by Shade, S. M.
One glass of whiskey isn’t enough, and I pour myself another. “I shouldn’t have let her love me in the first place.”
“Oh, I think I get it. You’re supposed to stay alone your whole life so you don’t accidentally hurt someone who might kill themselves.”
Her tone is pissing me off. “Stop saying it so it sounds so…ridiculous,” I snap.
“I’m sorry. You say it so that it doesn’t sound ridiculous.”
“Naomi! God damn it!” She doesn’t blink when I set my glass down on the table almost hard enough to break. Anger is trying to take over because I’m on the defensive now.
Instead, she looks at me, calm, but with tear glazed eyes. “That’s fine, Ax. Get pissed. Because I am. I was pissed when Mom killed herself and I’m mad as hell that your ex did that to you. I wanted the same thing you did. A life. On my own. I was entitled to it and so were you. Everyone is.
“It’s horrible, what they did. A terrible end for them, but they left us with the uncertainty, with the guilt, with the thought that we could’ve saved them, and fuck them for that.”
“Your mom,” I utter, directing the subject back to her. “You said you filed a wrongful death lawsuit.”
“I did. She shot herself. Mom had a documented history of mental illness and never should’ve been able to buy a gun. Even the lax gun laws should’ve prevented it, but she bought it from a vendor at a gun show who didn’t run background checks. I sued the organizer of the gun show and won.”
Her fingers pick at the knee of her pants. “I thought it would make me feel better, you know? If I could make someone responsible. Blame someone. It didn’t. And I didn’t like that I ended up profiting from her death, so the money has just sat in that account for years.”
She looks up at me. “I felt guilty too at first. There wasn’t an ounce of me that believed she’d kill herself, especially not because I left. She never seemed to give too much of a shit when I was around. I guess she couldn’t handle being alone. It took a couple of years and some therapy to let go of the guilt, and sometimes I still feel angry.”
Heated eyes burn into mine. “You didn’t kill Renee. She killed herself. I am so damn sorry she put you through all that, but not one bit of it was your fault.”
I’m horrified to find a lump growing in my throat and when I look away, she embraces me. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Ax. Renee’s death, your mother leaving, those are things that happened to you not because of you.”
There’s nothing in the world I’d like to believe more, but she can’t know that for sure. Sitting back, I pick up my glass and drink. My mind is full of contradicting thoughts, pushing and pulling at one another for dominance until I feel half crazy with it. One thing still comes out on top. She can’t love me. I can’t take the risk of driving her away, and if I found her the way I did Renee, I’m not sure I’d survive it.
She can’t love me.
I can’t love her.
When I don’t say anything, she slides a soft palm over my jaw and her eyes shine with unshed tears when she speaks. “I love you, but my love is not your responsibility or a prison you’re caught in. If you want it, it’s here. Either way, I’ll survive, but I can’t keep doing this. The back and forth and sleeping together, then pretending it never happened. It hurts too much. I’d never leave you or Caden, but we have to stop.”
My heart beats in my ears and the seconds feel like an eternity while we gaze at each other. Because this is it. This is the moment when I end whatever was trying to grow between us. For both of our sakes. So many words want to break free. I want to tell her how much she’s changed my life, how much she’s made me care again, love again, how I wouldn’t have the relationship I have with Hatch if it wasn’t for her. Everything in me wants her to know that as much as I fought against it, as much as I don’t want it to be true, I love her.
Her lips part the tiniest bit and they accept mine with no resistance. One last, long, soft kiss before I pull away and nod. “You’re right. We have to stop.”
Her chest hitches, and I can see the pain spread over her features. She gets to her feet and heads for the stairs. “Naomi…” I don’t know how to finish. There’s nothing I can say.
“I’m going outside for a minute. I need some fresh air.”
“Security—”
“I’m just going out on the deck. Not leaving.” Defeat hangs in her voice, and I hate it.
But I let her go.
The sound of the cabin door closing sounds so final, even though I know she’s right outside. It’s like I can feel her through the walls, her suffering that matches mine. Someday in the future, when she’s safe and happy, she’ll understand. Safe and happy with someone else. The thought sends a spike through my chest, and I forgo the glass for the bottle of bourbon.
A few minutes pass before my phone beeps with a text.
Naomi: I’m going to spend the night in Dani’s room. Security is taking me over.
My fingers hover over the phone. I want to tell her to come back. That even knowing she’s downstairs in her room would be better than sitting here alone, listening to the wind howl, but I can’t be that selfish. She should have Dani’s company and comfort. Let her have Hatch’s silliness to help her through. After running through so many responses in my head, I finally reply.
ME: Okay.
Really, what else is there to say? We’ve both laid everything out and we know where we stand now.
Alone.
The sound of a snowmobile motor grows, then fades away again. As good a way as any for security to escort her, I suppose.
I need to write. It’s the only thing I can do to keep my head straight right now. The lights flash as I start down the stairs, and I pause, waiting to see if they’re going to go out. Not that it matters. I couldn’t give one fuck.
The blizzard is ramping up in full force by the time I retrieve my earbuds, guitar, and lyric notebook, and return to the loft. I take a seat on the floor beside the window where I can watch the snow whip into a frenzy before it settles soft over the landscape.
