Her eyebrows shot up.
“It’s untraceable,” I said.
I wasn’t allowed to own firearms, being a felon and all, but oh well.
Her eyes shifted side to side, and she looked confused.
Impatient, I closed the distance between us and pushed the shit into her hands.
“Learn to use it.”
“Why do I need this?” she asked, still holding the handgun like she was debating on whether or not to drop it and run.
“Because my father is smarter than we are. He’ll be onto us eventually. You might need it.”
“So if your dad comes after me, you’re giving me a gun to kill him?” she asked, sounding sarcastic. “So he doesn’t kill me instead?”
I let out a sigh. “Fuck, you’re dumb,” I said. “Like he’d come after you himself. That’s for the guys he’ll send. If anyone kills him, it’ll be me. Now get out.” I jerked my chin toward the door, pulling another cigarette out of the pack. “I’ll call you when I have your shit.”
I lit the end and tossed the lighter onto the table in front of me. “Unless you want to stay,” I said, softening my voice and letting my eyes fall down her body. “Your fiancé is out of town, and it’s my wedding night. We could…play chess.”
And by chess, I meant…
But she just shook her head. “That’s how I know you’re not half as dangerous as you pretend to be,” she said. “You only ever threaten.”
I tapped the cigarette into the ashtray, my mood turning solemn as the smoke streamed into the air. “Sometimes,” I nearly whisper. “And sometimes I mean exactly what I say.” I looked up at her. “So trust me when I say you’ll never escape me. None of you will.”
I watched her, trying so hard to look defiant, but the barest hints of awareness, fear, and doubt still seeped through. She knew I wasn’t going anywhere.
Without a word, she turned and left, leaving the door wide open and letting the music pour in as she disappeared.
Fuck you. This won’t go how you think it will go.
You won’t change me. I’ll change you.
My phone rang, and since Rika just left, there were only two other people who had my number. My father and my security.
“Fuck,” I breathed out as I picked up the phone.
“Yes?” I answered.
“Well done today,” my father said. “I thought for sure I was going to have to strangle you at some point.”
I took a drag and set the cigarette in an ashtray as I blew out the smoke. “I’m sure it would’ve been difficult.”
“Yes, I don’t really want to kill you,” he added. “You’re my only son, after all.”
“No, I mean I’m not eleven anymore.” I grabbed a clean T-shirt and hoodie out of my duffel bag and kicked the door closed again. “I’ll be more difficult to strangle now.”
Prick.
He was silent for a moment, and I could just imagine the look on his face. My father was a master at not losing his cool. He rarely did.
But it would be in his eyes. That hint of aggravation. The distaste for my childishness.
If I weren’t his blood and sole heir, I have no doubt he would’ve killed me long ago.
“The town is buzzing with the news,” he continued, changing the subject. “I want to capitalize on the momentum. The Crists are having an engagement party for Michael and Erika in a week. You’ll go with Ari, and bring the other two, as well. They’re your family now, too, and their reputation needs repair.”
“And they’ll achieve that by showing up with me?” I thought out loud. The irony of my presence helping anyone’s reputation was not lost on me.
“I have to go.” I cut him off. I’d do what he asked, so no argument from me on this one. I wanted to go to the party because everyone would be there.
“Just a heads up…” he told me. “Luka and Dower stopped Winter and some guy on the road tonight. She had a bag packed.”
I stopped, waiting for the rest. “And?”
“And she’s back home where she belongs.”
I relaxed, knowing she wouldn’t have gotten far, but I still needed the confirmation. I knew she would try, though. I hoped she’d try again.
Some guy...
Ethan Belmont. I fisted my hand on instinct. I hope she’d done him. Done him a lot and was still doing him, so I could get an eye full. It would give me one more reason to hate her and to hurt her. It was all the fun I was going to have in this marriage to her sister.
But my father chimed in, as if reading my thoughts. “Let’s make something perfectly clear,” he said. “I want Arion pregnant before the year is out. You know the rules. Do your chores before you play.”
I cocked an eyebrow. I’d never done chores in my life.
“And we need to talk about you taking on some responsibilities with Communica. It’s time you start earning what you’re going to inherit. I need you to come—”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and hung up, tossing it down on the couch. Communica was one of his companies, and nope. He’ll be angry I hung up. He’ll call back later or tomorrow or have his guys drag me back to him for a face to face to finish the conversation, but I didn’t care about any of it.
I’d always had tunnel vision when it came to things I wanted, and it was always one thing at a time. I couldn’t concentrate otherwise.
The choices I made probably wouldn’t ensure me a long life, but it was like I’d always known that, and I’d accepted it. I would die young. I had never thought about working, and the idea of walking into one of Gabriel Torrance’s offices every day made me want to puke.
Maybe I was lazy.
Selfish.
Self-absorbed.
Or maybe my head just wasn’t built for a long life of no consequence. It was “hard and fast” on everything, and I didn’t have the discipline for anything other than a one-track mind.
I changed my clothes, pulling on jeans, a T-shirt, and black hoodie, and then walked over and picked up the black wooden box Rika had held and noticed there was something stuck under the lid, preventing it from closing all the way.
