Frosted (Frosted Series Book 1)

by Taylor Rose

  Figgy’s Olympic Routine-Russia 2014

  Shock rippled through my body. My muscles locked into place. My mouth ran dry.

  Shaking my head, I looked at the writing again. Maybe I read it wrong. I had to have read it wrong.

  Nope, reading it the second time, it said the same thing as the first time.

  Holy fuck.

  Is this what I think it is?

  It couldn’t be possible. Right?

  This was only a few years ago, we’re in the middle of February in 2017 for fucks sake. Which would make this only like two years and a few months ago.

  Jesus Christ.

  Grabbing all of the DVD’s in the television stand, I placed them at the bottom of one of the totes. Opening the door to the compartment I looked inside closer this time. Stacks and stacks of VHS tapes lined the back of the television stand. Realizing that they might be important, I grabbed them all and put them in the same bag as the DVDs.

  My mind was still spinning as I grabbed the pile of coats and shoved them into the same bag, cramming them inside so that they covered the VHS tapes and DVDs.

  Before I did anything, I would have to watch that video to see what I was actually dealing with. Until I see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe anything.

  But still, holy fucking shit, Batman.

  Grabbing an empty tote bag, I ran into the bathroom and grabbed everything I could find. Every bottle of soap, shampoo, conditioner, razor, both tooth brushes and both tubes of toothpaste. There was even a box of tampons that I stuck in the bag. I grabbed the towels and wash cloths that were hanging on the towel rack, stuffing them into the back as well. By the time I was done with the bathroom, the only thing left in it was toilet paper, which I did not need to grab.

  I packed up the bathroom in record time, which was good considering I spent so much time looking at Figgy’s special DVD.

  I placed the tote bag full of bathroom stuff next to the one filled with DVD and VHS tapes. Figgy and Squirt still hadn’t come out to the living room yet, so I decided to check on Squirt first. I grabbed an empty tote bag to bring with me just in case, which left one more laying on the couch.

  I stopped dead in my tracks outside of Squirts door. She was rummaging around through the chest at the end of her bed, trying to find something. Her toys and shit was scattered across the floor of her room as if a hurricane had found its way in. Amused, I watched as she leaned into the truck, her little legs flailing about in the air.

  I chuckled.

  “Ughhh,” she yelled, clearly stuck.

  Walking over, I grabbed her waist and lifted her out, placing her feet back on solid ground.

  She huffed, upset about having to be fished out.

  “Thanks, Jumbo,” she mumbled under her breath.

  I laughed.

  “No problem, Squirt,” I said my chest all rumbly. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  Looking over on her bed, she had one pink glittery backpack with some cartoon character on it filled and zipped up tight. From the looks of it, it hooked over her shoulders so she could carry it. Another pink suitcase looking bag was laying open on her bed and was only partly full. She grabbed her stuffed animal and added it to her second bag, filling it a little more. Looking in her trunk, she only had one more thing at the bottom which was what she had to have been trying to grab when I walked in.

  Leaning down, I grabbed it for her and placed it in her suitcase. She zipped closed her rolling suitcase and huffed.

  Her closet was still open with a decent amount of clothes hanging up. Empty bag in hand, I walked over there and pulled her clothes out and shoved them inside the bag. After all of her clothes were packed, I grabbed her flip-flops and tennis shoes and shoved them in the bag as well.

  “Got everything, Squirt?” I asked her, my eyes watching her as she tried to put the first bag over her shoulders.

  “Yup,” she exclaimed as a smile took over her face. Her backpack must have been heavy because every step she took, her whole body wobbled.

  I chuckled as I watched her attempt to walk in a straight line. It was hilarious.

  I grabbed her second back and rolled it into the living room. I followed Squirt to the couch and placed her bags there.

  She was huffing and puffing, trying to catch her breath. Too damn cute.

  Letting her catch her breath, I grabbed the last bag and walked back down the hallway to find Figgy rushing around her room like a bat outta hell.

  Grabbing everything in sight and throwing it in her suitcases, she was running around like a kid on a sugar high. Rather than watch her, I jumped in and helped out. I grabbed everything I could and helped her pack. It didn’t look like she had any kind of system going on, so I just threw everything in her suitcases.

  We worked in complete silence.

  Her room almost looked bare, and while she grabbed the last of her shit I opened her closet and pulled all of her clothes out. I pushed some of them into her suitcases, but once those were full I shoved the rest into the tote bag I had in my hand.

  Looking to the floor, I realized she still had a shit ton of shoes that needed to be packed. With hardly any room, I grabbed as many pairs as I could, knowing I was going to have to come back and grab the rest of them another time.

  Why do women own so many goddamn pairs of shoes?

