The Protector (Game of Chance, #1)(85)

Chappy went to his knees next to the door and leaned down. “Carlise? Are you in there? It’s me, Riggs! Unlock the door. You’re safe. The avalanche is done.”

When there was no immediate response, he tried, “Susie . . . ?”

All five men held their breath as they waited for some indication that someone was alive in the bunker.



Time had no meaning in the dark bunker. Carlise shivered as she huddled against one of the walls. She hoped it was her imagination, but she felt as if it was harder to breathe now than it had been when she’d first entered. Though . . . she had no idea how long ago that may have been.

Her mind wandered to places she didn’t want to go. She wondered if it hurt to suffocate. If she’d claw at her throat, trying to get air in that wasn’t there, or just fall asleep.

Her feelings swung wildly from being grateful to have found the bunker and escaped the avalanche to sorrow and anger at Susie’s betrayal. She’d managed to not think about Riggs for what felt like forever . . . but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him now.

Shifting so she was lying on the cold floor, she curled into a ball, swearing when the bullet hole in her shoulder made itself known once more. She’d taken her coat off a while ago and balled it up, leaned against it on the wall to try to stop the bleeding, but she didn’t have the energy to put it back on.

She thought about how lucky she’d been to come across Riggs’s cabin. About how worried she’d been when he was sick. How peaceful he looked when he slept, how handsome when he smiled, and how he could turn her on with a simple laugh.

She’d miss the way his calloused hands felt against her skin. How strong and masculine he looked while chopping wood. How he baby talked to Baxter to coax him closer so he could pet him. How protective he was.

The way he felt inside her, how his eyes had sparkled when he’d admitted he wanted four kids.

She’d miss literally everything about the man.

It wasn’t fair that she’d been able to get away from Susie, find this bunker, and survive a freaking avalanche, only to die from lack of oxygen.

She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live. She wanted Riggs. Wanted to explore Newton. Wanted to see his apartment in the small town.

Tears fell from her eyes, and her stuffy nose made it even harder to breathe.

Carlise sat up. She wanted to be like the kick-ass heroines in the romance books she translated. She wanted to be able to find her way out of this situation on her own and show Riggs that she wasn’t helpless. That she could make it in the rugged woods of Maine.

But instead, she was going to die.

God, she hoped it wasn’t Riggs who found her body when the snow melted. She didn’t want him to have to go through that after everything else.

Sighing, Carlise grasped her updrawn legs, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder, and closed her eyes, resting her cheek on her knees. Breathing was definitely harder now. And she was so woozy. Maybe from blood loss.

She could almost hear Riggs’s voice in her head. Telling her how much he loved her, how proud he was of her. How brave she was.

It was official—she was dying. There was no way she could hear Riggs’s voice. Her brain was playing tricks on her. She was hallucinating for sure.

A second later, she lifted her head, going perfectly still.

No—she could hear Riggs’s voice!

It was muffled, and she couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it had to be his voice!

She dropped her arms from around her legs, got to her hands and knees, and started crawling in the direction she thought the door was.

She slammed her head into something hard, making nausea swirl in her gut.

“Don’t puke, don’t puke,” she admonished herself out loud. It felt weird to hear her own voice. She’d stopped talking to herself shortly after entering the bunker. But somehow, it gave her strength. She wasn’t dead yet, and she’d fight for her future with everything she had.

Putting her hand on the wall, she felt the metal shelves that lined one side of the bunker. She vaguely remembered what the space looked like from when Riggs had shown it to her the first time, and slowly, she made her way toward the end where the ladder was located.

That was when she heard it again—Riggs’s voice for sure.

“Carlise? Are you in there? It’s me, Riggs. Unlock the door. You’re safe. The avalanche is done . . . Susie?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly, she couldn’t speak. It felt as if there was no oxygen left at all.

For a moment, she panicked. If she didn’t get to that door, she’d die. And she was so close to seeing Riggs again! To feeling his arms around her.

She had to move. She couldn’t come this close to being rescued, only to fail now.

She started to stand with the help of the ladder, her shoulder aching. It felt as if it took every ounce of her strength just to lift her leg to the first rung, but determination rose within her. She could do this. She had no choice.

Carlise thought about her mom. How strong she was. How she’d survived for years in an abusive relationship. She wanted to make her proud. Wanted a chance to tell her how much of an inspiration she was.

Her shoulder screamed in pain as she stood a couple of rungs up the ladder and stretched her arm toward the lock. She couldn’t quite reach. She’d have to go up one more rung. She braced carefully, giving herself the leverage she needed to slide the lock.