Home > The Protector (Game of Chance #1)(4)

The Protector (Game of Chance #1)(4)
Author: Susan Stoker

It ate at him, they all knew that, but he always kept his cool and never let anyone know his experiences had taken a part of his soul . . . except JJ. Their leader could always break through the ice that seemed to surround Cal and get him to open up and admit when he was struggling.

“I’m good,” Chappy reassured him. “Just ready for this break.”

“That last group you took on the AT was a handful, huh?”

Chappy huffed out a breath. “That’s one way to describe them.” He’d taken three college girls on a two-night trip down the Appalachian Trail, and they’d done nothing but complain the entire time. Their feet hurt, their backs ached, their bags were too heavy, they were hungry, the coffee sucked, the shelters they’d stayed in were too cold . . . the complaints went on and on.

By the time Chappy had waved goodbye as they were picked up at a designated stopping point, he was utterly relieved to be by himself. He took his time during the two-day hike back the way he’d come, making notes on which trail markers needed to be repainted and which trees would probably fall across the trail during the upcoming winter, needing to be chopped and cleared come spring. When he finally returned to Newton, he was ready for some down time.

“Well, if you need anything, call. I’ll be pissed if you don’t,” JJ said sternly. “You need extraction, we’ve got your back.”

“The roads up here are going to be unpassable, and you know it,” Chappy told him.

“Don’t care. You need help, we’ll be there. Besides, you know it’ll give Bob a thrill to have a chance to take his truck out with that new plow.”

Chappy laughed. JJ wasn’t wrong. Of their small team, Bob was the most comfortable in nature, which was somewhat humorous since he’d wanted to live in New York City. He’d taken to life in Maine as if he were born to it. He volunteered for the longest AT guide jobs and was always the one who wanted to shimmy up a tree to get to the highest branches that needed trimming.

“I appreciate it,” Chappy told JJ.

“And I know I don’t need to say it, but I’m going to anyway . . . the rain before the snow is gonna make the snowpack unstable. Just because there hasn’t been an avalanche out this way in a long time doesn’t mean there won’t be again.”

“Let me guess, April cornered you and filled your head with statistics on avalanches and how many there have been in the state and what the ideal conditions are for them to occur,” Chappy said with a smile.

“Got it in one. But she has a good point. There was one over at Baxter State Park only a couple of years ago. And you being at the base of Baldpate Mountain doesn’t give me the warm fuzzies.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Chappy teased.

“I’m being serious,” JJ argued, sounding grumpy.

“I know. But this cabin is about a mile away from where the slides are most likely to occur, if they happen at all.”

“Right. Well, enjoy your time away from the hustle and bustle of Newton.”

Chappy laughed outright at that. “Uh-huh. You gonna tattle to April if I don’t check in every other day?”

It was JJ’s turn to chuckle. “Don’t need to tattle. She’s gonna be on my case, wanting to know if I’ve talked to you and if you’re all right. You don’t check in, she’ll probably find a way to get up there to see for herself that you’re in one piece.”

“She would too, wouldn’t she?” Chappy mused.

“Yes. So hunker down, enjoy the solitude, and call me so I can reassure her that you’re fine and don’t need to be rescued.”

Chappy smiled. He and the others might bitch about April being like a mother hen, but the truth was, it felt good. He wasn’t close to his biological family. Couldn’t even remember the last time he’d talked to his own mother.

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

“Later.”

Chappy clicked off the phone and climbed out of his Jeep. He had a good bit of work to get done before the worst of the weather moved in.

As soon as he had the thought, a drop of rain hit his nose. JJ wasn’t wrong, the weather was moving in way faster than forecasted. Looking up, he saw the tops of the trees blowing in the high wind. He frowned and mentally calculated which trees needed pruning. It was too late now, of course, so he’d just have to hope they held up under the weight of the coming snow. It would suck to have one of the large trees fall onto his cabin.

Taking a deep breath, and trying not to borrow trouble, Chappy turned back to his Jeep. He needed to get his supplies inside, make sure the generator was filled and operational, ensure there was enough firewood stacked on the porch to last awhile, and what seemed like a hundred other little chores.

He had three new books to read, along with the dozens he’d hauled up here over the last two years that were sitting on bookshelves inside. He was looking forward to a nice, relaxing, boring two weeks before he headed back down to Newton to pull his weight with Jack’s Lumber.

 

It was official.

Carlise Edwards was lost.

She’d started driving the day before yesterday, her only goal to get away. To get out of Cleveland. Away from whoever was stalking her.

She was pretty sure it was her ex-boyfriend.

At first, Tommy seemed like everything she’d been looking for in a man . . . but before long, he’d turned possessive and jealous. Violent. And if there was one thing she wouldn’t tolerate, it was an abusive boyfriend.

She’d already watched her mom struggle to make Carlise’s father happy, to no avail. The man had beaten her more times than Carlise could count—and her mom had made excuses for him for the longest time.

So when Tommy got angry after arriving home after work to find she didn’t have dinner waiting for him, shoving her hard enough for Carlise to stumble and fall, knocking her head on the counter before slumping to the floor, she was done. She knew how things would go. He’d apologize, promise he didn’t mean to hurt her, swear it would never happen again . . . until it did. His behavior would likely escalate until Carlise was hiding bruises and making up excuses for broken bones.

Wasn’t going to happen. She’d dumped him without hesitation.

He hadn’t taken it well. At first, he’d begged her to give him another chance, but when that didn’t work, he became obsessed. Following her everywhere she went, showing up at her apartment, calling and texting at all hours of the day and night. His behavior was alarming, and it went on for weeks.

Then he turned destructive, painting the word “Bitch” on her front door and slashing all four of her tires. At least, she assumed the vandalism had been Tommy. She couldn’t be certain, since she’d never caught him in the act. He’d also started harassing her from a number and an email address she didn’t recognize, as if suddenly realizing an electronic trail wasn’t so smart.

But it wasn’t as if she didn’t have all the other texts and emails with his name attached, and she couldn’t imagine anyone else in her life wanting to damage her property.

His initial calls and texts, following her . . . all of that had been scary enough, but after the vandalism, she’d really started to worry. She’d shared her concerns with her mom and her best friend, Susie. Though they warned her to be careful, neither could offer much beyond a sympathetic ear.

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