Panic has completely set in. I stand to my feet and look frantically around me, throwing off my snowboarding goggles, though it doesn’t help one bit. My chest rises and falls rapidly as my heart rate spikes up about a hundred notches. What do I do, what do I do? In my panicked state, I try to run down the mountain but fall on my behind into the snow, sliding down as I do so. Ok, that did nothing for me. I sit there, my hand to my chest and try to calm my breathing down.

Stop panicking. I tell myself. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I do this again and again until my breathing and heart rate goes back to normal. I put my head in my hands and try to think of what to do. Ok, what did I learn during survival training? Use your emergency kit. Well, I’m out of luck there. No walkie-talkie, no means to get back down the mountain but walk. Except that will take up too much energy, which I will need to survive. Look for shelter. I look around me. White, desolate… nothing. I’m gonna die. Panic threatens to set in again but I fight it. No, you’re not going to die. Just find somewhere, anywhere until the snow stops. Then it dawns on me that someone will figure out that I’m missing and come looking for me, eventually. Though, not in these conditions. The snow needs to stop first.

I look behind me at the fire that used to be my snowmobile. Well, that’s a start. I make my way back towards it and sit not too far from it, the heat from the fire warming me up – for now, at least. I’m not sure how much time I have before the snow puts it out. My stomach grumbles and I realize I haven’t eaten since breakfast, having used my lunch hour to do some runs on the mountain. I wonder what time it is – judging from the slowly setting sun it’s reaching about 6pm. Brian must be worried looking for me. Brian!

I completely forgot. Hurriedly, I reach for my cellphone inside my inner jacket pocket. It’s there! Oh, thank God. I flip it open, excited for some connection to civilization but I’m disappointed when I see that there’s no signal up here. However, sure enough, there are a few messages and missed calls from Brian, Linda, and Mark. I open them one by one.

Head back to the main lodge soon, no one else is up there. That one was from Mark.

Baby, I’m here. Take your time. My heart skips – Brian.

Hey, lover boy is waiting for you at the main lodge. Where are you and Christian? Linda.

Baby, where are you? Everyone is looking for the two of you.

Another one from Linda. Okay, I just saw Christian leave really fast and drive away. You’re still not here. London, I’m not joking, where are you??

Answer your phone! Are you okay? The last one is from Mark.

There are about a dozen missed calls from each of them and I regret not remembering that I had my phone on silent with me all along. I stand to my feet and raise the phone up to the sky, trying to get any form of signal, though I know it’s hopeless up here. I take a few steps forward, back, to the side. Still no signal. I do this for a few more minutes and am just a few feet away from the fire when I get one little bar on the signal line. I’m bursting with excitement as I hurriedly dial Brian’s number, my frozen fingers not pressing the buttons fast enough.

He answers on the first ring. “Baby!” His voice is filled with relief and panic all in one. “Where the fuck are you? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m stranded up in the mountains!” The other line crackles. Shit, I’m losing signal fast. “I’m okay, I just don’t know where I am.”

“Fuck!” I hear a few voices in the background, one of them belonging to Linda. “Listen baby, sit tight okay?” His voice starts to cut out. “We’re… main lodge, we’re trying to get a heli- … conditions are too bad… visibility… so worried… I-“

Just like that, his voice is gone. I look at my phone; no signal. Fuck! I try walking again, angling my phone this way and that but to no avail. It’s hopeless. Sighing heavily, I go back to my spot in front of the now dying fire… and wait.

-

The snow doesn’t let up for at least a couple of hours, or so I’m guessing. It’s feeling like an eternity, especially after the fire has completely died out. I’m now trying to warm myself up by burying my face inside my jacket and covering every inch of my body. But I’m shaking from the cold, hungry, and wondering if anybody will ever find me. Finally, it’s stopped snowing and I begin to make my way down the mountain by foot. It would still be a while until they circle around and find me, and I don’t want to sit and freeze until they do.

