Page 8 of Stuck With Mr. Frosty (Delectable Protectors #5)

MIA

I get up in the morning feeling like it’s the end of the world. There’s a tightness to my chest that I can’t seem to shake, and each time I draw in a breath, it only gets tighter.

Sitting up in bed, I glance out the window. The sun is just starting to creep over the horizon.

It’s the same feeling that’s been following me around for the last few months. The one that says I’m never going to know what to do with my life. I don’t know what to do now that I’ve actually graduated from college with my degree.

Mom, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to about all of this.

Her picture sits on the dresser at the foot of the bed, facing me. Most mornings when I wake up and the sense of dread hits me, seeing her smiling face in the picture is enough to help.

Not today, though.

It’s probably because today is the first day in a week that I have time to think. There’s nowhere I need to be this morning. No classes to teach. No plans with Rosie or June. Ryder is going to spend most of the day working in the kitchen while I sit here and lose myself in my thoughts.

I have to get out of here.

The thought plays on repeat as I toss back the covers and get out of bed, my feet hitting the cold wood floor. The heater in the corner of the room rattles to life.

Rosie isn’t in her bed. It’s still perfectly made, the sheets pulled tight. I don’t know who she went home with last night, but at least one of us had a good time.

Shuffling around the room, I pull out a pair of fleece-lined leggings, hoping that it’s going to be warm enough as I check the weather app. There’s supposed to be some snow later in the day, but for the most part, it should be warm enough for a hike.

After wiggling into the leggings, I pull on a thermal shirt and haul on a hoodie over it. I slip my jacket on before stuffing a small backpack with bottles of water, my first aid kit, and the few supplies I might need if I get lost in the woods.

Not that it’s likely to happen. I used to go on hikes with Mom all the time on her days off.

But I still grab the map and stuff it into the backpack, along with a compass, just in case my phone dies.

A hike is all I need to clear my mind.

Sorting out the rest of my problems is going to take a lot more work than a simple hike through the woods, but it’s at least a start. Something to make me feel like I’m doing something other than nothing.

I step into the kitchen and grab a protein shake and something quick to eat before lacing my boots and heading out the door.

The air is crisp and warm, though there’s a chill to the breeze that moves through the trees. I pull my gloves out of my pockets and yank them on before tugging my hat lower over my ears.

I’m sure it’s only going to be a matter of time before the layers start coming off.

I only start to relax after I’ve left the resort grounds. The trees around me are towering, and the sun is shining brightly. Some of the snow is melting, but the thick layer on the ground still crunches beneath my boots.

As I slip out of my coat, some gray clouds drift across the sky. The sun is only shaded out for a moment or two before it’s shining again. I tilt my head back to the sun, pushing up my sunglasses for a moment and closing my eyes.

“Mom, I don’t know what happens to us when we die, but if you’re up there and watching over me, then you should know that I miss you like crazy.”

I sigh and slip my sunglasses back down, swinging my backpack around to the front of my body. As I stuff the coat inside, the birds are singing. I inhale deeply, and the scent of pine lingers, reminding me of all the years I used to spend out here with her.

Tears burn the corners of my eyes. I wish she was here right now.

She could spend time with me, walking around the forest and taking in the beautiful scenery.

In the off-season she used to paint all the mountains and the rocky outcroppings.

She’d paint the valleys that ran for miles and the slopes that seemed ethereal in the snow.

Everything looks exactly the same as the way she captured it.

I swallow hard, trying to fight the lump in my throat, taking another turn away from the resort, heading for a trail that Mom used to talk about all the time.

“I’m going to do this for you.” I reach for the locket around my neck, holding it tight.

The trail is supposedly one of the hardest, especially in the snow. It isn’t shoveled out, and there are some harsh inclines that are only made worse with ice in the winter. I have some spikes for my boots in my backpack, so that should make it easier.

You shouldn’t go on a new trail alone, Aiden’s voice says in the back of my mind. You should always be prepared for the worst to happen, and someone should have a map of your hike before you set out so the rangers know where to look for you.

I shut out the voice and reach the base of the trail, stopping for long enough to eat a protein bar and drink some water.

If this doesn’t make me feel closer to Mom, I don’t know if there’s anything that will.

Snow falls in fat flakes, and the wind whistles through the trees. I trip over something that catches on my boot, falling to the ground hard, my sunglasses falling off. As I reach for them, more snow sweeps up from the ground with the wind.

I grab the glasses before they can get too far and shove them back on before pushing to my feet.

The bad weather came out of nowhere.

I suck in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the pain in my side. It’s only a little further up the side of the mountain where there should be a cabin I can take refuge in for the rest of the day. At least, I think there is.

If I’m being entirely honest, I’m not quite sure where I am at this point. The map is soaked through, and my phone died a few minutes after I considered turning back to the resort.

Maybe this was all a mistake.

Nope, it wasn’t. I just have to keep telling myself that I have a reason for doing this, even if it seems like a pretty dumb reason right now. I don’t know why I thought I would feel close to Mom here.

I don’t think I’m ever going to feel close to her again.

Slow down, Aiden’s bossy voice says. Think about where you are. Search for any landmarks and leave a sign that you were there.

I’m not lost, I argue with the voice, even though I do think I’m lost.

And it’s getting darker.

I’m going to have to spend the night out here. I only brought a couple thermal blankets and a sleeping bag that zips up over my head. I don’t think I could even get a fire going with the way the snow is falling.

The wind starts howling as the sky turns midnight blue. I think the stars would be starting to show if the clouds weren’t in the sky. I swallow hard, fighting past the sense of terror that traps itself in my throat.

There’s an icy hand squeezing my lungs, making it hard to breathe. My feet keep slipping out from behind me, and as I climb up the slope, there are rocks lining one side of the path. They look jagged and sharp even in the low light.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to hold it together. This isn’t the worst thing to happen to me. That was losing Mom. If I could get through that, then I can get through this.

But as the wind howls louder and snow whips around, blinding me, wolves start to howl in the distance.

A shiver runs down my spine, and though I want to move faster, Aiden’s voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me that it’s important to keep my pace. That I need to conserve my energy.

I take a deep breath and try to still the racing of my heart, but it’s impossible. I didn’t think I would ever be in a position like this, but now that I am, I don’t know how I’m going to get out of it.

Just a little while longer. I just have to keep going for a little while longer.

But I don’t know where I am or what I’m trying to get to anymore.

My boot catches on something again, and I go crashing backward, landing hard on my butt, my head cracking against the ground. Stars dance across my vision and pain ricochets through my body, settling in my ankle.

I groan and sit up even though everything in my body is telling me to stay down with my smushed backpack. I could just spend the rest of the evening on the ground.

If it weren’t for the howling wind.

Or the wolves in the distance.

And then there’s the problem of the snow still coming down in a blinding white sheet, making it hard to see anything around me.

“Please, please, please,” I whisper, trying to ease my ankle out of the rocks it’s caught between. “This can’t be happening right now.”

But it is.

The wind gets colder as I tug at my boot, pulling the laces and trying to get my foot out, but even that doesn’t work. And I don’t want to get my foot wet. The last thing I need is frostbite on my toes.

I stick my foot back in the boot and lace it up tight.

All right, just take a moment to think this through. The worst thing I can do right now is panic.

I take a deep breath and blow it out, trying to slow my racing heart. Everything is going to be fine. I just have to take a moment to breathe.

But even after a couple moments of breathing, I still can’t get my foot out.

And the wolves are getting louder.