Chapter 54
The snow beat at him. Fought with him, wrestled with him, shoved him and the SUV, though tons of weight, around, slipping and sliding. Tried to beat him to a bloody pulp, and almost succeeded. But there was no way he was turning back.
Four black icons. Pure black. The fifth just starting to turn dark. Just the thin edge of one side of it, but it was starting. Heavy snowfall. Lengthy snowfall. Cold winds. Horrific temperatures.
He was heading out anyway.
The dog that had kept the woman he loved safe, that knew when she was in trouble and had put his own body in the way of her pain as long as she’d needed it…had been taken.
And was going to suffer the way no animal ever should. Was going to have to fight for his life, and in the end, being older…would lose, blood dripping from wounds.
And even if it hadn’t been for his age, he had no doubt Blaine Westerling would make sure the animal would die. Tonight.
He’d spoken to Dante before he left. “I’m going. I’ve got to get that dog back.”
Dante had flipped. “You can’t, man! It’s too dangerous. The storm’s been upgraded, and it’s bad. You know that. We won’t be leaving this chalet for days. And if that isn’t enough, the guy is certifiable. Plus, he can’t be alone. You can’t go, by yourself.”
Sven had felt the sweat break out on his forehead at the foolhardiness of his decision, but he’d just repeated himself. No other words would come. “I have to, Dante. She…she loves him.”
Though after a scant second or two, understanding had gleamed in Dante’s eyes. “Hey, man. I know you like her. But do you…?”
He’d nodded. “With all my heart.”
Dante had just shaken his head, slowly. “And if you don’t make it back?”
He’d just shrugged. His decision was made, and curiously, it was totally out of his hands. Maybe the mountain he’d lived on all his life was drawing him. He didn’t know. He just knew he had to go.
“Take care of her for me. Until I’m back. And…if I’m not.”
* * *
Now, he gripped the steering wheel tightly as he peered into the blank whiteness. Lucky him, he knew exactly where that cabin was.
Not that that was good. It made everything harder. The cabin—more like a tiny shack—was in an almost inaccessible spot, not that high, but in a spot that was a special hell to get to, or leave—on Terrence Point.
And the fact that it was technically in the prohibited skiing area tonight, with the mountains of snow that had already fallen, on what was likely a weak base? He knew, more than anyone, that just the weight of one body, if conditions were right, could trigger a deadly avalanche.
And anyone caught in it?
If the fates and all the angels and the whole universe wasn’t on his side, and if he wasn’t thrown into a tree or rock at hyper-speed first, to either die or be knocked unconscious, he could be buried way past his head.
He’d never come up and see the light again. He could try to do what the pros called swimming, in a crazy attempt to save his life, but most of the time? Hell. It wasn’t even an option.
He set his mouth in a grim line, hauled the truck back into gear. Thought of the woman he loved, and her heart. Thought of the beast she loved, and its heart.
They both needed someone on their side, tonight.
He drove into the raging snowmaggedon.