I look out, trying to find any sign of civilization; a ski resort, a lodge, even a ski lift that may lead to something… but there’s absolutely nothing. How did I get here? What was Christian trying to do? These thoughts give me a headache and I decide to push them out and focus on the task at hand. I must have been walking for an hour, face and fingers frozen, when I finally hear the comforting hum of a helicopter nearing. Oh, thank God.

I look up and there it is; a little black dot in the sky coming closer and closer. I feel an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me and, suddenly, the day’s events catch up to me. Everything catches up to me. Losing Bronx, learning about the death threat put on me, not having enough sleep, not having any food in my body, the snowmobile blowing up, freezing, waiting, walking. I am exhausted and my legs give out. And all I can hear is the helicopter getting closer and closer as I fall to the ground and everything goes black.

-

My head is pounding and there are so many voices around me. I struggle to open my eyes. Everything is a blur; people moving about, pacing, leaving the room, and coming back in. Though there is one constant silhouette beside me who doesn’t move at all. I try to focus my eyes and realize that my hand is inside someone else’s. My surroundings are no longer blurry, and I’m looking into a pair of impossible blue eyes.

“You’re awake!” he breathes and instantly brings my hands to his lips. “Oh, baby… I was so worried.”

“Hi,” I reply hoarsely, my throat dry. “Water…”

He immediately takes a glass of water from the bedside table and helps me sit up. It feels cool and refreshing as I drink. “How are you feeling?” he asks softly, putting the glass back when I’m done. I lay back down, the throbbing in my head not going away.

“Like shit,” I say and he gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I was so worried,” he whispers and kisses my forehead. “I was going out of my mind-“

He’s interrupted by a familiar voice. Linda. “She’s awake!” And she’s at my side not a few seconds later, fussing over me.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” I mutter, trying to calm her down. “What happened?”

“Well, Christian led you to God knows where up in the mountains, way into the danger zone. He then left you there, ran away, and we haven’t heard from the bastard since,” she says all in one breath.

“Oh.”

“You fainted, sweetie,” Brian murmurs and kisses my hand again. “You’ve been out for a couple of hours. You’re in the medical room at the main lodge.”  

“God, I am going to kill that motherfucker if I ever see him again!” she exclaims and it takes me a moment to realize that she’s talking about Christian.

“What happened?” I ask and catch her and Brian make eye contact.

“Detective Brady will explain everything, hun,” is Brian’s reply. Whoah, detective? Sounds serious. “For now, is there anything that you’d like?”

My stomach grumbles then. “Yes. I’m really hungry.”

He stands up right away. “Okay, I’ll get you food.” He gives me a kiss on the forehead and murmurs, “Be right back, baby.”

“Geez, that man is really good to you,” Linda says when he walks out the door.

I smile, despite the situation I’m in. “I’m very lucky.”

Just then, the nurse comes in to check my vitals and I’m too preoccupied with her to ask any more questions. Somehow, I’m thinking ignorance is bliss right now. I have a strong feeling I know what all of this is about, and I’m not looking forward to my assumptions being confirmed.

Brian comes back a few minutes later with a turkey sandwhich, broccoli and cheese soup, and a banana. “It’s all I could manage to find in the cafeteria,” he says apologetically.

“Baby, this is more than enough,” I reassure him. “Thank you for being here.”

He takes a seat beside the bed and gives me a sad look. “I’m so sorry for all of this,” he whispers, running his thumb down my jawline.

I frown at him. “Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault.”

He sighs and stays quiet as I unwrap the turkey sandwich and dig in, my stomach grumbling with appreciation. “I just keep thinking… what if you hadn’t jumped off the snowmobile?”

I shake my head. “But, I did. Everything happens for a reason and there’s a reason I’m still here,” I tell him.

He glares at me, eyes so intense it makes me a little nervous. “You are so stubborn you know that?” he growls softly.