I opened it, nudging the razor blade back inside and hesitating as I surveyed the rest of the items. An assortment of desserts that had been constant and reliable during a time when I was a kid, and they were the only things I could trust.
A paperclip, sewing needle, push pin, pocket knife, scissors, tiger tooth, small animal antler, and a bird skull for the sharp nostril edges. Most of them were sterilized, having not been used in a long time, but my gaze dropped to the lighter, and I absently rubbed my thumb over my index finger, feeling the raised skin from the old burn.
I looked at the push pin. I could sleep tonight. If I really wanted to.
I tapped my fingers silently on the box, indulging in the thought of the temptation, but then I heard a knock on the door, and I blinked, inhaling a deep breath.
“Sir,” Matthew Crane, the lead security detail my father had given me, said behind me. “The extra equipment you asked for is at the site.”
I nodded absently, closing the box and fastening the clasp. “You can go home,” I told him. “I won’t need you for a few days.”
Tucking the box back in the duffel bag, I walked to the sofa and finished getting dressed, lacing up my boots and grabbing my bag, stuffing my suit inside.
“You’re going tonight?” he asked, probably noticing my attire. “You won’t have much light, and it’s supposed to rain, sir.”
I shot him a look as I finished gathering my shit.
He didn’t press further, simply dismissing himself. “Congratulations,” he said. “On your nuptials, I mean. We’ll wait for your call.”
I followed him out the door, he and the other man both flanking me as we descended the stairs and left the club.
They may as well get their rest while they can. When the shit hit the fan, they’d be getting some sleepless nights.
Just like me tonight.
It wa
s time to head back to Thunder Bay.
I’ve done so much more than what I went to prison for—and far worse. Winter has no clue how bad this can get.
Winter
Seven Years Ago
“So you could probably just be homeschooled, huh?” Erika—or, Rika—asked as we treaded down the school hallway slowly.
She led me as I held onto her arm, just above her elbow.
“The textbooks are on audio,” she went on. “And then the teacher sends you the lecture notes, and the computer reads them for you, so…”
“Yeah, my parents would prefer it,” I admitted. “Actually, they would’ve preferred if I’d stayed in Montreal. But I need to learn how to be around people.”
I’d been attending and living at Penoir, a school for the blind in Canada for over five years now, and while I enjoyed it there, comfortable around others who had to live life like I did, I wanted to come home. I wanted to learn to live here again and cope with being who I was now in an average environment. I missed the smell of the sea around our house and the ballroom at home where I always danced.
It was for my own good, too. I wanted to do more ballet and start regular classes again, maybe shoot for something professionally with the support of my family around me.
“Must have been lonely,” Rika offers.
Someone brushed my shoulder as they rushed by, and I took a moment to steady myself. This was the part of school I wasn’t going to like. The crowded halls, the shouts, laughter, and chatter, and all the eyes. I lifted my chin, hoping I looked relaxed.
“Uh, well…” I joked. “I didn’t really say I wanted to be around people. I just need to learn to be.”
She let out a little laugh and veered right. “Turning,” she whispered, alerting me.
“Actually, I had lots of friends,” I continued, following her. “It wasn’t lonely. It was comfortable. Too comfortable, I guess. I annoy my sister, so since she graduates at the end of the year, I thought it would be my last chance to be around for that.”
She chuckled again. “How fun. I’m an only child.”
I wonder if my parents might’ve kept me around if I had been the only one instead of tucking me away at some distant school for others to deal with.
My face started to warm as we walked, and I wasn’t sure if it was my nerves or what.
“Are people staring at me?” I asked her.
“They’re staring at us.”
“Why?”
I heard her inhale. “I think… they’re confused. We kind of look alike.”
“Do we?” I replied. “Are you hot?”
If she was hot, then I was hot.
But she just laughed.
“When I think about how I must look,” I told her, “I still see the kid I last looked at in the mirror when I was eight.”
“So you can think in…pictures?”
I blinked. Pictures?
She must’ve seen a look on my face, because she rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was a dumb question, right?”
I shook my head. “No, I... I’m just used to being around people who understand, I guess. I’ll have to get used to questions.” And then I added, “And making people feel comfortable enough to ask. It’s fine.” I let out a small laugh and licked my lips. “And yes, to answer your question. My brain still works, just not my eyes. When I try to picture things I’ve never seen before, though, like you or the inside of this school, it gets more complicated. Sometimes I map it out in my head, and I can create an impression. Other times it’s just like a color or a feeling or a sound that helps me identify it.”
Then I went through some of the pictures in my head, reflecting on how I drew things in my mind.
“Sometimes,” I continued, “it’s a memory. Like when I think about trees or I’m in the forest around my house, I always picture the last trees I saw. No matter where I am. Every tree looks like the trees in that garden maze with the fountain. Tall hedges, dark green…” I trailed off, the memories of that day flooding me again. “A fountain…”
“Garden maze?” she questioned. “Not the one at Damon Torrance’s house…”
My face fell, and I almost stumbled. Damon.