  I raked my hands through my hair letting my fingernails scratch my scalp.

  I contemplated the female brain trying to find a rational reason for needing so many pairs of shoes.

  I’ll probably never know.

  Figgy zipped up her suitcases and dropped them on the floor. Before she could walk out of the room, I snaked my arms around her waist and pulled her into my chest. Her arms wrapped around my middle and her head burrowed into my collarbone. I took a deep breath, letting her scent fill my nostrils.

  She tilted her head so that she was looking at me with her baby blues. Her insecurity pouring from them right into me as if her feelings were my own.

  Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers. Her eye lids fluttered closed, and she gripped my shirt in her hands, pulling me closer to her body.

  I pushed my tongue into her mouth, sweeping mine over hers, letting the taste of her coat my mouth. I savored every single second of her cinnamon flavor.

  She moaned as my hands slid down her back, caressing her body. My fingers brushed the curve of her ass and grabbed her ass cheeks in my hands, squeezing them. She nipped at my bottom lip with her teeth, making my dick spring to life in my jeans.

  It was so hard; it was throbbing in tune with my pulse. A drop of pre-cum soaked into my boxers.

  All I wanted to do was sink my cock deep into her soaking wet pussy over and over again.

  Pulling back, I released Figgy’s lips. She blinked, trying to clear her vision.

  Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. God, she was fucking beautiful. So beautiful, it fucking hurt.

  Arousal hummed through my veins, begging to be released.

  Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time for that. All I wanted was a little kiss to tide me over. I didn’t realize that it would turn into a something so erotic. Kissing her like that made me want to jump her bones. Right here. Right now.

  Taking a deep breath, I let the all of the tension flow out of my body.

  “Ready, baby?” I asked her, in a huskier than normal voice.

  Her hooded eyes locked on mine, her arousal swirling in their depth.

  She sunk her teeth into her plump bottom lip and nodded.

  Fuck me.

  “Then let’s get the hell outta here,” I practically growled, unable to lock up the beast roaring inside my head. He was stalking his prey, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Prowling around, uncontrolled.

  Each time we kissed, a little more of my self-control slipped.

  Soon, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking exactly what I wanted,
which was Figgy’s legs wrapped around my waist with my cock buried balls deep in her tight pussy.

  Packing up my apartment was surreal.

  I never thought it would be so easy to just up and leave the only place that had ever been mine.

  But it was necessary.

  Not only because my crazy ex-boyfriend cut me up like chopped liver, but because I needed a fresh start.

  I was closing off one chapter of my life, ready to start a new one. A better one. A more fulfilling one.

  Staying with Kieran for a while would be good for me. It would give me some time to get back on my feet before finding a new place to live. No way was I going to live at my old apartment, the bad memories there made my body shiver with dread.

  Sitting on the couch in Kieran’s living room, I watched as he carried bag after bag of our stuff into his house. He carried them effortlessly, as if they weighed nothing when in fact they had to be pretty heavy. His muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt, making me salivate.

  What I wouldn’t give to have his naked body laying over mine, his hands caressing my naked body while his dick pounded into my pussy all while his mouth claimed mine with a searing kiss.

  My pussy quivered at the thought.

  Blood crept up my neck and into my face, another light blush painted my cheeks. This is becoming a thing.

  Shaking my head, I pushed those thoughts out of my head and focused on the manila envelope in my hands.

  Ripping open the seal, I pulled the papers out of the folder and set them on my lap.

  The couch dipped with Kieran’s weight, and my body gravitated towards him. He pulled me in his arms protectively and placed a kiss on my temple.

  Aqua was in her room unpacking all of her stuff. She was super excited to find new spots for all of her toys and clothes. Knowing she was going to be busy for a while, we decided to sit down and have a much needed chat. A grown up chat.

  Looking down at the papers in my hand, we read exactly what I needed to do to take care of my cuts. There was nothing I could do to keep them from scarring. I scowled at the information, it was so basic it made me want to laugh.

  -Clean area twice a day with soap and water, and add disinfectant gel immediately.

  -Don’t physically exert yourself.

  -Take one antibiotic pill once a day for fourteen days.

  -Stay away from unclean areas for a few weeks to ensure it doesn’t get infected.

  -Check back with your primary doctor after you take your last antibiotic pill.

  “Seriously? This is it? You’re joking,” I chuckled as I read over the list again.

  “Why would he make us wait for this? He already explained this to us before we left,” Kieran wondered aloud.

  “And you thought I shouldn’t go to work,” I teased him, happy that I was going to get my way.

  “He made it seem worse-” his voice trailed off as he flipped to the next page. His body coiled tight, his muscles clenched together and his breathing became rapid.