Time pushes by while I sit there, thinking, trying to sort out what can be so hard to put into words. It’s a struggle to pinpoint the primary emotion among all the chaos churning inside of me. The one that’s shoved to the surface becomes clear, and I pick up my notebook.
Naomi likes to call me a nihilist. Maybe in some sense I am because in times like this, that’s where my thoughts go. That’s where comfort has always come from; the realization that if everything ends, then nothing really matters. My version of don’t sweat the small stuff because if you zoom out far enough, it’s all pointless.
I was surprised when she sort of agreed with me, but of course, she drew a more positive outlook from it. That if everything is temporary, then you should find happiness in every little thing you can. I’ve watched her do that. The way she closed her eyes and let the music take her at the concerts or even just sitting in the living room. All the times she laughed, her face lighting up at something silly Hatch did. Reaching out and holding a homeless man’s hand. Laughing and falling into the snow. She lives in those moments. She makes them matter.
How much of that did I miss before she taught me to do the same?
As it always does when an idea takes over, the outside world fades away, and my hands alternate between writing and plucking the strings.
Sometimes when I sit still, I can hear the world crack around me.
Hear every word I’d retract.
Every hurt I’d take back.
For her.
Sometimes when I float here, I can feel the universe wrap around me.
Feel every chance I let skid.
Every moment I hid.
From me.
But does it matter?
Oh, does anything?
When all will shatter
under time’s reckoning.
If it’s all for waste
we may as well sing.
And live out the days
in the joy they can bring.
It needs another verse, but it’s all I have in me tonight. The bottle of bourbon is nearly empty when I set the notebook and guitar aside, then lean against the wall, my legs outstretched and ankles crossed. I drain the last of the bourbon and feel its heat rush through me, putting the pain at a distance. The blues playlist I choose as I slip my earbuds in does the opposite, making me feel. Making me hurt for her. For me. For us.
Turning my head toward the glass, I watch the raging whiteout until the darkness takes me.
* * *
“Axton! Damn it! Wake up! I’ve been calling you and Naomi and neither of you will pick up the phone!”
Dani’s words don’t register in my still intoxicated brain, but the kick to my ankle jolts my eyes open. The regret is immediate, and I squint under the painful white sunlight. “Fuck.”
“This explains it,” she says, her voice thick with sarcasm as she picks up the empty bottle.
I drag myself to a sitting position and open my eyes just enough to see her frowning face. “What’s going on?”
“I need Caden’s snowsuit. He’s with Clara and Brysen since I didn’t want to bring him out in this without it. It’s freezing out there. Why wouldn’t you answer your phone?”
“I didn’t hear it ring. What time is it?” I pick up my phone. “It’s dead. I fell asleep without putting it on charge.” Not to mention I left the music playing.
Dani starts back down the stairs, calling back, “Six-thirty. Caden was up with the sun. Naomi must be passed out too since she wouldn’t answer either.”
Her words take a moment to sink in, and I get to my feet, a bad feeling brewing. Dani’s eyebrows jump up when I charge down the stairs to catch up with her. “What do you mean Naomi won’t answer? She said she was staying with you last night. Security took her over just past eleven.”
Dani stares at me a moment. “Ax, I haven’t heard from her since you two left yesterday.”
I rush down the hall to Naomi’s room. Maybe she changed her mind and I didn’t hear her come in. Her room is empty. So is mine, and every other room in the cabin. “She’s not here. Who else would she stay with?” I ask.
Dani gives me a sideways glance, and I spit out the name I know she was thinking. “Patrick.”
I throw my phone on the charger and quickly forward all calls from it to Dani’s phone. My attempt to call Naomi’s phone from Dani’s while I put on my coat and boots goes straight to voicemail. When I grab my keys, Dani speaks up, “You won’t get the SUV out. The storm is over but there’s over two feet of new snow out there. We have to take the snowmobile.” On our way out the door, Dani asks, “Did something happen? Did you have a fight?”
“No, not a fight. Let’s just find her.”
Maybe she rented a room or something. I can’t believe she’d stay with Patrick after what she said to me last night, but maybe I’m wrong. I told her we were done. We agreed. Still, the thought shreds me.
I’m off of the snowmobile the second it stops, and I yell back at Dani who struggles to keep up with me. “Go find out if she rented a room.” Maybe she just wanted a night alone. It’d be understandable.
Patrick’s room is right next to Jude’s and he pops open his door when I start banging on Patrick’s. “What the hell, dude? It’s barely seven.”
Patrick opens his door, bleary eyed with his hair wild. “Where’s Naomi?” I demand. Blinking, he just stares at me a moment like he didn’t understand the question. I charge past him into the room.
“Naomi?” He finally says. “She isn’t here.”
After a quick check in the bathroom, I know he’s telling the truth and I don’t know whether to be relieved or alarmed. “Have you seen her?”
“Not since yesterday when we were all at dinner.”
“Ax, what’s going on?” Jude demands.
Before I can reply, Dani steps into the room. “She didn’t rent a room. They’re booked up. She couldn’t have. And she’s not in any of the common areas or restaurant.”
