Every Little Piece of Him Page 19

  Anders stepped around the snowmobile. "Call him."

  "On it." Mark stepped away putting the phone to his ear.

  "Something isn't right," muttered Quint.

  Anders' gut churned, and he unzipped the side of his snowsuit and reached into his back pocket, knowing he hadn't sent the text that called them all together. His pulse accelerated. "I left my phone inside the Lair."

  Quint rubbed the back of his neck. "I don’t have a good fucking feeling about this."

  "Let me see your phone." Anders held out his hand, and once he had the cell, he called Iliana, hoping she picked up regardless if she was still mad at him.

  The call went to voicemail. He disconnected and instantly called Mac. He'd have his manager check on Iliana.

  That call, too, went to voicemail. His body hardened and he thrust the phone at Quint's chest and rushed to the door.

  "Hey, where are you going?" said Quint.

  "Iliana," he shouted, never stopping.

  Pushing outside, he ran across the back parking lot and into the Employees' breakroom. Ignoring the employees lounging around, he plowed through Stone Lair, only hesitating to unlock the door to the upstairs, and then sprinted up the steps.

  "Iliana?" He checked the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room. "Hey, Il?"

  The quietness unnerved him. He sweated under his snowsuit. Looking around his office for his phone, he couldn't remember where he'd set it down. He needed to find Iliana.

  He switched on the widescreen on the wall and sped through the security recordings until he spotted her downstairs in the casino. Checking the time on the recording to the clock on the wall. She'd been in the building twenty minutes ago.

  Tracking her movements until she went into the break room where the cameras blacked out.

  "God damnit." He switched to a different camera, aimed at the back door. Within minutes, he spotted a man in a snowsuit, full facial mask, forcing Iliana across the lot.

  He stopped breathing. Iliana had on the long-sleeved shirt and the pair of jeans she wore earlier. No coat. No hat. Nothing to protect her feet or hands from the elements.

  Flipping through the different security cameras placed inside and outside of the Lair, he was able to follow the man forcing Iliana between the cabins where they disappeared from sight.

  He sucked in air. The man was taking her to the trailhead.

  He rushed downstairs and found Quint and Mark standing outside the pole building. Snow landed on his face, instantly melting. He couldn't feel the cold.

  "She's not here. Someone took her. They're headed toward the trail." He walked between the two and shoved open the door to the pole building.

  "Whoever sent the message to us wants us on the mountain." Mark followed him inside.

  Tension hardened his body. He pushed the button, opening the overhead door. There were no clues leading him to Iliana, but the text message the others received led them to the mountain.

  Joney's mountain.

  He started the first snowmobile, moving to the second. "Did you get ahold of Two-crow?"

  "No, he's not answering. I talked to Will. He still hasn't seen Two-crow, so he's going to drive over here, even though I told him to get his ass back in bed before he opens all his stitches." Mark started the third snowmobile, grabbing the helmet off the seat.

  Anders grabbed the rifles off the wall mount and handed each of them one. "Do you have pistols on you?"

  Both men nodded. Anders sat on the snowmobile, put on his helmet, and looked outside. The snow coming down had increased in the last hour. They wouldn't be able to see twenty-five feet in front of them once they got on the side of the mountain.

  Iliana was out there, and if he failed to find her soon, she'd die of hypothermia.

  He slipped on his gloves and looked over at the others. They were ready.

  "Stay behind me and be careful of the third switchback. Once we get up top, expect anything." He paused. "If...if Iliana is up there, forget about me and get her to safety."

  Nobody had to tell him that Iliana left the Lair under duress. She could be mad at him. She could hate his guts. She could doubt everything that came out of his mouth. But, she wouldn't leave him without talking first.

  He put his face shield down and rode out of the garage. The weather made it impossible to see who was in front, back, and beside him. He only knew that he needed to get to the top of the mountain, and he hoped like hell Iliana would still be alive.

