Page 94 of Whiteout

Thankful the moon was hidden behind a thick veil of clouds, she scurried through the snow to the caretaker’s cottage and pounded on the door. But Ted wasn’t there. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot came from the house. Sinking to her knees, Breanna glanced up at her bedroom window and covered her mouth to stifle her scream.

Please be okay, baby. Please be okay. Please, please, please.

She couldn’t stay here.

Ted had to be in the garage. She ran toward it.

Under the porte-cochère, the fucker’s Jag blocked her car in. Breanna couldn’t have gotten away even if she had brought her keys.

Locked tight, the garage door wouldn’t budge. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the numbers Sinjin punched into the keypad the day he showed her the mountain, but she couldn’t. Banging on the door could be a risk. Someone might hear it, but desperately, Breanna banged, anyway. It was a wasted attempt. No one answered. Wearing only a hoodie, her knit booties sopping, she sagged against the door, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Frozen to the bone, uncontrollably shaking, Breanna tried to think. The cabin was too far, not that she’d find it in the dark with only the sobbing gurgle of the mountain stream to guide her. Should she sneak back inside the house? Surely, she could find a place to hide until Jordy got there. Because she certainly would not make it out here.

As Breanna doubled back the way she came, footsteps crunched on the icy walk.

Shit!

Ducking behind her car, she prayed it wasn’t locked.

“I know you’re out here, Breanna.” Derek laughed, and it was eerie. “I’m going to find you, sweetheart. You left me your footprints in the snow.”

She watched him walk toward the garage and slowly reached for the door handle. As soon as he was far enough past her, she tried opening it. Thank you, God. Sinjin hadn’t locked it. She slipped inside, then quickly and quietly closed the door.

Now what? Her car wasn’t the safest place to hide. He’d only follow the footprints she hadn’t thought to hide—not that she could have, anyway—and find her here.

Makes an excellent weapon should you need one.

“The flashlight.” What did she do with it after Sinjin rescued her? “Please be here.”

She reached inside the glove compartment and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Then, armed with the flashlight ready in her hands, she waited.

A deep breath in.

A slow exhale.

Her gaze darted left and right, then left again, the sound of that gunshot echoing in her head.

Sinjin’s okay.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Where is he then?

Inhale.

Exhale.

Please be okay.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Hurry, Jordy. Please.

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