The Winter Games

by Sharp, Dr. Rebecca

  Until the little Ryder came in. My swashbuckling sunshine.

  Only then was it glaring in my mind that I was losing the only mother I’d really ever known—the only woman who’d ever really cared for me. I was going to lose a woman who’d fought for me—even when that meant fighting me—even when that meant falling on her sword for me; it made my gut clench.

  I wanted her love but I didn’t deserve it; that’s why I stayed away.

  Just like Ally.

  I watched her that night because I couldn’t stop. I tormented her that night because I wanted to prove that I wasn’t worth it. But when she sang, it shot me right over every goddamn line that should have never been crossed, like rockets had been strapped to my back—or onto my heart.

  Almost lover.

  The snow crunched under my feet as I stepped down from my truck. I didn’t bother locking my doors because who the fuck was going to wander all the way up the mountain? And, more important, what could they possible steal from me?

  The cabin may have been small as shit and deceptively plain on first glance, but on the inside, it was damn nice. It was really only one level, with a small stair that led to a loft where my bed was. And by bed, I meant a mattress on the floor.

  Walking in the front door, you faced into the living room, looking directly at the huge fireplace that was probably a third of the size of the wall. There was a leather couch and chair in front of it and an LED flatscreen above the mantle. To the right was a small table with a wooden base and glass top and two chairs; the bathroom was over on that side as well. The tiny kitchen was off to the left with just enough room to fit basic appliances alongside my culinary ineptitude.

  There was one more level—the basement. A door immediately on my left led down into a giant cement-lined room that was my workshop. Computer, work-bench, woodworking equipment, metal-working tools, fiberglass, paint, decals, wax… everything for my board business happened down there which it why that door had a keycode combination lock.

  Honestly, none of any of that made the cabin anything special. In my opinion, there was only one feature that stood out and it was the only thing that anyone noticed walking inside. Windows. The entire back wall and onto the back half of the roof was covered with glass.

  It made heating and cooling a bitch, snowstorms slightly more dangerous, and figuring out how to work a fireplace into a wall of windows extremely expensive.

  But, it meant that I fell asleep to the stars and woke up with the sun.

  I never brought anyone here. Not women at least. Well, Channing, but she didn’t count. I had a condo in town that I rented out—and also used for those types of nights.

  Chance and Nick had been a few times, but even that was too close for me. Until Halloween, there were no personal effects. After Halloween, I’d put up one photo on the mantel. It was one of Miriam and me during one of the too brief moments in our history when I hadn’t been a complete asshole to the both of them.

  I put it up there because Miriam was dying. When people die, it makes you think about all the shit you should have done or said. It makes you want to make amends for the unforgivable. It makes you want to rip the girl from the stage and never let her go because from the second she opened the door expecting the damn pizza man, I needed her. And her song told me that she needed me, too.

  Even now, my mouth salivated to taste her. I pulled out the bottle of Cask Mates from the liquor cabinet in my closet-sized kitchen and drank several healthy sips, then collapsing into the chair in front of the fireplace which I turned on with a remote. I allowed myself some luxuries.

  Earlier tonight, Ruth had left me a voicemail. After the first call, my body hummed, anticipating the news that I knew she was bringing. It was why I’d abruptly left Cassie (causing her first bitch-fit of the night) to buy Ally the same drink she’d had on Halloween—her favorite… not that that shithead skier got the hint. I needed an excuse to be near her—especially after seeing the way that douchebag picked her up and held her like she was his toy instead of my world.

  I couldn’t stand the thought of another woman I loved slipping through my fingers.

  Anything else I wanted, I took. Anything else I could buy, I did. But the memory of Halloween was the only thing that was worth anything to me. And I wanted to lose myself in her the same way I had then. And every night since, although not quite in the same way.

  Every night I made a fucking pilgrimage to that memory. Every night I worshipped her in my dreams or sacrificed someone else to her image.

  Then Ruth called the second time and I’d gone outside to answer. Her words were the sound of the rock-solid ground I thought I’d been standing on being yanked out from under me once again.

  I turned to see Ally standing there and the invisible wall that had held me back from her—the one that said I didn’t deserve her, the one that reminded me that she was my best friend’s baby sister, had disappeared.

  I’d tried to push her away just like I’d tried to push Miriam away. And just like Miriam, Ally only tried to get closer. I was a complete ass to her and the second she sensed my hurt, all she wanted was to help me. She begged me to let her in.

  I didn’t deserve that kind of care.

  But tonight, I was a fucking millimeter away from taking it—and taking her—just like I told her I would.

  My darkness was destructive—and not the obvious kind either. It was the kind that only really hurt those who tried to save me. The worst part was that it was the kind of darkness that seductively lured my saviors into self-destruction all for my sake.

  Martyrdom for the sinner and not the saint.

  The bottle of whiskey in my hand was half-full. By morning, it would be gone.

  “You look like shit.”

  I tossed my board onto the ground next to where Frost was waiting for me.

  “Fuck you, Frost.” My head felt like the empty bottle of whiskey that had been lying next to the chair this morning was being repeatedly broken over my head. It took me twice as long to strap in, my vision only picking up my surroundings clearly every few seconds.

