Page 93 of Ice Devil

Who’d sent Beck a picture of the dinner with Matt?

What in the hell was Matt up to?

Why hadn’t I written an article anyway?

My guess was the same asshole who’d sent me a photograph of the time shared in the plunge pool in Arizona had been hired to follow me around like a lap dog. Maybe he or she was also responsible for the ridiculous pictures spread all over the internet of me with Beck. Including one that was real. Inside the bar in Scottsdale. But that had been completely innocent. What in the hell was going on?

Blackmail?

Or just someone trying to keep me in line?

I slammed my hand on the steering wheel, my entire body aching from the type of agony no one should ever endure. But I deserved the anguish. To a point. I might have been the catalyst, but I hadn’t lit the fuse on the box of explosives.

Until now.

I’d hunt down the motherfuckers involved and their careers wouldn’t survive.

Red flags were bouncing all over the place like a bounce house on steroids. It was a good thing I had no service on my cellphone because if I did, the moment I’d slid onto the driver’s seat, I’d have been dialing Matt’s phone number, telling him off in a string of expletives a sailor would be proud of.

Maybe I should have kicked Matt’s ass when I’d had the chance.

I wiped away a single tear, refusing to fall apart. There was still work to be done. No one was going to ruin our reputations and get away with it. There were cattle prods fully electrified and waiting until I rounded up every person responsible.

With the sky darkening and the rain already coming down, I was eager to get back to the bed and breakfast to regroup. At least I’d booked a room for a few days. I’d find a way to corner Beck. He couldn’t ignore me forever. Could he?

Something smashed against the windshield and I almost jumped out of my skin. A large tree branch tumbled off the hood, carried by a burst of wind.

Why was it that every part of the forest looked the same? Yes, there was a road leading in and out of where the sawmill was located, but as the sky darkened even more, shadows created objects that weren’t really there.

The canopy of tightly woven trees swallowed what little sunlight remained, plunging the road into a bruised, metallic twilight. The barometric pressure plummeted, pressing heavy and thick against the windshield.

A pitter-patter of rain quickly turned to something more intense, the drops huge. Even with the wipers on high, they couldn’t keep up with the slash of water. Suddenly, the forest surrendered to the wind; ancient pines groaned and thrashed their boughs, sending a frantic flurry of loose needles dancing across the slick asphalt. The rental car was far too small and underweight for the heavy sweep of wind, knocking me all over the place.

For a few seconds, I felt extreme fear sweeping through me, stealing my breath as I squeezed my hands around the steering wheel. To make matters worse, I couldn’t stop tears from falling. I’d told myself I wouldn’t cry even if Beck had refused to talk with me.

Demanding something of myself was excellent in thought, but the first moments of seeing his face and the anger altering his features had created a dark, angry pull of emotions.

I slowed down, fighting the urge to turn back. Not because of the storm brewing outside, but the one crashing down on my emotions. I’d sent a second text, trying to encourage a conversation.

He hadn’t bothered to read that one. After my conversation with Matt, I’d figured what did I have to lose in coming to North Bend. Maybe the wishful thinking had kept me from falling into some crazy level of despair.

What troubled me as much as knowing he believed the worst in me was how my body didn’t feel the same any longer. I couldn’t explain what I was talking about with anyone lest they push me into a padded room, tossing away the key afterward.

Even through the closed windows, a closer rumble of thunder rolled through the timber. Tree limbs were already stretching, reaching the ground. Suddenly, one snapped right in front of me.

Yelping, I had to cut the steering wheel hard to keep from running into the huge limb. I was only able to pant and the feeling of suffocation was increasing.

There was at least another four miles before I hit the larger road. There was no way of seeking shelter until the storm passed.

At least not unless I turned back and that just wasn’t going to happen.

As I slowed even more, the headlights managed to cut through the gloom but were only able to illuminate a few yards ahead of me. This was a real nightmare, but tickling the back of my mind was the knowledge that I deserved to experience the level of terror.

Now there was no chance of the windshield wipers keeping up with the pelting rain, the water falling so quickly and with such ferocity I feared the windshield would crack.

Debris was everywhere, flying in all directions. I was on the edge of the seat peering up through the windshield while holding my breath. My thoughts continually shifted back to Beck. About how handsome he was standing in his rugged blue jeans and a Henley shirt. Even his hair was tousled as if he’d had a brutal day at work.

There’d been so many things I’d wanted to say, but around him and for the first time I’d been tongue tied. The ache for him had already formed a cramp in my stomach, but that was nothing in comparison to the lump in my throat.