Security.
I grab Dani’s phone and call Gideon. “Gideon, I need to know who escorted Naomi back to the lodge at eleven last night and where they dropped her off. Now.”
He promises to check with the other guys and get right back to me while I rack my brain to think where else she could’ve gone. I’m almost to the point of going door to door.
“Is Naomi missing?” Jude asks.
“No,” I snap. I can’t stand the thought. Not again. Not after what we went through with Hatch. “I just don’t know where she is.”
Dani shoots him a look that keeps him from replying, and Gideon rings her phone. “Yeah,” I answer.
“Mr. Todd. I checked with everyone on duty last night. None of our officers escorted Ms. Wells anywhere. There were no calls for us at all last night.”
The room shifts under my feet, and I slam my palm against the wall, steadying myself. “I heard a snowmobile come to pick her up!”
“Sir, it wasn’t any of us.”
This can’t be happening. It doesn’t make sense. We’re in the fucking boonies in the middle of a blizzard. “Search the hotel. Every room. Get authorities involved if anyone gives you any shit. Now. She has to be here. Find her.”
The next hour is like a bad flashback. A fruitless search of the hotel. Local and state cops. An attempt to ping her phone only to find it must be off or dead. Questions and more questions while I tear the lodge and cabins apart looking for her.
A park ranger joins us and adds to my panic. “We had whiteout conditions last night. If she tried to walk from your cabin to the lodge, she could’ve easily gotten lost. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened in this area. It’s why we put the warnings out. We’re putting a team together now. There are a lot of barns and outbuildings in the area she could’ve sheltered in.”
“It was below freezing all night. With that wind and snow…” Dani trails off.
The ranger nods. “I’m afraid the odds of survival aren’t good, ma’am, unless she found some kind of heat source. If she was able to make a fire…well, let’s just get the teams out.”
“I heard a snowmobile,” I remind them. “Someone could’ve taken her.”
The officer standing beside the ranger replies, “We’re looking into that too, but it’s very unlikely given the circumstances and the storm. The lodge is checking to see if all their snowmobiles are accounted for.”
Lost in the snow. It’s not a theory I can make myself believe. “Naomi wouldn’t be foolish enough to try to walk through a blizzard.”
Dani stares at me. “Ax, if she was upset…” She shrugs.
Upset. She was heartbroken, but desperate enough to run into a blizzard to escape me? “Stay with Hatch,” I tell Dani. “I’m going out with my security team to search.”
The lodge is fast to provide us with snowmobiles and anything else we need. We also find out they don’t have any missing, and the look I get from the cops tells me they don’t believe me, but I know what I heard.
The morning is eerily peaceful when we head outside, and all I can do is look at the snow that seemed so beautiful and wonder if she’s under it somewhere. If she spent all those hours freezing and dying beneath its weight.
Chapter Fourteen
Naomi
It’s freezing outside but I need a moment in the open air. A moment to watch the snow and feel the peace of nature while my emotions are roiling and raw. I take a moment to pull on my coat and boots, but don’t bother to look for my hat or gloves. I’ll only be a few minutes, then I’ll retreat to my room.
It’s over with Axton. If it ever really started. I don’t know what I expected, but at least now I know. How am I going to get over him? How can I separate myself from him without losing everything else I love?
The bitter wind smacks me in the face as I step out the door. It makes me gasp and I open my mouth. The air tastes different, clean and crisp. I try to take a m
oment to feel it. To note my surroundings and take it all in, but it’s hard when I feel so defeated.
Wading through the snow—it looks like we already have six inches or so—I walk down the steps of the back deck and lean against the railing. When I look up, it’s an amazing sight, so many huge snowflakes coming at me so heavily. I’ve never seen snow like this.
The sound of an approaching motor reaches my ears and a tiny headlight barely cuts through the curtain of flakes. I assume it’s one of the guys, or that Axton sent security to check on me, though I’ve only been out here a minute.
“Naomi,” a familiar voice calls out from the shadows, as a figure a little taller than me climbs off of a snowmobile. I must be hallucinating because there’s no way who I’m seeing right now is real.
“Paige?”
She rushes forward into the light, her face bright red and wet with tears as she sobs so hard, I can barely understand her. “Naomi, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I needed the money and I panicked, and I never should’ve done that interview.”
“What the fuck? Where did you come from? How did you?” I step back as she gets close to me.
“Dani told me where you guys were staying. She didn’t want to, but I promised that I just wanted to apologize, and we’ve been friends for so long and…” She comes toward me with her arms open, bawling and trying to hug me, and I’m stunned into place.
Just as she gets a foot or so away, her arm dips into her coat pocket. I don’t get a chance to see what she’s holding before a pain like I’ve never felt racks through my entire body, and I drop to the ground. It feels like I can’t move, and as soon as I try to, the pain jolts through me again, so hard I can’t even manage to cry out.
This must be a nightmare. We’re in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, with a blizzard raging around us. My ex best friend can’t be here. She can’t really be tasering me, gagging me, tying my wrists and feet. This isn’t happening and I need to wake up.