She said his name so casually, like she assumed I knew exactly who he was, heard his name every day, and he was just any other boy, living and breathing right here in Thunder Bay. All of it so normal to her.
Of course, I knew he still lived here, but having her so casually confirm it all of a sudden reminded me that I’d let my guard down.
The truth was, I hadn’t heard his name in six years. It was never spoken in my house, not since the day I found him sitting in the fountain and ended up covered in blood. Everyone said it was an accident, but he’d scared me that day. He made me fall.
But I knew he’d be here. I just hadn’t let myself think about it, I guess. I was a freshman, and he was a senior, on his way to college in a matter of months. My father wanted me to wait until he was gone—start here my sophomore year—but I wanted to start now. My classmates would be transferring from their middle schools, just like I was transferring, so we’d be on an even keel. In that respect anyway. I wanted all four years with my graduating class.
I’d just avoid him and his circle, but he probably didn’t care to trouble himself with me anyway. I couldn’t imagine how he’d forget, because I never would, but it was possible. Given the time that had passed, maybe I was just a faint memory to him.
“Well…,” Rika began after I didn’t say anything else. “It might be nice to live in my good memories forever.”
I nodded, letting the misconception go. I wish I could remember any other trees but those trees.
We stopped at her locker, and I heard the hollow clunk as she dumped her bag of books into it before taking my bag, as well. Not that I had much in there. Some headphones, a digital recorder the school made me buy to record lectures even though I have an app on my phone for that, my wallet, and of course, my cell.
All of my text books and reading material were downloaded on Audible and on my phone, and I’d left my MacBook in my own locker before Biology, since I’d been told I wouldn’t need it for that class. The text-to-speech feature, where I could type out homework and hear it read back to me to make sure I’d typed correctly, had always been useful, but working in groups and having my earbuds in during class was going to be an obstacle I hadn’t thought of. The learning curve coming here would be steep.
“We’ll pick your stuff up after lunch,” Rika told me.
My locker was at the other end of the hall, and the cafeteria was right here. Something about the way she just took my bag into her space, and reaffirmed that we’d be together this afternoon, too, kind of comforted me. Like I had a place.
Lunch. I let out a breath. It was the part I was dreading the most. Even though the entire morning so far was a running contest for “most awkward.”
The whispers in Algebra.
The awkward silence in French.
The laughter in the science lab when the class president introduced herself and offered to be of any help she could in a really loud voice like I was deaf instead of blind.
The nervous verbal exchange with the P.E. teacher who’d forgotten to accommodate for me in her basketball lesson plan, so she ended up putting me on the treadmill for thirty minutes all by myself.
It was to be expected, I guess. I was the only visually impaired student, and I was the mayor’s daughter. People were curious, while others were just unaware or flustered as to how to interact with me. I supposed the learning curve applied to us all.
“Whoo-hoo!” Loud shouts descended down the hall, and I turned toward the noise, hearing a door swing open and closed a few times as it banged the wall.
Students jostled on both sides of me, squeezing between me and Rika and forcing us farther apart as they tried to get to wherever they were going.
Finally, she took my hand, leading me away. She hadn’t taken my hand all mornin
g, and my mother had made her aware that I didn’t really like that. I preferred to hold on to them, not the other way around.
Plus, it made me feel like a kid.
“Ow, ow, ow!” someone howled, and I jerked my head toward the noise, wondering what was going on. It was lot noisier at this school.
My thumb brushed the cuff of Rika’s shirt as she held my hand in her slender one, and I continued my slow steps through the crowd.
Hadn’t she been wearing a short-sleeved shirt, like a Polo shirt? With a sweater vest, I thought? I felt them both as I’d been holding her arm all morning.
I narrowed my eyes.
And just then, I heard my name.
“Winter!” Rika’s voice called.
And it wasn’t coming from the person holding my hand, either.
I halted.
“Winter!” she shouted again. “Put your hand up, so I can see you!”
I yanked my hand out of the grasp of whoever had me and was just about to raise it, so Rika could find me, but the person grabbed me, I heard a door creak open, and I was shoved, stumbling into a completely different room with a tiled floor under my boots, humid air, and a strange smell, like a mixture of sweat, sporting equipment, and perfume.
Or…a body spray.
I shot my hands out in front of me, breathing hard and noticing the noise around me had changed, too. The distant shouts and chatter from down the hallway were gone, no doors opening and closing, and…no female voices.
“I think you’re in the wrong place, honey,” some guy said, chuckling.
“Whoo-hoo,” another boy cooed as he walked by me, and I heard some whistles go off around the room.
Oh, shit.
My stomach sank.
Who the hell had grabbed me out there? Had Rika seen where I’d gone? Oh, my God. I whipped around, feeling for the door and finding it just a few feet away. But when I pushed on it, it wouldn’t budge. Laughter spilled in from the other side, and tears sprang to my eyes as I pounded on the door. It gave way just an inch, I thought, more giggles filtered in from the outside, and then their weight was against it again, keeping me in.
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