  Chapter 39

  Numb and dizzy, Iliana sat on the still snowmobile unable to move. Forced to put on a large coat and helmet once she was taken to the woods behind the cabins at Stone Lair, her hands were then tied behind her back.

  She'd lost feeling in her fingers almost instantly.

  Nauseated, she could barely keep her eyes open. Rocking on the seat to try and warm her body, she struggled with not getting sick inside the helmet from her ride up the mountain.

  The wind whipped the snow sideways. She tilted her head, trying to see through the curtain of white in the darkness. It took all her strength to keep from falling over with the extra weight on her head from the helmet.

  Unable to hear anything, she finally spotted, or maybe she sensed movement in front of her. She held still.

  Mac leaned down and shouted through the plastic shield on his helmet. "Don't...still."

  She swayed side to side, trying to push off the seat with her legs to get away but the deep snow on each side of the motorized sled made it impossible.

  "Why?" She panted. "Why are you doing this?"

  Mac was supposed to be Anders' right-hand man. He supervised all the different stations at the Lair. Anders trusted him.

  God, Anders. A burst of adrenaline allowed her to sob. The sound echoed in her ears, staying with her.

  How many times had he come up on the mountain only for something bad to happen? Was Mac behind it all?

  Mac had been nothing but professional and kind during the time she'd lived at the Lair with Anders. But the moment he'd put his hands on her and ordered her to be quiet, fear struck her. Every assumption she'd made about what was happening on the mountain became real.

  It wasn't her imagination or her worry.

  She tried to turn her bound hands and reach for her back pocket, but she couldn't feel anything in her ungloved fingers. If she could get to her phone, she'd have a chance at calling Anders and warning him.

  Mac grabbed the front of the coat she wore, and her world tilted. She closed her eyes against the sudden onslaught of nausea until the rocking stopped. He'd set her in the snow beside the snowmobile.

  Pressing her back against the machine, she sought warmth buried to her chest in snow. In front of her, all she could see was a curtain of white. She could no longer feel the freezing cold between her socks and the bottom of her jeans.

  She moved her hands, though she couldn't feel what she touched. Her only hope was to get to her phone. Mac hadn't taken it from her, or maybe he'd forgotten.

  Headlights appeared through the snow, glowing the area in front of her. Hope surged through her until she spotted Mac stepping away from her and terror gripped her stomach.

  "Anders," she screamed. "No. Go back!"

  She cried out as the helmet captured her warning, holding her voice prisoner. Shaking her head as the snow clung to the shield, leaving her in a dark world, her stomach hurled. She gagged.

  Unsure if Anders could even see her in the storm, she tried to push herself to her feet using the snowmobile to brace her back. Her legs quivered, and her sneakers lost their traction.

  Bright spots entered her vision, and she stilled.

  Blinded to what was happening in front of her, she used the last of her strength to yell for help. Then, everything went black.

  MARK USED THE SPOTLIGHT on the top of the mountain. Anders stood up on the snowmobile, flipping the shield off his helmet and peered through the snow. As the light flashed on the western edge, he spotted a moving shape.

&n
bsp; He sat back down, took the rifle out of the holder, and placed the gun across his lap. Motioning to Quint, he rode forward. It was impossible to know if he rode into a trap or how many were surrounding them. He only knew there was a chance Iliana was in front of him, and nothing would stop him from reaching her.

  The closer he got, the figure took shape. His heart beat wildly. He recognized the mask and snowsuit of the man who'd taken Iliana.

  Jumping off the snowmobile, he landed on his knees, buried to his chest in snow, and aimed the rifle. Out of his peripheral vision, Quint and Mark were armed and covering him.

  "Where is she?" he yelled over the wind.

  The man put his hands out to his sides and looked behind him before facing Anders. "I found her."

  Anders put pressure on the trigger as he stood, moving closer. He had proof the man was guilty, which was enough for him to kill him for touching Iliana, but he needed to find her first. He wanted her location before he blew the man's head off.

  "Where the fuck is she?" he yelled.

