Crash Into You (33 page)

“Is this a joke?”

Mark didn’t answer.

The terrible silence on the other end seemed to protract out forever.  Eventually Fraller grumbled, “Okay.  I’ll put it together.   It will be waiting for you at the Signature Lounge.”

Aimee sat silently in the passenger seat as Seth drove the dark highway toward Jubilee Mountain.  Funny, she had always been so scared of the dark, and night in general.  But now that the worst had happened, she was no longer afraid of things she could not name.  She was afraid of concrete ideas, actual threats.

             
She squinted as they approached a road sign reading Jubilee Mountain.  Seth’s profile was as angry and cruel as she’d ever seen.  Her resolve wobbled for a moment.   The old panic flashed into her mind.  She could keep going, just submit to whatever hell Seth had designed for her.   That was known, and that would in some ways be easier than forging ahead with her plan, which was pitted with uncertainty.

             
She thought of Mark and her life at Spanner Ranch, and the doubts vanished instantly.  “Here,” she said, pointing to the sign. “Turn left.”

             
Wordlessly, he turned into the smaller road.   They passed the little convenience shop where Mark bought condoms, but it was dark and shuttered now.   For the rest of the way to the resort, there would be no opportunity for escape or rescue.  She took in a silent, deep breath, steeling herself.  

Aimee directed him through the narrowing roads to the hulking main building of the resort.   She thought of the bear that had chased her and May out of the house.   Her heart swelled with pride at the memory of Mark using his wits to get all three of them out of danger.  Now she would try to repay that favor.

             
Aimee led Seth through the kitchen door into the vast dark, silent reception area.   Moonlight poured through the windows, lighting the old desk, the stained carpet and the lovely old staircase.

             
“It’s fucking cold in here,” Seth groused.   “And where is a fucking light switch?”

             
“Lights are over there,” she said, indicating the area behind the long reception desk.    A few sconces came on, barely illuminating the reception.   Aimee sat down in an old puce chair, and waited.

             
“Where is the money?” Seth asked.  He seemed relaxed, even jovial.   Aimee supposed it was possible he had finally lost his mind.  

             
“At the Whitefish Shopping Center,” she answered dully.

             
He looked at her closely.  “Really?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“How close is Whitefish?”

             
“About seventy miles from here.”

             
He seemed puzzled by her candor.   He sat down across from her, putting up his ankles on a rickety old table between them and stared at her.   “You look different.”

             
Aimee shrugged.   Her mind was a million miles away from all this.  She was thinking of the first time she saw this resort, how awed she had been at the possibilities.  She’d wanted to see it all spiffed up.   Even if she never saw it, she would be happy knowing Mark had accomplished his goal.

             
She felt herself on the verge of tears and slammed down on those emotions. There was no way she was going to allow herself to tear up in front of Seth.

             
“So we’re just waiting here until the shopping center opens?” Seth grumbled.

             
“No.  I’m going to call Mark and he’s going to get the cash.”

             
“You seem to think you’re calling the shots,” he said.  His face was suddenly serious, ease that had been in his manner was gone now.  He had always been that way, she remembered.  Mercurial.  Crazy.

             
“Do you really think I’m going to take you to a public place with hundreds, if not thousands, of people and not try to escape you?  Do you really want a scene?  Because that’s what you’ll get if you force me to take you to it.”

His eyes slit at her.  She met his gaze squarely.    Then he laughed.   “So you think your boyfriend is going to bring me the money, then  I’ll just let y’all go and it will all be even?  Because I assure it, we won’t be.”

She stood up and walked to the reception desk.  She hoisted herself up and swung her legs.   Glancing around, she noticed the glow of the red light in the darkness.  A phone.  And it appeared to be live.

Just that second, the phone began to ring.   Aimee jumped, but quickly grabbed it.  Seth was already charging toward her.

“Hello?”

“Aimee, he has you, doesn’t he?”

Relief flooded through her at the sound of Mark’s voice.  “Yes.”

Seth grabbed the phone out of her hand.   “Listen here, you motherfucker.”

“Seth, give me the phone,” Aimee said with a calmness she did not feel.  “If I don’t talk to him, I can’t tell him where to get the cash.”

Seth thrust the phone back at her.   His face was twisted into a grimace of pure hate.

“Aimee?”

“I’m here.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, watching Seth.  He could be like a snake and attack at any moment.    “I have to tell you something.  I stole some money.   I took it from Seth.  I need you to get it and bring here to the resort.”

              “I’m still four hours away.  I’m in the air.” 

             
The fact that he didn’t even seem phased just cut her to the bone.  He was focused entirely on how to help her.  “I’ll be fine until you get here,” she said.

             
“I’ll call as soon as I land.  I love you.”

             
“I love you,” she said.

             
Seth grabbed the phone and slammed it down.    “How did he know you’re here?  Do you have some tracking device?”

             
She shook her head.  “He’s not like you, Seth.  He doesn’t track me everywhere I go.  I imagine he probably called the house and when I didn’t answer, a police officer did.  That cop we passed on the road probably told him his windows had been shot out and his dog was locked in the garage.  From there he probably figured out that you were in town, and that you might have absconded with me to the resort.”

