Black Ice

Even though every plane of his battered face was drawn taut in pain, Jude managed to turn his head, finding my eyes. "Have I told you how amazing you are? The smartest, bravest, most beautiful girl I know."

His murmured endearment brought on a fresh surge of tears. I wiped my nose on the back of my hand, nodding enthusiastically, trying to show him confidence. My true feelings-despair, hopelessness, and fear-I pushed out of my mind, not wanting him to read them in my eyes.

"We're going to get out of here,” I said, tugging at the knots at his wrists. I untied them first, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of the raw marks chafing his skin, then moved to his ankles, one of which was grotesquely swollen to the size of a tennis ball.

"Britt,” he breathed, closing his eyes, and I realized with alarm that his energy was dwindling quickly. "Leave me. Go get help. I'll wait here for you."

"I'm not leaving you with Calvin,” I said firmly. "Who knows what he'll do to you. I might not make it back in time."

"I can't walk. I hurt my ankle trying to free myself. I think I twisted it. Don't worry about me. Calvin told me he wouldn't be back for a while."

He said it so convincingly, I was tempted to believe him. But I knew Jude too well. He'd given up on saving himself. His smooth assurance was intended to make certain I got out before Calvin returned. Which, I had no doubt, would be soon. Calvin would not leave Jude alone for more than a handful of minutes.

"I'm going to make a sled out of the sheet. I'll drag you out of here."

"Down the stairs?"Jude said, shaking his head. "I'll never make it. Go get help. Calvin left a gun in the bedside table. Take it with you."

I opened the drawer and slid the gun into my pocket. I hoped I didn't have to use it, but I would shoot Calvin if I had to. This time I would not hesitate.

"Let's get your boots on,” I said, sliding his left foot into a boot as gently as I could. He sucked in a sharp breath as the boot slid over his swollen ankle, then went utterly still. His eyes shut, and this time they did not reopen. His breathing fell back into a shallow, uneven rhythm.

He'd passed out.

I felt dizzy, unprepared for such a bad stroke of luck. But I wasn't going down without a fight. I would get Jude out of here. Dragging him inch by inch if it came to that.

I buttoned his shirt and shoved his right foot into the other boot. Grasping his legs, I pulled him toward the edge of the mattress, hardly gaining a few inches. I made more progress when I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and jerked backward, throwing my weight into it. At last I untucked the corners of the fitted sheet under him, and lugged him off the bed in a series of exhausting heaves and tugs. His body fell to the floor with a heavy thunk, and for the first time, I was grateful he'd passed out. He hadn't felt a thing.

Jude moaned.

Hadn't felt anything consciously, anyway.

Sweat drenched my face and I strained to pull him across the floor. I glanced behind me at the doorway warily, knowing Calvin was somewhere beyond it, but there was no other way out. I could not drop Jude safely out the second-floor window.

I took a moment to tug on my own boots and coat. Inhaling deeply, I drew one last steadying breath. Then I opened the door.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I scanned both ways down the hall. No sign of Calvin. Peering over the banister, I checked to see that he wasn't downstairs either.

Where had he gone? To look for the map on his own?

I dragged Jude into the hall. Surveying the steep wooden stairs, I realized Jude was right: There was no way I could safely get him down. The sheet would not provide enough padding against the sharp edge of each step, and I didn't have time to saddle his back to a pillow.

"Wake up, Jude,” I whispered, kneeling beside him and slapping his cheeks firmly.

He stirred, muttering incoherently.

"We're going to climb down the stairs together." Even with his twisted ankle, if I shouldered some of his weight, and he put the rest on his good leg, together we could hobble down the stairs.

"Britt?"

His head rolled to the side, and I patted his cheeks harder to rouse him. "Stay with me, Jude."

He flinched at my touch. Mercifully, his eyes cracked open. I pinned his face between my hands and gazed intently into his eyes, wishing I could transfer some of my energy into him.

"Go, Britt. Before Calvin comes back."He flashed a brave smile. "I won't go anywhere, I promise."

I cradled Jude's head in my lap. I stroked his damp hair, my hands trembling as I did so. I had to convince him that he could do this. His talk frightened me. He was giving up, and I could not do this without him. "We're a team, remember? We started this together; now we have to finish it."

"I'm holding you back. The reality is, I might not make it.”

”Don't talk like that,” I said, hot tears slipping down the back of my throat. "I need you. I can't do this alone. Promise me you'll stay here with me. You're going to stand up. We're going down the stairs together. On the count of three."

Jude's face softened, the way I imagined a body slackens right before death. Right before the pain ends, when rest is in sight. He slumped in my lap, looking paler than before.

I swiped at my tears with the backs of my hands. I'd have to think of another way out.

And then an idea came to me. I rolled Jude over so he was lying facedown. Hooking my elbows under his shoulders, I dragged him headfirst toward the top step. His legs, trailing behind him, would drop against the steps as we descended, but better them than his spine.

I walked backward down the steps, one at a time, panting heavily. He had to weigh close to two hundred pounds. Fortunately, carrying him this way I was able to distribute most of his weight to the stairs. Unfortunately, I might reopen his shoulder wound and cause him excruciating pain. As awful as that would be, I had to get him out, and worry about the damage I caused later. It was better that I injure him than leave him for Calvin to kill. At the bottom of the flight, I took advantage of the smooth hardwood floors to slide him to the front door.

Opening the door, I hunched my shoulders against the icy whipping of the wind. Calvin's SUV was parked in the snowed-in drive. He hadn't left. My eyes flicked anxiously to the forest as I tried to guess where he'd gone.

As if to punctuate my thought, a geyser of snow shot up near my feet, and a moment later I heard the piercing clap of a gunshot. Swearing, I dragged Jude faster toward the cover of the trees.

Four more staccato bursts of gunfire. Gritting my teeth against the heavy drag of Jude's weight, I heaved him toward the trees. The minute I crossed into the shadows of the forest, the bullets stopped.