  The man swung his arm, pointing behind him. Anders stepped off to the side and spotted the snowmobile on the edge of the mountain. Through the snow blowing and the darkness, he strained to make out the area.

  It wasn't until his arm shook from holding the rifle that he spotted a body sprawled out on the snow. He jerked the barrel of the gun up, keeping his sight on the man, and marched straight forward.

  Quint reached his side. "I've got him covered. Go check on Iliana."

  He trudged through the deep snow. What would've taken him twenty seconds in the summertime took him several minutes. Each beat of his heart made him painfully aware that he could be too late.

  The last several feet, he recognized the body. "Iliana," he yelled, panting hard.

  He reached her side and let the snow take his weight as he fell beside her. Not knowing if she was hurt or dead, he worked on loosening the strap under her chin. Growing frustrated at his slowness, he ripped off his gloves and worked the material through the D-ring.

  Carefully pulling the helmet off her, his chest seized. Her head laid in the snow, her pale face getting covered with snowflakes.

  He cupped her cheeks, patting her face. "Iliana?"

  Her eyes remained closed. Unable to tell if she still breathed, he put his head down until her lips touched his cheek. His own erratic breathing made it difficult to tell if he could feel—yes, there it was.

  She breathed.

  He swept his gaze down her body, cringing at the sight of her wet jeans and sneakers. She needed to be warmed. He needed to get her off the mountain and taken care of.

  Picking up his rifle, he slogged through the snow. He no longer cared if Iliana's capture was armed. He'd kill the fucker.

  Quint grabbed his arm. Anders ripped his snowsuit out of his clutch.

  "We need answers." Quint planted a hand in the middle of Anders' chest. "Use him to find who we're looking for. Let's stop this. Tonight."

  "Iliana needs off the mountain." He couldn't delay getting her help.

  Quint motioned Mark to go to Iliana. "He'll keep her warm while we finish here."

  Stepping up on the packed snow where the man had paced, Anders stuck the barrel of the rifle on the man's chest.

  "Take your mask off." He jabbed the gun forward, making the man step backward, closer to the edge of the cliff.

  Slowly, as if knowing what would come next, the man peeled the mask off his face. Anders surprise came out in rage, and he swung the rifle, cold-cocking Mac.

  "I never hurt her, Mr. Stone." Mac straightened from where he had fallen and shook his head. "All they wanted me to do was bring her here at a certain time."

  "Who?" He forced Mac back another step.

  "He went by the name of Michael Jaster. That's all I know. He promised to pay me twenty-thousand dollars and no one would get hurt. He said I only had to bring her here. No one was supposed to know it was me. H-he said he'd meet me here, and then you'd find Iliana after I left."

  Anders' throat constricted and a low growl came from him. Mac had been a loyal employee for five years. He'd put Mac into a position of watching over Iliana when he was gone. And, the whole time he'd been working for Jaster, one of the two men remaining who were guilty of stealing him and the others.

  "Where's Jaster?" he asked.

  Mac shook his head. "I don't know."

  Raising the rifle, he put the barrel on Mac's forehead and forced him back a step.

  "Oh, God. No. Please. I wasn't going to hurt her. That wasn't part of the plan. You have to believe me." Mac stumbled backward, his hand meeting air. "Please, Mr. Stone."

  His manager had gone against him. The promise of money more important than loyalty. He needed no one in his life who would threaten the one person he loved.

  "Stand up." He braced the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and aimed.

  Mac struggled to his feet with the edge of the cliff only a step away. Anders' spine stiffened as he stared into the eyes of his enemy.

  "Step back," he said quietly.

  Mac hesitated, fear flashing over his face.

  Irritated that he wasn't obeyed, Anders yelled, "Step back."

  Resignation swept over Mac's face like a curtain closing out the sun. His ex-manager closed his eyes and stepped back. His foot hit air a second before his body lost its balance and fell. Anders turned away. There would be no thud, no screams, no body tonight. In late spring, there was always a chance a hunter would find Mac's body at the bottom of the mountain if the wolves and scavengers don't find him first.

