Black Ice Read online

  "And Korbie plays the better damsel in distress."

  I didn't bother telling him that usually I played that gig better too, since the tone he used in referring to Korbie wasn't particularly flattering.

  "So, are you guys up here for spring break?" he went on. "Let me guess--girls' weekend at the cabin? Lots of Christian Bale movies, ice cream, and gossip?"

  "Swap James McAvoy for Christian Bale, and you could pretty much go into business as a psychic," I quipped.

  "Seriously, I really want to know what you're doing up here. You know about me, now it's my turn to find out about you."

  I wanted to point out that I knew next to nothing about him, but I was more than happy to talk about myself. "Korbie and I are backpacking the crest of the Teton Range. Forty miles. We've been preparing for this trip all year."

  His brows arched in admiration. "The entire crest? Impressive. Don't take this the wrong way, but Korbie doesn't strike me as the outdoorsy type."

  "Oh, she doesn't know about the forty miles part yet."

  That earned me a loud, resonating laugh. "Wish I could see her face when you break the news."

  I smiled. "It'll be memorable, I'm sure."

  "I bet you've got a lot of sweet gear in your car."

  "Top of the line." Korbie had put her mom in charge of buying our gear, and Mrs. Versteeg had passed the assignment off to her assistant, who had no problem spending her boss's money. Everything had arrived Next Day Air from Cabela's. I wasn't going to complain about our windfall, but there was one tiny red flag. I knew Mr. Versteeg had made Calvin pay for his own gear over the years. If Cal found out that his parents had paid for ours, he would blow into a rage. He constantly complained that they sheltered Korbie, and when we'd dated, he'd nursed resentment that his parents didn't even try to make things fair between him and his sister. I doubted much had changed since he'd left for Stanford. For the sake of keeping the peace, I'd have to remind Korbie not to mention anything about our gear to Calvin.

  "I'll bet you're an expert on the area," Shaun said.

  He had opened the door with a little flattery, and I found myself diving headlong through it. "I come up here to hike often," I said, the white lie out before I could stop it. "I've been doing shorter hikes on the weekends to prepare for this trip." At least that much was true. "I wanted to go into this completely prepared. Most of my friends are in Hawaii for spring break, but I wanted to do something really challenging, you know?"

  "And it's really only you and Korbie? Your parents aren't meeting you up here?"

  I hesitated, almost mentioning Calvin and Bear, but at the last moment changed my mind. First rule of talking to a boy: Never drag your ex into the conversation. It makes you look clingy. And bitter.

  "My mom died when I was young, so it's just my dad now." I shrugged, cool as can be. "He trusts me. He knows I can handle myself. I told him I'd see him at the end of the week. If I'm in trouble, he knows I'll get myself out of it." Now I was really exaggerating. My dad had never witnessed me digging myself out of trouble. The idea was unthinkable. My dad was a model of indulgent parenting. I suspected it was because I was a girl, and the baby, and because I'd lost my mom to cancer before I was old enough to remember her. My dad was always standing by, ready to save me from even the most minor inconveniences. The truth was, I was comfortable being dependent on him--and every other man in my life. It had worked out well for me . . . until it had led to my heart being broken.

  Shaun smiled in a funny way.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Nothing. I'm just surprised. I had you and Korbie pegged as silly high school girls. The stereotypical giggling, helpless, awkward type."

  I batted my eyes. "I don't know what to do with all this flattery."

  We both laughed.

  "I amend my statement," he said, lowering his voice to keep our conversation from drifting out of the kitchen. "I knew Korbie's type from the minute you guys came knocking. But you were harder to peg. You're good-looking and smart, and it threw me. Most pretty girls I've met don't have the complete package. They're crazy, sure, up for adventure, but not like this. Not up for hiking the crest of the Tetons."

  His response could not have been more perfect. I wanted Calvin to hear his words, all of them. I wanted Cal to see that an older boy, older even than Cal, was interested in me and believed in me. I gave Shaun a coy smirk. "Are you flirting with me, Shaun?"

  "I think the honor of biggest flirt goes to Korbie," he answered.

  I wasn't expecting that, and it took me a moment to think up an equally cagey response. "Korbie's good at what she does."