  “Got an interesting text from Cassie last night.”

  Fuck.

  “Yeah, last time I take your suggestion. She was too fucking annoying to fuck.”

  “She seemed just fine to join in with Mel and me,” he returned with a grin.

  I gritted my teeth, pulling my neck warmer up.

  “Yeah? So you didn’t have babysitting duty last night, then?” I sneered, not caring that I brought up the one thing that we never spoke of.

  He gave me a dark look, suggesting that if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, my head was going to be the least of my problems.

  “Whatever. She wasn’t working for me,” I grumbled.

  “Seemed to think you were a little preoccupied with someone else.” I was tempted to take a different lift, but there was no way I could move that fast right now without losing my shit. So, I sat down on the chair, ready for my interrogation.

  “Yeah? Is that what she said?” I wasn’t going to offer up any more than necessary. My elbows propped on the front bar, my head resting on my hands, keeping my eyes shut as the world flew by underneath us.

  “No. That’s what I saw.” He laughed. “You do want you want King, I don’t give a fuck. But Pride certainly will if he finds out your boning his baby sister.”

  “Fuck you. I’m not fucking her.”

  Nick Frost had this way of being observant and oblivious at the same time. He came off as not paying attention or not caring about shit. But then, he could pull out a phrase you said to someone else in a crowded room from three and a half weeks ago like he had a filing cabinet of details stashed just waiting for the right time to pluck them out.

  “Not yet,” he snickered.

  “Not ever.” I growled. “Lil thinks Chance is back.”

  I pried my eyes open to see that he had a blunt between his lips, smoking on the lift as it carried us to the top. He looked at me and then nod
ded. Did he already know? Was he surprised? After how many years, I still couldn’t tell what the fuck went through his mind.

  “She’s really got you, hasn’t she?” he drawled, completely unfazed by my attempt to change the subject. I pretended not to know who he was talking about. “The little Ryder. She’s turned your dick into a leash.” He handed me the weed even as he taunted me.

  I took a long draw, hoping it would dull the pounding in my head. “What can I say? Everyone wants the King.” I relaxed back against the seat. “Glad Cassie found you to be an acceptable second-choice after I couldn’t stomach her last night.” I passed it back to him in the same fashion—with a ‘fuck you’ smile on my face.

  He grinned finished off the blunt before flicking it off the lift. “She found a lot of things last night… Seconds, thirds, fourths. Pretty sure I fucked every trace of your name from her memory. You’re welcome.”

  “Whatever.”

  “He’ll kill you if you do,” Frost continued his lecture that I was trapped listening to.

  Chance would do more than that. We crossed a lot of lines, fucked a lot of women, fucked some of the same women, sometimes at the same time. There wasn’t a lot—or anything—that was ‘too far’ for the SnowmassHoles. But this… Ally… she was too far. She was over the edge. Lil had never been a problem. She was one of us—riding with us, drinking with us, and there was never a thought about her otherwise.

  “My advice?” he mused. “Don’t want what you can’t have.”

  Fuck you, Frost. I could have her. I shouldn’t, but I could. And after last night, the scales tipped that I would. But, my head fucking hurt and I was tired of being his entertainment.

  “Yeah? Just like Tammy?”

  Tammy was like the untouchable topic for Frost. The sore truth was that he’d attempted to pursue her and she’d ignored him. Him. The one no one refused. The trust fund baby with the palace house and shiny toys. Not many people knew that he wanted her—probably on pain of death if that information was shared. She’d ignored him and so he’d done everything imaginable and every unimaginable thing to prove that he didn’t care—drugs, women, the Games. And then his dad died and all hell had broken loose.

  Even though there had never been anything between them, he still looked at her like I looked at Ally which is why any mention of her still pushed his very dark buttons.

  “You want to go there, King?” His voice was treacherously soft. “Because unlike you, I don’t give a shit about what Pride thinks about who I screw. Maybe once Zack leaves, I’ll ask Ally and her very nice ass out on a date. After all, I’m not the one who’s been an asshole to her this whole time.”

  I knew he wouldn’t. Just like he knew that his threat would work to get me to drop the Tammy topic.

  There was something more important though in what he said than the threat to me. “He’s leaving?”

  “I know you knew better than to think he would stay. Of course, he’s fucking leaving,” Nick scoffed.

  I didn’t know how he knew, but if Nick knew something, you could bet your life that it was true. Obliviously observant. He was the wolf in sheep’s clothing—watching, waiting… kind, courteous—but always cold; he chose whom to feed what information to and once everyone was distracted, he devoured his prey in peace.

  The mountain—our ride—was our truce. Like everything else in life, it was the literal common ground that let everything else fade away.

  I felt him as soon as Zack went off in search of his parents. It had been almost a week since the incident outside of Big Louie’s which meant almost a week since I’d seen Emmett in any capacity.

  There were people everywhere—it was the X Games after all, but I can’t say that really prepared me for the crush. It was worse now since the qualifying runs for Slopestyle had just finished so the crowd was trying to disperse.

