"You took Mason away from me, maybe I should take Korbie away from you."
My eyes widened with alarm.
"If we're playing games, I know a few." His face was close enough that I could make out the blue stones of his eyes. Rage burned at the back of them. "That's right, Britt. You played your hand, now it's my turn, isn't that how it works?"
He loosened his grip, and I choked down a breath. As soon as I swallowed air, he pushed my neck to the wall again. "Did you send Mason in the wrong direction? If you did, I won't like it. But if you tell the truth right now, that's something we can work with. Nod if you understand."
Light-headed, I nodded.
"You're ready to start telling the truth?"
Yes, yes, I nodded. Pain raked inside my lungs. It felt like I had a cement block sitting on my chest.
Shaun's hand eased up, and I cried out in relief.
"Another half hour, give Mason that, please,” I begged. "It's still snowing. It's deep, and it will take him time to get to the car and back, plus he's dragging the gear. He's okay, he's just moving slower than we thought."
I waited to see if Shaun would fly into a rage.
The storage room door rattled in its frame, as though the pressure in the cabin had changed suddenly. Not a moment later, a blast of arctic air shot under the door. Immediately, Shaun and I both turned in that direction. The front door closed with a heavy slam, and footsteps carried across the wood floors of the den.
"Ace?" Shaun called out. "That you, buddy?"
The storage room door opened. Shaun's hand dropped innocently to his side, and I recoiled, pressing my back into the corner, wishing I could disappear through the wall.
Mason patted the wall inside the door until he found the light switch.
"What's going on?"he asked, his gaze shifting between us. His face was ruddy from cold, beads of melted snow glistening on his hair and eyebrows. The shoulders and arms of his coat bore a thick dusting of snow.
"Just having a chat,” Shaun said in the most ordinary voice. "Isn't that the case, Britt?"
I didn't answer. My breath came in choppy spurts. The air seemed to scrape my throat as I drew it in. Gingerly, I fingered my neck, my eyes filming at the bruises that burned under my skin.
I looked at Shaun, and a disturbing smile inched across his face. I nearly threw up. I felt the lingering steel of his hand vising my neck. When I shut my eyes, it only made his hate-filled eyes glow that much more vividly.
"You got the gear?" Shaun asked Mason, his voice incongruously mild.
Panicky, irrational thoughts bombarded my mind. I had to get out. I had to run. Maybe I wouldn't freeze in the forest; maybe I'd survive. I'd risk it, to get away from Shaun. I would run and run, until I was safe.
"The gear looks decent? It'll work?" Shaun prompted Mason. Mason didn't answer right away. I felt his gaze continue to press down on me. I wanted to burrow through the wall and run into the forest. The first chance I got, I had to take it, because I might not get a second one.
"What happened to her neck?" Mason asked.
"I caught her tying her scarf around it like a noose,” Shaun said with a chuckle, motioning at my red scarf on the ground. I'd taken it off before falling asleep. I'd rolled it into a ball and cuddled it against my chest for something comforting to hold. "Would you believe it? Another couple minutes alone, and she'd have killed herself. Gonna have to put this one on suicide watch."
I flinched when his cold hand patted my cheek. "No more tricky stuff, Britt. You might know these mountains better, but your friend is turning out to be the better house guest. Maybe I'll change my mind about you."
"Can I talk to Korbie?" My voice was a thin, hoarse whisper. "What kind of question is that?"Shaun said irritably. "What do you think I'm going to say?"
"I want to make sure she's okay.”
”She's okay."
"Can I please see her? I won't try anything, I promise." I had to tell her we were going to run. First chance we got. There was no saying what Shaun would do as the hours wore on.
"I don't know that,” Shaun said. "You already tried to kill yourself. The only thing I know is that I can't trust you."
Mason hadn't spoken in a long time, and I looked over to find him turning my scarf in his hands. His sharp brown eyes fixed on the fabric. Maybe I was imagining it, but his body seemed to draw taut and the set of his jaw appeared to harden. Did he believe Shaun? I wasn't sure. If the rift between him and Shaun widened, it might help Korbie and me. Maybe we could turn Mason to our side. Maybe he'd help us escape.
Once again, I tried to untangle Shaun and Mason's mystifying relationship. Shaun had lied to Mason to cover up his own actions. It seemed like another clue. More proof that Shaun didn't hold all the power. Did he fear Mason would retaliate if he hurt me? I knew nothing about Mason, definitely not enough to trust him, but I did know that I was less frightened of him than of Shaun. Whatever happened, I had to stay close to Mason. If I was right about him, he wouldn't let Shaun hurt me again.
"We should inventory the gear,” Mason finally told Shaun. "Figure out what we need and what we can leave behind."
"You shouldn't have brought any gear we don't need,” Shaun criticized.
"I was freezing and grabbed everything in a hurry,” Mason snapped. "Have you looked out the window? The snow is coming down hard. It took me twice as long to get there and back because of it. We can sort through the gear now."
Shaun grunted his compliance. "Fine. We've got time. We're not taking off until the snow stops."
As Mason followed Shaun out, he glanced over his shoulder, as if he'd had an afterthought. His brown eyes met mine briefly. "By the way, I found Korbie's insulin. It wasn't frozen. Looks like I got to it just in time."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alone in the storage room, I stood frozen in place, my heart skipping erratically. Then I dragged my back down the wall and sat on the floor. This time, I didn't care about the cold bleeding through the concrete. My mind reeled. There wasn't any insulin. Because Korbie wasn't diabetic. Mason had to have figured that out. He'd found the gear, so he must have searched the Wrangler. He'd lied about finding the insulin, but I couldn't figure out why.
I considered what Mason was trying to tell me.
I reviewed his exact words, the tone of his voice, his body language. With one hand resting on the doorknob, he'd raised the issue of the insulin casually, but deliberately. As if he'd needed to ease my mind on the subject. Your secret is safe with me. For now.