  "And what about you?" He took a step closer. "Do you ever flirt, Britt?"

  I hesitated. I hardly knew Shaun. What's more, Korbie had called dibs on him. But she was the one with a boyfriend. If anything, I should have dibs.

  "At the right moment," I said with a shrewd smile. "With the right boy."

  "And this moment?" He stood so close now, his husky whisper was directly in my ear. "This moment is headed somewhere, and we both know it."

  I wondered if his pulse was thrumming like mine. I wondered if he kept stealing glances at my lips, the way I shamelessly watched his.

  "What about Korbie?" I said in a soft voice.

  "What about her?"

  "She likes you."

  "And I like you." He poured us each a plastic cup of water, then raised his to mine in a toast. "To the snowstorm. For trapping you here with me."

  I tapped my cup to his, grateful to have found Shaun, because for a minute there, I'd thought I was going to have to save myself. Instead, I'd wandered into the protective care of a sexy older man.

  I dared any of my friends to return from spring break with a better story.

  A few minutes before the chili finished simmering, Korbie and I went to the bathroom to tidy up for dinner.

  "Did you have fun cooking with Shaun?" she asked, her tone testy.

  "It was okay," I said neutrally, giving away nothing. A petty part of me liked keeping her in suspense. Payback for her shots at the Wrangler.

  "You left me alone with Frankenstein."

  "Frankenstein is the name of the doctor. I left you alone with Frankenstein's monster. And anyway, you didn't have to stay in the den. You could have come in and helped me and Shaun."

  "Not after I said I don't cook!"

  I shrugged as if to say, Your problem.

  "What did you and Shaun talk about?" Korbie grilled me.

  "Why do you care? You have Bear."

  "Shaun's here, Bear's not. Well? What did you talk about?"

  I finished rinsing my hands, but since there wasn't a hand towel in the bathroom, either, I had to dry them on my jeans again. "Oh, you know. Typical stuff. Mostly we talked about our backpacking trip."

  Korbie looked relieved. "That's it? Just the backpacking trip? You didn't try to flirt with him?"

  "And what if I did?" I said defensively.

  "I have dibs."

  "You have Bear."

  "Bear and I are going to different colleges in the fall."

  "So?"

  "So we aren't forever. What's the point of being completely loyal when I know our relationship is going to end? And I don't really appreciate your self-righteous attitude. You and Calvin were hardly the exemplary couple."

  I turned, backing myself against the countertop to face her head on. "What are you talking about?"

  "He kissed Rachel. At my pool party last summer."

  I gasped. "Rachel Snavely?"

  Korbie raised her brows superiorly. "Nobody's perfect, Britt. Get over it."

  The idea of Calvin kissing Rachel made me squeeze the ledge of the counter hard between my fingers. Calvin and I had started dating in April, a year ago. Korbie's pool party had been in July. I'd been faithfully devoted to Cal until he broke up with me in October, but obviously he hadn't returned the gesture. Was Rachel a onetime slip-up? Or had he cheated on me several times? And what about Rachel? How had she jus
tified going behind my back? "And it only now occurred to you that I might want to know?"

  "You need a reality check. We have the rest of our lives to be committed. Right now, life is about having fun."

  Is that what Calvin told himself while kissing Rachel? That having fun overrode his commitment to me? And how had Rachel justified her actions? I couldn't wait to ask her. Scratch my earlier plans. There was no way I was hooking up with Calvin over spring break.

  "Dinner's ready!" Shaun hollered from the kitchen.

  Korbie grabbed my sleeve before I could march out of the bathroom. "I have dibs," she repeated more firmly.

  I glanced down at where her fingers curled tightly into my shirt.

  "You only want him because I do," she went on, irrationally angry. "You always want what I have. And it's tiring. Stop being so fake. Stop trying to be me."

  Her words burned, but not because they were true. I hated when she turned on me like this. At these moments, our relationship seemed so dysfunctional, I questioned why we even stayed friends. I almost brought up the secret list in her diary--almost asked, if I was trying so hard to be her, why was she taking note of every little thing I did, said, and had, and making sure to top it? But doing so would mean admitting I'd looked in her diary, and I had more pride than that. Plus, if I revealed I knew her secret, she'd make sure I never got a chance to look in her diary again, and I wasn't going to forfeit that opportunity just yet.

