then Korbie found out. It happened at her pool party, last summer. The same pool party where Calvin kissed Rachel. Calvin and I had agreed beforehand that we would
treat the pool party like any other occasion. He'd hang out with his friends, and I'd hang out with mine. If our paths crossed, we'd acknowledge each other, the same as we'd done for years, but flirting of any kind was off-limits.

  I bought a one-piece black swimsuit with side cutouts for the party. The other girls would be wearing bikinis, and I wanted to stand out. I knew Calvin would be watching. Before the party, I changed into the swimsuit in Korbie's bedroom, and the moment she saw it, I knew I'd picked the right one.

  "Smokin'," she said, with that desirable mix of admiration and envy.

  Korbie had invited me over an hour early to help her finish setting up, so we put on our cover-ups and headed for the kitchen. I told her I had to use the bathroom, but I slipped down the hall to Calvin's room. I grabbed a piece of paper from his printer and scribbled a quick note, one that I'd been editing in my head for hours. I hadn't come up with the perfect lines yet, but I was out of time.

  Tonight, when you see me stroke my arm, it means I'm thinking about you. And when you see me dip my toes in the pool, I'm imagining we're alone in the pool and I'm sitting in your lap while you kiss me.

  XO XO,

  Britt

  Before I could chicken out, I folded the note, tucking it halfway under Calvin's pillow; then I hurried to meet Korbie in the kitchen.

  It wasn't until right before the guests started showing up that Korbie marched outside to where I was raising the table umbrellas, and waved the note angrily in my face.

  "What's this?"

  "I--it's just--" I stammered. "Where did you get that?"

  "On Calvin's pillow, where do you think?"

  "You weren't supposed to see it." I'd been dreading this day for months. I'd had plenty of time to prepare my apology, but at that moment, words failed me.

  Korbie burst into tears. She dragged me across the yard, behind the lilac hedge. I'd never seen her so upset. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Korbie, I'm so sorry." I really didn't know what to say. I felt awful.

  "How long have you been together?"