Before I could reply, a tall, dark man in a crisp grey suit walks into the room. He’s all business, clean cut, and with slight bags under his eyes. “Ms. Cartier, I’m Detective Brady O’Connor,” he introduces himself and shakes hands with the both of us.

I immediately sit up, all appetite gone. “It’s nice to meet you, Detective,” I reply and glance nervously at Brian. He gives me a reassuring smile back, but that telltale sadness is still evident in his blue eyes.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me, Ms. Cartier.”

I nod and rack my brain, trying to decide where to start. “Well… first of all, where is Christian?”

“He’s fled,” he replies, rubbing his forehead. “He left his work pass here, returned all equipment, and he left without a word to anyone. We checked out the place he was staying at, but he’d packed up all his belongings already. My strongest guess would be that he’s hopped on a plane and headed south of the border.”

“But why?” I breathe. “He tried to kill me.”

Detective Brady sighs and pulls up a chair. “That he did.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “When we pulled up his file, we immediately discovered that he works for a man named Rooney.”

All the blood drains from my face and I gasp, wide eyed and look over at Brian. He doesn’t look at me, but down at his hands; face solemn and brows furrowed. “R-Rooney?” I manage to whisper.

“Yes. Upon questioning Mr. Littrell if he knew of any Rooney, he told us the whole story which you know about Ms. Cartier, do you not?”

I nod, swallowing. I can’t seem to find my voice.

“Christian, whose real name is Ben Puccioni, was hired by Rooney years ago to be one of his men taking care of his drug trades here in Canada. Rooney is wanted in pretty much every city, but the man is good. He has never been caught with any hard evidence good enough to take him to jail. Mr. Puccioni, or Christian as you call him, was instructed to move here to keep an eye on Brian but was given the order to have you killed soon after you and Brian started a relationship.”

“Very soon,” I whisper, more to myself than to either of them.

“Obviously, he was unsuccessful at it. Now that we know about Brian’s situation, which he should have come forward with from day one, I have taken the necessary action to inform the security team for his band mates as well as adding security for his close loved ones.” Detective Brady leans in, place his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers together. He looks at me, regarding me carefully. “The only thing is, Ms. Cartier, I don’t think that there is any impending harm towards his friends or family specifically. I know how Rooney works, he keeps his word… down to a tee. So the one thing that is of concern to me is your safety.”

“So what would that imply?” I ask quietly.

“As a professional who has done this for many, many years, Ms. Cartier, I could only suggest one thing. Mr. Littrell is safe as he can be, though I can tell you that his phone is tapped and now yours is tapped as well. Rooney has no plans to kill Mr. Littrell, no. He only seeks revenge, to make him feel the loss he did when he unfortunately lost his wife. I suggest that Mr. Littrell go back to his previous lifestyle as this would require him to be on tour, travel, and so he’ll be around many people along with security. This puts him in a much safer zone than he is here in Banff. Rooney doesn’t like an audience – too many witnesses. He’s very careful to avoid anything with a lot of people. Brian is safer out there, with the fame and the constant attention, than he is here.”

“And me?” My voice is tiny. I know the answer before he even says it, but it crushes me anyway as the words leave his mouth.

“I suggest separating with Mr. Littrell - at least for the time being until we catch Rooney and have him locked behind bars. This would mean going back home to Vancouver, Ms. Cartier. We’ll be setting up the appropriate security for you so that nothing will happen to you during this time. We believe that if you separate with Mr. Littrell, it will be the safest route for the both of you.”

I take a slow breath in, trying to process this. “And how long will this be?”

He gives me a small apologetic shrug. “It could be days, weeks… months. We really don’t know until we start getting good leads on Rooney.”

Months? I glance over at Brian, whose eyes are still downcast, not making contact with me. “Brian?” I whisper.

He looks up at me and the look in his eyes makes my heart drop to my stomach. “He’s right, London,” he says finally. “We shouldn’t be together.”