  Chapter 40

  Anders carried Iliana up the stairs to his private quarters after sending Quint down the mountain first to call the doctor and have him meet them at the lair, while he took the few minutes to put Iliana in his snowsuit.

  Running on automatic, he no longer felt the cold seeping through his clothes. He only knew Iliana needed immediate help. She'd remained unconscious coming down from the mountain, even with her sandwiched between him and Mark for warmth.

  The door opened as he hit the landing and Dr. Warner stepped out of the way. He carried her straight to the bear skin rug where Quint had the fireplace roaring with heat.

  "How long has she been unconscious?" Dr. Warner's old knees cracked as he kneeled beside Iliana with a black bag, unzipping the front of her snowsuit.

  Anders fell back on his ass and ran his hands through his hair. "At least forty-five minutes, if not longer."

  "We're guessing she was outside for a good seventy minutes." Mark held out a cup of coffee to Anders.

  He waved it away. "She was out there with only a coat and a helmet. T-tried to warm her up with the snowsuit but her clothes were wet."

  "Let's get the helmet off her." Dr. Warner listened to her heart and then once her head was free, he opened her eyelids. "Our biggest concern is warming up her body slowly. Right now, it's okay that she's unconscious. She'll come around once her body temperature rises. We need to take everything off her and get the wetness away from her skin."

  "Someone get the blankets off our bed." Anders kneeled beside Iliana and worked her arm out of the sleeve of the suit.

  Pain radiated up his legs. He ignored the feelings coming back into his body and concentrated on working Iliana's limp body parts out of the clothing. Not hesitating when it was time to take off her jeans, he glanced around the room and found Quint and Mark with their backs turned and a pile of blankets on the couch.

  Scared that it was taking too long for her to warm, he ripped her panties at her hip and flung the material to the side. Working on her bra, he finally managed to get every piece of clothing off her body.

  Her paleness scared him. Shouldn't she be pink or red from the cold?

  He rubbed his hands on her ankles, working his way to her toes. "Why isn't she waking up?"

  "Give her time." Dr. Warner tucked the blankets around her, pushing Anders out of the way. "If you want to rub something, work on her hands."


  "Does she have frostbite? Is that why her skin is white?" He stroked her cheek before picking up her hand.

  "We'll have to wait and see. There're no blisters. No oozing. That's a good sign." Dr. Warner held the stethoscope under the blanket on Iliana's chest. "Her heart rate has increased."

  "Should we take her to the hospital?" It was taking too long for her to wake up. Every minute without her struck fear in him. What if it took too long for him to find her?

  "Right now, the most important thing is to warm her body." Dr. Warner looked over his glasses and met Anders' eyes. "We can have her transported by ambulance once I have her temperature at ninety-five. Taking the time to transport her will work against her and take too much time."

  Feeling useless to do more, he laid down beside her and held her blanket-covered body against him. I promise I'll tell you everything. I'll tell you why this was done to you and if you hate me, I'll let you go if that's what you want, but you need to fight. Fight to live again, Il.

  "Mr. Stone, you need to change out of your clothes before you're in the same condition as Ms. Iliana and suffering from hypothermia. I should check you over while we're letting her warm up," said Dr. Warner.

  "No, just take care of her," he muttered, stroking Iliana's face.

  He couldn't live without Iliana. Pressing his forehead to her temple, he willed her to wake up. She'd become everything to him. The Lair had only been something that'd kept his focus through the years. When Iliana walked into his life, sang her songs that spoke to him, held his hand, and fought for his love, he understood what he'd been missing in his life. He'd give up everything not to lose her.

  "Ah, there we go. She's at ninety-five," said Dr. Warner quietly. "I'm not going to give her anything for the pain that will also be showing up until we have her fully awake."

  Anders lifted his head and looked at Iliana's face. Her eyes were still closed.

  He looked down her body. The blankets over her feet shifted. She moved.

  "Come on, Il," he whispered, rubbing her arm. "Come back to me."