Page 67 of Mountain Challenge

Ry’s coat smelled of him—it smelled of fresh air and sun and freedom, of everything she’d been missing over the last … how long had it been since they were taken? How long had she and Laura been stuck in this room? An eternity, it seemed.

She pulled the winter jacket tighter around her body, delighting in its warmth, and leaned into Ry’s body beside her. She’d insisted she wanted to walk—it’d felt important to walk out on her own two feet, somehow—but even climbing those stairs had exhausted her, and now she wondered if she was going to make it.

You have no choice. Laura needs a hospital.

Isla put one foot in front of the other, following Ry’s lead, taking courage in the knowledge that he wouldn’t let her fall. But the closer the front door loomed, the more her fear grew, until it was larger than her, larger than life.

She looked up and immediately regretted doing so.Bones. There were bones everywhere up here, eerie trophies from hunts long past. Where other people might have family photos, the mantelpiece was lined with skulls instead, all of them stripped clean and polished. On top of the front door hung an enormous rack of antlers. Isla could almost feel the animal spirits all around them. She needed to draw strength from them.Please help us.

Ry propelled her towards the front door. Outside, the storm raged, and as much as she hated this house, the thought of going outside—who was she kidding—the thought thathemight be waiting outside for them … filled her with dread. She could still feel his hands on her breasts, still hear that deep, raspy voice as he’d told her in horrifying detail everything he wanted to do to her. In her panic, she tripped, and only Ry’s arms around her kept her from hitting the rug made of animal hide.

“You can’t walk barefoot onto the snow, Isla,” Ry whispered, lifting her in his strong arms. Hugo and Ry exchanged a quick glance. It took her a moment to understand they were listening to something on their ear piece. “Beau made it,” Ry said. “He got a message out to the team. They’re on their way.”

Relief made her weak. Isla allowed herself that moment of weakness and nestled in against Ry.Maybe everything’s going to be okay. Except the men weren’t saying that.Why aren't they saying that?Something was wrong, and Isla was done being kept in the dark. “What’s wrong?”

Again, another long look passed between the two men. It was Ry who finally replied. “Beau hasn’t found any trace of Getty. We should stay indoors until Tristan gets here.”

Isla shivered, trying not to let her apprehension show, but Ry read it in her eyes, anyway. “We’re safe here, Isla. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” Something dark swirled inhis eyes—something that looked like pain and guilt.What is that about?

Something dark dripped down his shoulder. “I hurt you,” Isla said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“With the back of a spoon.” He smiled, looking inordinately pleased. “I’m okay.”

Still huddling inside Ry’s jacket, she sat down on an armchair. Hugo brought Laura to the couch and gently lay her flat. Laura struggled briefly as he let her go, her expression pained, before settling into unconsciousness again.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Impaired consciousness. She needs a hospital and a CT scan. There’s nothing we can do for her here, except keep her hydrated and warm,” he said, placing a ratty couch blanket over her.At least it’s not made of animal hide.

Warm. Isla had never considered the wonder of the word. It had been so cold down in the room—cold enough she’d wondered if she and Laura would simply freeze to death. Though freezing might have been a preferable alternative to what the man had planned for her.

“I’ll get some water,” Hugo said, turning away.

Ry kneeled between the couch and the armchair Isla was sitting on. He took her hands in his, in silent reassurance. She squeezed back, needing him to know how much it meant to her. That he’d come for her. That he understood so much about what she was feeling.

“Isla, there’s something I need to?—“

Suddenly, a deep rumble echoed through the air. At first, she thought it was just the wind picking up. But it was too loud. Her heart soared.The helicopter. Then her heart simply stopped, as the sound grew louder and more distinct, transforming into the roar of an engine. Isla stared—transfixed—as the sound beyond the cabin wall moved closer.

“Isla!” Ry shouted. He was on his feet, pushing backwards onto the couch that Laura was lying on, turning it on his side so its feet poked up. Laura’s body rolled with it, so she was now lying on the back cushions instead. Then Ry was back by Isla’s side, grabbing her bodily against him and diving for the couch. They didn’t make it.

The wall to the living room exploded inwards in a thunderous crash, old timber and stone bursting apart at the seams as the powerful force slammed through. Splinters and shard of bone trophies flew across the room towards them. Ry threw his arms around Isla, pulling her down to the ground and covering her with his own body.

His weight on top of her made it hard to breathe. Isla turned her head—the only part of her she could still move—because she had tosee.For a moment, couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. The storm was inside with them now, what used to be the wall now a gaping hole into the night, a monstrous vehicle where the wall used to be.A snow blower, her mind corrected. She almost laughed at the precision.Is killed by a snow blower better than killed by a monstrous vehicle?

The snow blower’s engine growled. Steam and snow billowed from the vents and all around them. And on top of it sat Getty—looking bigger than ever, his face twisted in a snarl of satisfied rage. His cold blue eyes scanned the room, searching.For us.

“Stay down,” Ry whispered, and Isla realized Miles couldn’t see them for the rubble.

And then he saw them. His face lit up like a child’s at Christmas. “You thought you could hide from me?” he shouted. “I’ll tear this place apart with you in it.” He revved the engine and moved forward, the huge machine tearing through old wood like paper, heading straight towards them.He’s going to crush us.

She looked up into Ry’s eyes, and saw the desperation there as he looked towards the couch where Laura lay. He couldn’t get to both of them, and it was killing him. Isla pushed at his chest, but it was futile, he was an unmovable rock.

Then everything happened at once, too fast for her to comprehend. Hugo raced towards them from the kitchen, shouting something. And then she was up in Ry’s arms, and he was running at breakneck speed towards the back of the house, Hugo right behind them, rushing to the couch to pick Laura up.

Ry pulled up behind the kitchen wall and looked back, still holding tightly onto her. Isla held her breath as Hugo sprinted towards them with Laura in his arms. Behind them—too close and getting closer—the machine surged, splintering wood and shattering furniture as it went.They’re not going to make it.

“He’s got a gun!” Ry shouted at Hugo. The first shot was deafening—louder than the machine, louder than the storm. Hugo looked back—no, don’t look back—and threw himself onto the ground, curling his body around Laura. The second shot was just as loud and thumped into something fleshy. Hugo groaned.

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