  Channing had competed, posing as Chance, and from the way the crowd roared, I took it that she did well—and that no one noticed that she wasn’t the he that they were expecting. No one except Wyatt.

  I knew this was going to happen. I knew he was going to find out, but she didn’t want to listen to me. I’d even called Chance a few days ago when she told me that she wasn’t dropping out. He hadn’t answered, so I left a voicemail explaining the whole story. I knew he got our messages because we’d left enough of them to fill up his mailbox by now.

  I’d gone with Zack as soon as Channing’s run was finished in search of his brother; we found Wyatt loading up the Range Rover, still in shock that it had been Channing, his girlfriend, who’d used the help he’d given her and decided to compete in the very same competition without telling him.

  I hadn’t said much to him, but I’d said enough. At least one Ryder sibling was going to get her fairytale ending.

  I left Wyatt sorting out his feelings while I went in search of my passable Prince. A giant mistake in this crowd.

  ALLY

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  No response. I looked up and that’s when I felt the electric shiver run up my spine. Emmett was here and his eyes were on me.

  He’d disappeared after the other night, falling completely off the radar—or onto the mountain. He hadn’t come to Cup of Joe; his usual table and chair noticeably empty—just like the hole inside of my chest. He hadn’t approached Zack or me. He hadn’t said anything to Channing. Nada.

  The space was a blessing. Without his presence consuming me, I could focus on Zack—on us. It had been good.

  But now, he was back and I hated how it immediately made the past week seem empty.

  “He’s leaving, Ally,” his coldly soft voice spoke.

  The air stuck in my throat. I turned, coming face-to-face with the man who could stop my heart—whether it was painfully or pleasurably was always the gamble I took. What did he say again? I was too mesmerized by his presence—overwhelming, hot, unyielding—to remember what he said.

  He repeated more forcefully, “Zack is leaving.”

  What was he talking about? “You mean the mountain?”

  “No, I mean the country.” My jaw fell. Zack wasn’t leaving. I had my doubts for a little, but then we’d fallen back into our new relationship routine and everything had been great. Especially after Channing told me that Wyatt was staying here…

  He was wrong.

  “You’re wrong,” I informed him sharply, crossing my arms over my chest. “Wyatt and Zack are both staying.”

  His smile was tight and it turned my stomach to stone. “No, I’m not and no, they’re not.”

  My emotions were frayed like the well-worn end of an electrical wire—ready to spark and flare at the slightest provocation.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I demanded. I hated his calm confidence, like it had no effect that he was trying to topple my world—just like he always did. “Are you trying to break us up? Is that your game? Or is this just your new method of tormenting me when I wasn’t sufficiently broken after our last encounter?”

  “No.” Someone bumped into him from behind, forcing him closer to me. The tension in his body made mine shudder like a damn domino effect. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me?” I yelled. This was outrageous. He was outrageous. He kept saying that. “What are you protecting me from? Because first it was yourself. Now, it’s someone else!”

  I was irrationally angry. He’d said—and done—far worse things to me over the past several months. Then again, the threat of another person I cared about leaving me…

  I was precariously held together by a few very thin strings that one by one kept being cut; his words were just one more snip in my sanity.

  Like most, I lashed out in fear, hating his words, hating his calm, hating my reaction, and hating the gnawing in my abdomen that told me they were true.

  My lip trembled as I spoke, “Do you just want me to be alone? Is that it? Are you trying to shelter me into seclusion? Is that what you want? For me to have no one left? No happiness left?” I told
myself the tears weren’t falling; I knew from his face that they were.

  I turned and pushed blindly through the crowd knowing he wouldn’t follow me; it was never like that between us.

  I spotted Zack up further along the path walking with his parents, smiling, and laughing. So handsome, so nice, so charming… I wanted him to stay because I wanted to make it work.

  He’s leaving, Ally, my fear whispered to me, taunting me with a voice that sounded like my very real tormentor.

  I didn’t know how many strings were left before I fell apart. The problem with strings wound too tightly is you can only tell just before they break.

  Pop.

  8. I hate how he pretends not to know that he’s the reason I’m drowning.

  Three months ago—Halloween

  THERE ISN’T MUCH IN THIS world more painful than a broken heart. Except having it broken twice.

  “I regret letting you talk me into this,” my bandana-wearing, sword-wielding sister grumbled in the driver’s seat next to me.

  “We need to have some fun, mate-y.” My best impression of a pirate’s drawl wasn’t too bad; then again, I’d been practicing all morning. “It’s Killer Karaoke night.”

  And it had been a month since Chance had disappeared from his rehab in the hospital with no word or warning. No call to let us know he was ok. No nothing.

  But by this point in the year, I was—well, not ‘used to’ people I love being taken from me unexpectedly, because how do you ever get used to something like that? But, I guess I could just say I wasn’t surprised.

  There were so few people here that I truly cared about that I thought Colorado would be a safe place for my broken heart. Instead, the pieces had been pressed into a fine snow-like powder that I was sure would blow away with the wind any day now.

  I wished I could have been like Channing. Maybe it was because they were twins that she managed to hold her shit together. Maybe she could sense that he was ok and that’s why her anger with him was higher than her hurt. I, on the other hand, had been devastated.