Page 27

Chapter 27

Ford

“April?” I can’t hear anything.

Every ounce of fear and rage pushes into my roar. “April! Answer me!” Wind howls over my words, spooking a flock of magpies from the nearby trees.

Their rush of wings flurry around us, pinning Pepper’s ears, sending her bucking beneath me.

Clinging to the phone, I fight her with one hand to try and rip the reins to the side and force her head to turn.

With a massive whip of her neck, she jerks the leather straps from my cold fingers and dips her nose, throwing her ass into the air.

And me.

I’m weightless until I’m not, landing in a heavy bank of snow softens the blow.

“Fuck, Pepper. Of all the times you could be a pain in the ass…”

Shit.

Where’s the cell?

I don’t even care about my horse who’s still kicking up her hooves and dancing away from me. I know she’ll wear herself out and come back.

But I need that damn phone.

Frantically, I start running my freezing hands through the turned up powder, desperate to find it.

“No, no, no.” Did I look there already?

In an expanding circle, my arms are so numb I don’t even know if I’d feel it if I did find it.

Roscoe joins me, but it entails randomly pawing at the crusted ice chunks and then running in a frenzied loop around us.

My stomach is in knots.

April is in danger, and I was too chicken shit to go back with her.

I should be there protecting her.

Instead I’m wallowing on the ground like a fucking pig looking for an acorn.

My heart races as the crushing truth begins to surface.

I’ve lost her.

They probably have her already.

And they’ll never let her leave alive.

Rocking back on my heels, I let loose another agonizing cry that echoes off the hills and makes Roscoe stop to bark with me.

Why her?

She doesn’t deserve it.

Nobody does, but especially her.

A person can only handle so much before they break.

Is that what this is? Me sobbing into the frozen earth at my utter failure?

Because that’s what I am, futile.

Worthless.

I can’t save anyone. I must be cursed to watch the ones I love die around me.

Carolyn. Sarah. And now, April.

But still I sift, hoping beyond any possible scope of success that my fucking lifeline to her turns up.

Pepper must take pity on me. She slowly trots closer, her nose low as she watches me.

Only a few feet away, her foot lands on something with a loud crunch.

Any chance of salvation is destroyed as the two pieces of the broken satellite phone appear out of her step.

She sidetracks when I rush forward, skirting past me on the trail.

The antenna is only connected by a brittle piece of plastic, and the screen is shattered.

Ruined.

Like my chances of ever seeing April again.

My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and tears freeze on my cheeks.

But I can’t move.

I lost everything before I even knew I was in the game.

Nausea bubbles in me until I’m violently retching the last of my humanity into the unforgiving snow.

This world just loves to kick my legs out from under me whenever I find a flicker of hope to stand.

I’m tired of fighting.

Stuffing the mangled remains, the token of grief, into my pocket, I manage to pull myself up and catch the reins to my mare.

At least she stands for me to mount up.

Slumping in the saddle, I let my thoughts drift over the last good memories I have of April.

The sound of her throaty moans. Her drift of a smile.

And the lingering scent of her that has married itself to my clothes.

One last reminder of what I let slip through my fingers.

I bury my nose in the thick wool lining of my coat before I hop off to take care of Pepper.

Sawyer will be here in the morning, but I give her an extra scoop of grain.

April would want that.

My hands shake as I top off Roscoe’s dish.

“Say ‘hi’ to Sawyer for me.” Idly, I let my fingers stray over the dog’s gray ears, picturing April clinging to him. “You’ve been a good boy, but you need to stay here now.”

Weakness in my limbs makes every movement feel like I’m under water.

It might be because I just don’t want to breathe anymore.

Every single one makes my chest tighten, knowing she’ll never get another.

The pain ripping me apart I’d bear a million times over if I could just hear her one more time.

I hope those monsters didn’t let her suffer.

And I’ve learned that revenge doesn’t ease the agony.

There’s only one way for that to happen.

Hanging up my coat, I glance back to see Roscoe tilt his head as he watches me leave.

“Bye, buddy.” I step into the cold, crisp sun, then shut the door.