             
He slapped her so suddenly and with such force that her head snapped back.  She slid off the reception counter and stood a distance from him.  “If you hurt me, you’re not getting your money.”

             
The dignity in her voice surprised her.  It might have surprised Seth too.  He shook out his fists and walked away.

Aimee fell into an uneasy snooze in one of the big comfy chairs and awoke when the sun began to shine through the windows.

              Slitting her eyes open, she saw that Seth was at the staircase, drinking from a bottle of whiskey.   He must have found it in the kitchen, which meant it must have been very old.  She rather enjoyed the thought of Seth being so desperate to calm himself that he was forced to drink rancid whiskey at seven o’clock in the morning.             

             
She stretched and stood up, stiff from being in the same position for so long.  The ringing phone shot a slug of adrenaline through her.  She ran for it and grabbed it.

             
“Hello?”

             
“I’m on the ground,” Mark said.  “Where is the money?”

             
She looked over at Seth, who was walking toward her.  “The money is in a locker at the Whitefish Shopping Center.   In the women’s changing room at the ice rink.  The key to the locker is in the second drawer of my dresser.”

             
“Your dresser?”

             
Aimee’s throat stung with unshed tears.  “The dresser in the guest bedroom.”

             
“What’s the locker number?”

             
“It’s on the key itself.”

             
Seth grabbed the phone from her.  “If I don’t hear from you in an hour,  Aimee’s dead.  Do you understand that?”

             
Aimee shut her eyes.  It was déjà vu all over again.   How had she run so far, so fast, and ended up exactly where she’d begun, with Seth lording over her, determining where she went, whether she lived or died?  It was unbearable.  To think she’d lived with this man, had shared his house and his bed, and he was willing to kill her over money.  It didn’t even hurt to recognize that she meant less to him than money.  It just made everything so clear.  How right she had been to leave.  He was an island that must be stranded.  She was going to swim for the first boat on the horizon.

             
Seth put down the phone.   He looked at her with glowing, malevolent eyes that bore into her.   “You’re sleeping with that guy?”

             
“None of your business.”

             
The slap across the face was so powerful she literally saw stars.   She stumbled backward, catching herself on the stairwell banister, and slid down to the first step.   It didn’t even hurt because she understood it was just his nature.  He was like that grizzly bear that had loped in on her and Mark and May that day, predatory and hungry and confused.    She held no sympathy for him, but she no longer hated him.   He’d beaten the hate right out of her.   She just felt revulsion for him, that he’d never quite joined the human race.

             
Her narrowed eyes stared out the large windows at Jubilee Mountain.   It was much more pleasant than watching Seth’s anger foment and bubble over. 

             
“How long does it take for him to get to the ice rink?”

             
“About an hour,” she replied, and regretted it.  She should have given him more time.   She was no good at thinking on the fly.  Mark was cool under pressure, calm and reliant and strong.  She, however, vibrated at a very high frequency.   Too nervous, too open, too everything to be really cool.

             
The image of Mark filled her mind, her heart, even her body.  She could feel an impression of him against her, inside her, like he’d branded her very soul.   How would she ever make this okay?  She couldn’t.  It was just the end of things and she had to be the Alpha Girl and
just fucking handle it
.

             
Seth picked up the bottle of whisky and opened it, throwing the cap down on the reception desk.   He took a deep swallow.   

             
“Want some?” he asked.  His eyes were glittering.  Daring her.   Or daring her not to.

             
She shook her head. 

             
“It’ll help with the pain.”

             
Her cheek still throbbed where he’d struck her twice, but she didn’t want or need his kind of medication.

             
He laughed bitterly.  “You left me to sleep with that guy,” he said, then laughed again.  It was an eerie sound.   Hysterical.   “The problem with you is that you’re a money hungry bitch.   You can take comfort that it is a universal trait among your gender.   You want money and that’s the only thing you care about.  He had the big house, the big family name… and you had my money.”

             
She glanced at her with that accusing stare.  She didn’t want to risk saying anything that would set him off again.

             
“I did everything for you!” He shouted suddenly. 

He took a step toward her, crowding her against the cold window.  “You ungrateful bitch,” he growled, breath stinking of whiskey.  

              His reddened face was so close to hers, she thought he might try to kiss her.    She drew herself back to put some space between them and he laughed again.   “One hour,” he said suddenly.  “What should we do for an hour?”

             
He reached out and grasped her breast.  Instinctively, she pulled back, swatting his hands away.

             
“Saving it for him?” he asked.  Holding the whisky bottle by the neck, he lifted it and took another long pull. 

Mark flung open the doors of the mall, his focus narrowed to his mission.  It was strange how the layout of the mall floated up from a bundle of suppressed memories from his high school days.   Ancient muscle memory guided him to the main floor.  He took a sharp left, striding past the food court to a corridor of brightly lit women’s boutiques that led to the railing, where people could watch the ice skaters below.  Mark walked down the steps, and to small office front.   A rather dazed looking woman glanced up but didn’t say anything as he breezed past.

             
He pushed open the door to the women’s changing room, relieved it was empty.  Mark’s shaking fingers got the key in the lock.  He flung it open and grabbed the bag.