Ice Read online

  He dragged it out from behind the lawn chairs, and his heart sank. This wasn’t much of a ladder. For one thing, it wouldn’t reach all the way to Lolly’s window. For another, it was wooden, and it was old. The rungs weren’t in good shape; two were broken, and he wasn’t at all sure any of the others would hold his weight. But Lolly didn’t weigh as much as he did and she was the one who’d be on it, so maybe it would hold together long enough for her to climb down. If not … then he hoped she’d bounce. No, hell, he’d have to catch her, he thought sourly. The way his luck was running, if he didn’t catch her she’d probably fall on him and break his leg, or a few ribs.

  Maybe Lolly had some other way of climbing down—the old sheets-tied-together rope, for instance. If she was making preparations to escape, then she definitely had something in mind. Maybe the ladder wouldn’t be needed. He sure as hell hoped not, because it was a half-rotten death trap.

  But as he was hauling the ladder from the garage to the house, he looked up at the window again and saw Lolly tugging on the window frame with all her might, trying to wrest it open. She stopped, got another grip, and tried again. From what he could see the window hadn’t budged an inch.

  Swearing again, but this time silently, he revised his plan. He’d have to go up and raise the damn window. No matter how she’d planned to get to the ground, she wasn’t going anywhere unless she could get out the window. He sent up a silent prayer. Maybe the ladder would hold together.

  He had to look up to position the ladder and the icy rain felt directly on his face, in his eyes. A sudden gust of wind caught the ladder, almost tearing it from his grip. Getting the ladder propped against the house without making any noise was going to be tricky. Just in case, he mentally ran through the operation: the objective was to get up the ladder without falling and breaking his neck, open the window, get down the ladder without falling and breaking his neck, and position himself beneath the ladder so he could catch Lolly if she fell, so she wouldn’t break her neck. Simple enough.

  Oh, yeah: he had to do all that in something like five seconds flat without making any noise and alerting the two meth addicts in the living room.

  No problem, he thought sarcastically. Piece of cake.

  He stood the ladder up, holding it steady with both hands as he let it drop closer and closer to the house, until it settled below the window with a barely audible thunk. It must have sounded louder inside the house, though, because he saw Lolly jump back from the window as if someone had just smacked the glass. Damn it, the ladder ended a good three feet below the window casing, which meant he’d have to climb all the way to the top to have any leverage opening the window.

  There was no point in delaying, so he firmly gripped the outside of the ladder and began climbing, placing his boots on the outside edges of the rungs, where they were nailed to the frame and less likely to crumble under his weight. In just a few seconds he was standing precariously on the top rung, praying like hell, and staring through the glass at Lolly Helton, who stared at him as if she couldn’t decide whether to scream or faint.

  She didn’t do either, thank God. Instead he saw her lips move, framing his name, then she closed her eyes for a brief second before gathering herself.

  When she opened her eyes again, Gabriel held a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. She nodded, an obvious and telling relief washing across her face.

  She’d managed to raise the window a little, after all. He worked his gloved fingers into the gap and tried to lift upward, but there was only the slightest bit of movement. The window hadn’t been painted stuck, and it wasn’t locked, but the old wood had warped to the point where it might as well have been. Tensing his muscles, he tried again, putting everything he had into the effort and hoping that the howl of the wind would cover the noise he made. The ladder wobbled but he ignored the precariousness of his perch and wrenched at the window again. He had to get Lolly out of the house; if he fell, then he fell. He’d deal with that when it happened.

  On the third try, the window popped free and slid upward with a creaking sound. He shoved and wiggled the frame, gaining another few inches of clearance. The window wasn’t all the way up, but maybe this was enough.

  In a quick glance he took in the room behind her; the bed was stripped, and sure enough one end of a sheet was knotted around the leg. Then he looked at her, and for the first time saw that one side of her face was bruised and swollen. Fury roared through him, swift and deep and startlingly savage. Some asshole abusing a woman pushed all his buttons, but somehow the fact that this was Lolly hit him particularly hard. He reined in his anger, because this wasn’t the time to lose control. He had to get her safely away from here; that was his primary goal. Much as he’d love to take on the jerks downstairs, they were armed and he wasn’t … and right now the weather was damn near as dangerous as two armed, high druggies. His only concern had to be getting Lolly and himself off the mountain. Everything else could wait.

  Besides, he wasn’t going to recklessly put his life in danger when he had a little boy expecting his father to come home. They were probably already missing him, wondering what was taking so long.

  “I saw two in the living room,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Are there more?”

  She shook her head. “Just those two.” Her voice was as low as his.

  He reached through the open window and cupped her bruised cheek in his hand; his glove was cold and wet, and it must have felt good on her face because she made a soft little moan and tilted her head against the leather. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, needing to know if she could make it down the ladder by herself. She’d been getting around okay, but adrenaline could be driving her; he’d seen people do some amazing things when they were riding an adrenaline high.

  “My shoulder and side are bruised, but I’m okay,” she replied in a whisper, squaring her shoulders. She added fiercely, “Let’s get out of here.”

  She had covered as much skin as possible, he saw; even her head and her ears were lightly protected with some folded material, and a flannel shirt tied over that. She’d layered her clothing and judging by the length of sheet in her hand she was making a pretty well-planned escape. If the window hadn’t been stuck, she might’ve been on the ground and well on her way to town by the time he’d found her.

  She dropped the rope of sheets and blankets and started to put one leg out the window. “Wait,” he said, thinking fast. If she tossed the rope out the window and left it hanging, and he put the ladder away after she was down, the assholes downstairs would believe she’d made it out on her own. That way if they were stupid enough to get out in the storm and come after her, they’d be caught by surprise if—or when—they discovered that she was not alone. Just as swiftly he disregarded the plan, because the bottom sheet would be flapping right in front of the dining room window, and might alert them sooner than necessary. He was holding his breath hoping they didn’t see the ladder through the window; at least the aged wood was dark, and not as easily made out as a white sheet would be.

  He surveyed Lolly once more. She’d done the best she could to dress warmly, but the rain would seep right through all those layers, and then she’d be in deep trouble.

  Moving carefully, the rickety ladder wobbling under him, Gabriel removed his poncho and handed it through the window. Lolly took it, then gave him a sharp look. “What about you?”

  “You need it more. At least my coat is weatherproof.” The poncho was covered with ice crystals, but provided much better protection against the rain than what she was wearing. His coat was heavy, he had gloves, and his feet were protected by warm, waterproof boots. The only problem was that the knit cap he wore wasn’t waterproof, like the cap he’d discarded in the truck, but he hadn’t known then he’d be giving the hooded poncho to Lolly. The knit would repel the rain for a while, but eventually his head was going to get wet, and that wasn’t good. When they got to the truck he’d retrieve his cap; he could make it that far without too m