  I pulled on a patient smile, knowing it would infuriate her. She wanted to drag me into a fight so I'd spend the night sulking, and I wasn't going to lose this game. I was going to flirt my ass off with Shaun. "I think we should go to dinner; the boys are waiting," I said in a light, unruffled tone. I left the bathroom ahead of Korbie.

  Before I reached the kitchen, I heard Shaun and Mason arguing in low, tense voices.

  "What were you thinking? Are you even thinking?" Mason demanded.

  "I've got everything under control."

  "Under control? Are you serious? Take a look around, man."

  "I'm gonna get us off this mountain. We're fine. I've got this."

  "No one wants off this mountain more than me," Mason hissed.

  Shaun chuckled. "You're stuck with me, buddy. Damn unlucky weather. Whatcha gonna do?"

  I frowned, wondering what exactly they were arguing over, but neither one said more on the subject.

  Mason didn't join us for dinner. He retreated to the far side of the kitchen, propping one shoulder on the window frame and shifting his steely gaze between the three of us. He looked almost as morose as the stuffed buck head hanging over the mantle in the den. Every few minutes he raked his hand through his short hair, or rubbed the back of his neck, but otherwise he kept his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. Shadows pooled in the hollows of his eyes, but I couldn't decide if they were from fatigue or worry. I didn't know why he was so upset, or why he didn't like having Korbie and me in the cabin, but it was clear he wanted us gone. If Shaun weren't here, he'd probably boot us out. Right into the storm. At that moment, he looked up and found me staring at him.

  He gave a subtle shake of his head. I didn't know what it meant. If he had something to tell me, why didn't he come right out and say it?

  "Hungry, Ace?" Shaun asked him. Shaun placed bowls, spoons, and napkins on the table, then began opening cabinet doors and drawers at random. It struck me as odd that he didn't know his way around his own kitchen. Then again, my brother, Ian, was always hunting for kitchen utensils, and we'd lived in the same house our whole lives. At last Shaun found what he was looking for: He pulled a trivet from the drawer beside the oven and laid it at the center of the table.

  Mason, who'd been peering out the window into the darkness, dropped the curtain. "No."

  "More for us," Korbie said. I could tell she didn't like Mason. I didn't blame her. He'd hardly said anything, and his expression--when he had one--fell somewhere between sullen and menacing.

  "Still snowing?" Shaun asked him.

  "Heavily."

  "Well, it can't go on forever."

  Shaun ladled chili into three bowls, and the moment he sat down, Korbie plopped herself in the chair next to him. "So," she said to Shaun. "What are you boys doing up here? You never told us."

  "Skiing."

  "The whole week?"

  "That's the plan."

  "But you didn't bring any food. I looked in the fridge. It's empty. Not even milk."

  Shaun shoveled a spoonful of chili into his mouth. He grimaced. "This is the worst chili I've ever had. Tastes like rust."

  Korbie took a bite and made a face. "No, it tastes like sand. It's gritty. Did you check when the cans expired?"

  Shaun gave an aggravated snort. "Beggars can't be choosers."

  She pushed the bowl away. "Well, I'd rather starve than eat that."

  "It can't be that bad," Mason said, and we all looked up. Mason's eyes flickered warily between Shaun and Korbie, like he anticipated something bad was about to happen.

  "Says the guy who hasn't tried it," Korbie returned snidely. "I'd give anything for a fillet of salmon right now. My family always eats salmon at our cabin. Salmon with jasmine rice and steamed green beans. In the summer we eat salmon with arugula and pine nuts. Sometimes my mom makes this incredible mango chutney to go with it."

  "Well, go on," Shaun said, setting his spoon down harder than necessary. "Tell us what you had to drink, and what you ate for dessert."

  "Are you making fun of me?" she said, pouting.

  "Just eat the chili," Mason said from across the room, and I wondered why he'd gotten involved. He'd made it clear he wanted nothing to do with us. There had to be a long list of things he'd rather be doing than skulking around the dinner table.

  "The botulism risk is looking pretty high," Korbie said snobbishly. "I'll pass. This is what you get for asking Britt to cook with you. I warned you she's awful in the kitchen."

