Kyler
Coasting over the snow, I cursed under my breath. Way too much time had passed since I’d left for the lodge. Syd probably thought Bigfoot or something had eaten me. I hadn’t intended on taking so long. Good news was that I learned that progress had already been made on the town’s roads, and the main ones were clear enough for slow traffic.
Man, my head was still spinning from what’d happened when Sasha had strolled into the lodge. It solidified two age-old sayings—the past always comes back to bite you in the ass, and no good deed goes unpunished.
Jesus. H. Christ.
All I wanted to do was gather Syd up and get as far away from here as possible. Coasting to a stop beside the other snowmobile, I frowned. What the hell was that doing out? Had Syd gone somewhere and come back?
Irritation bit deep as I turned the engine off. Goddamn it, would she ever listen to me? The last thing I wanted was her running around by herself, especially after what I’d learned from Sasha.
Fucking Zach—fucking redneck, backwoods asshole—had been behind the shit going on at the house. Apparently, he’d busted out a couple of her windows too. That little punk still couldn’t get past the fact Sasha had moved on. You’d think by the way Zach acted over a year later that Sasha had the golden vagina or something. Shit.
It took everything in my power not to find my way to where Zach lived and beat the living shit out of him. His screwed-up obsession with Sasha could’ve gotten Syd hurt—or worse.
It would’ve been your fault, whispered an insidious voice.
Fuck. That was true.
Whipping my helmet off, I hopped off the snowmobile just as someone came running out from under the half-closed garage door.
First thought: What the fuck?
Second thought: Fucker was wearing a ski mask and was coming out of my house, where Syd was? Oh hell-to-the-motherfucking no.
Throwing the helmet down, I caught the son of a bitch around the waist as he tried to dart around the house. I took him down in the snow, planting my knee in the dude’s stomach.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded, gripping the guy by the shoulders. “Answer me!”
The man held up his hands. “I don’t have nothing to do with this. I swear. He said he just wanted to fuck with the house and your car. That was—”
Grabbing hold of the edges of the ski mask, I yanked it up over the fucker’s head. It was one of Zach’s cronies. He’d been at the bar a few nights back. Without even thinking twice, I slammed my fist into the guy’s face. “Where is he?”
The guy looked like he was about to piss himself as he jerked his chin toward the garage. His bloody lips trembled.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to go this far, but Zach, man, he hates you for that shit with Sasha. He’s inside, man.”
I went stock-still for a second. It was like the world had just fucking crashed on top of me. Fear exploded in the back of my throat and it tasted like I’d swallowed a mouthful of blood.
Springing off the douche, I tore through the snow and skidded across the cement. I hit the side of my SUV and rebounded. My head shut down as I flew through the open door, my eyes scanning the room for Syd.
Footfalls thudded upstairs and a cry rang out, stopping my heart. Shit, that sounded like Syd. Oh, my God, that sounded like her. My hands were already forming fists and pure rage boiled my blood, turning to ice at the sound of a fucking gunshot from above. Oh, God—Syd. If she was hurt, I swore to fucking God, I’d kill the bastard. There’d be no stopping me.
Racing around the pool table, I made a beeline for the stairwell as feet pounded over the floor above and down the stairs. A second later, another fucker in a ski mask rushed out of the dark stairwell, drawing up short when he saw me. I knew it was Zach. It was his build. Half of his face showed through the torn, lower half of the ski mask. My gaze dropped to his hands. There was blood all over them.
I fucking lost it.
Launching myself across the room, I slammed into Zack and took him down. Punk-ass swung on me, but I dodged the strike. Grabbing the collar of his sweater, I pulled him up by one hand. My arm swung back and shot forward, connecting with his jaw. Once. Twice. Three times. He didn’t get one punch in. Fuck, no. The blows blurred into blood, split skin, and flares of dull pain. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to pummel him into an early grave, but when Zach’s head flopped back on his neck, I dropped him on the floor and forced myself to stand.
My hands were shaking, knuckles busted and raw.
Taking the next breath was hard, but not as hard as it was to step back from Zach. The only thing that made me do it was that I needed to get to Syd. Gunshot—oh, God. If she was hurt or…I would never forgive myself. It was as simple as that. I shouldn’t have left her here alone.
As I stepped over Zach, he rolled onto his side, moaning. I resisted the urge to kick him upside the head. Racing up the stairs, my heart was throwing itself against my ribs. “Syd!” I thought I yelled, but I choked on her name, choked on the possibility of what could’ve happened to her.
Barreling through the half-closed door, I skidded to a halt when I saw her.
She was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, staring at the dying fire, her arms wrapped around her waist. Dark hair fell forward, shielding her face. My stepdad’s shotgun lay across her knees.
“Sydney?”
I walked around, easing my hands open. Stopping in front of her, I knelt and felt my heart crack. Splinter. The collar around her neck was torn, the skin along her chin red and blotchy. Her lower lip was split and an angry red. Fury slammed into me with sickening force. I wanted to go back downstairs and beat Zach into a nice little head injury.
“Syd, baby, look at me.” I reached out to her, wanting to pull her into my arms, needing to do so.
“Don’t.” She jerked away and stood, clutching the gun and backing up rapidly. “Don’t touch me.”