  Shaun chuckled under his breath, but it seemed to carry a harsh undertone. I was sure I'd imagined it until he said in a stiff, eerie voice, "Don't be ungrateful, Korbie."

  "I see how it is. You can make fun of the chili but I can't? Isn't that kind of shallow?" Korbie teased him. "Besides, I was blaming Britt."

  "Eat the damn chili." The soft, threatening way Shaun said it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

  "This is why you should have brought fresh food," Korbie said, turning up her nose.

  "Give him a break," I murmured to Korbie, who was evidently still bemused and not feeling the tense charge in the air.

  "If we wake up with stomach cramps in the middle of the night, we'll know who to blame," she said, eyeing me blackly. I wasn't sure Korbie understood that even though she was targeting me, she was inadvertently being rude and ungrateful to Shaun. And it was clearly digging under his skin. I wished she'd get over her anger at me long enough to see that she was making things very strained for everyone.

  I glanced at Shaun. His face had transformed to rigid angles, his blue eyes snapping. I squirmed in my seat. My heart beat faster, but I was more uncertain than afraid. Again, that feeling that something wasn't right. The whole room felt alive with voltage, but surely Shaun wasn't upset over the insults. That was just Korbie. She never knew when to shut her mouth. And even when she did know better, it didn't stop her--her mouth was on autopilot. She had to have the final say. Hadn't he figured that out by now?

  "Give me the chili," Mason said, striding over and breaking the tension that seemed to crackle around the table like electricity. He scooped up Korbie's bowl, but not before giving her a dark, berating look.

  Korbie blinked at him, too stunned to respond.

  After a moment, Shaun tipped his chair back on its hind legs and laced his fingers behind his head. He grinned at us in turn, as if nothing had happened. "Ace, I think we should probably get down to business."

  "If we're talking about washing dishes, I'm out," Korbie said. "I vote Mase the Ace does them," she added with a vengeful glitter in
her eyes. "He seems quite enamored with my bowl. He's cradling it almost affectionately in his hands. Let him play out his romantic fantasy a couple more minutes. You like them when they don't talk back, right, Ace? You like them about as mannered and conversational as yourself?"

  I snickered behind my hand. Partially out of nervousness, and partially to defuse whatever was going on. The tension in the air was thick enough to touch.

  "What gear did you bring?"

  It took me a moment to realize Mason was addressing me. He'd carried Korbie's bowl to the sink, and had asked the question without bothering to turn around and face me.

  "Your car. What gear did you pack?" he repeated. "What did you bring to the mountains?"

  "Why?" I didn't see what our gear had to do with anything.

  "Sleeping bags, tents, nonperishable food? Anything useful?"

  "Useful to who? You already have a furnished cabin."

  "We have sleeping bags, a tent, first aid, and some food," Korbie said. "But everything's stuck in the car. Which is stuck in the road. Which is why we came here." She spoke each word slowly, implying that we'd already gone over this and Mason wasn't very quick on the draw.

  Ignoring Korbie, Mason asked me, "Matches?"

  "No, a fire starter."

  "Compass and map?"

  "Compass." For whatever reason, I left Calvin's map out. It was still tucked in my back pocket.

  "Flashlights?"

  "Yes, and headlamps."

  "Ice axe?"

  "No." I'd thought about bringing one, but didn't think I'd get a chance to use it--not with Korbie's definition of backpacking.

  "Why does any of this matter?" Korbie interjected, exasperated.

  "Because," Shaun said, rising to his feet, "Ace and I are stuck here too, waiting out the storm. Only we didn't bring gear, because we didn't plan on staying long. If we're going to get out of here before the snow melts and the roads clear, we'll need your gear. And that's exactly what we're going to do--get off this damn mountain as soon as possible."

  It took me a minute to register that the object he pulled from the waistband of his jeans was a gun. He waved it indolently at me, and a strange urge to laugh bubbled in my throat. The picture I was seeing and the picture in my mind weren't matching up. A gun. Pointed at me. The reality of it floated just out of reach.

  "Shaun?" I asked, believing this had to be a joke, his quirky sense of humor.

  He didn't acknowledge me.