  Looking down, I gasped.

  My stomach bottomed out. My palms started to sweat. My hands shook. Fear swirled in my belly. Vomit rose up my throat, threatening to spill out.

  I jumped to my feet and ran to the bathroom slamming the door shut in the process. Falling to my knees in front of the toilet, I let the contents of my stomach purge from my body.

  My eyes stung with tears and my throat burned.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks and landed in small splashes on the bathroom floor.

  Taking a deep breath, I stood up and moved in front of the sink. Using Kieran’s toothbrush, I brushed my teeth, getting the nasty flavor out of my mouth. Using the pad of my forefingers, I wiped my tears away. Looking up, I stared at my reflection for a minute. I knew that I could be strong. That I had to be strong.

  Nausea flitted my stomach just thinking about the pictures I had just looked at.

  Those images would be burned in my brain for the rest of eternity.

  Squaring my shoulders, I walked out of the bathroom and sat down next to Kieran again.

  His head was slumped down until I moved my hand to rest on his leg. His head shot up, his eyes connected to mine. Worry clung to his gaze, his fingers intertwined with mine to give me strength.

  I nodded my head, ready to listen to the story. Steeling my stomach, I made sure to be strong because this was something I needed to hear.

  “Figgy,” Kieran murmured, his voice cracking.

  “I need to know, Charming. It’s not a choice, it’s a must,” I said.

  He blew out a breath.

  “I… Okay… How should I start this?” he muttered to himself as he raked his other hand through his hair, tugging on the end of it.

  “Forty years ago, traces of a serial killer were found. He had a certain type of victim. White females, ages between twenty and thirty, height five foot three inches to five foot nine inches, long blonde hair and blue eyes,” he explained to me as he rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. “Traces of rope were found on their wrists and ankles, showing that they were bound, unable to move. Duct tape was covering their mouths. They had nasty words cut into the skin under each breast, on their stomachs, and on the top of their vaginas. They had bruises on their bodies as if they had been beaten. They died from one stab wound to the heart, the knife was always left in their bodies. If that wasn’t bad enough, each of them were raped post-mortem. After they were already dead.”

  My body was un-moving as I listened to what he told me. I was hardly able to process what he was saying. There was no way. I mean, Buzz was only thirty, and he couldn’t have been doing that stuff to women at such a young age. And yet, he did almost everything the exact same way this serial killer had.

  I nodded my head, urging Kieran to continue. I could tell he wanted to say more by the way he was looking at me.

  “The called him ‘The Vulgar Barber’ and he was never caught,” he whispered, horrified.

  Bile started rising up my throat, but I pushed it back down. “No wonder the doctor looked like he saw a ghost the night we brought you in. He kind of had.”

  Kieran cursed.

  This was bad. This was so fucking bad that I couldn’t even wrap my head around it.

  Each time I learned something new I was left with more questions than answers.

  Unable to form my thoughts into words, I stayed silent.

  “He got away,” Kieran whimpered, as if it was painful to say.

  My back snapped ram rod straight.

  “Who got away?” I asked, my voice horse and breaking.

  Kieran looked so forlorn. His eyes darkened, the color looking like a dark chocolate. Dangerously sexy.

  “Buzz… he wasn’t at your apartment that night when the cops got there. They haven’t been able to find him,” he said. “This is even worse than I thought.”

  No fucking way.

  How was that even possible?

  Looking at Kieran, I realized he was blaming himself. But it wasn’t his fault, none of this was his fault.

  “You can’t blame yourself, Charming. None of this was your fault,” I stressed, my voice pleading with him.

  “Rationally in my mind, I know that. But my heart is irrational, and it feels like I could have done something more to stop him,” he explained.

  I nodded my head, fully understanding what he meant.

  Rational and irrational.

  Yin and yang.

  Good and bad.

  Two sides to the same coin.

  One can’t be without the other.

  “What are we gonna do?” I asked him, wondering if he has some kind of plan. I couldn’t think of anything other than fear.

  I inhaled courage and exhaled my fear.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Kieran said as he snapped his fingers together.

  I took a deep, calming breath.

  Thank fucking god.

  *****
r />   It’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get back up again.

  Whenever something goes wrong, that’s the first thing that goes through my mind to remind me that strength comes in many different forms.

  Picking yourself back up after you’ve been knocked down makes you stronger than you were before.

  My stomach churns in disgust at what I’ve learned today. My heart hurts for those women and their families. I can’t even fathom how they must feel.

  I thought what happened to my Figgy was bad, but looking at those pictures and reports made me realize it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

  Grabbing the phone out of my pocket, I dialed the one person who might be able to help me.

  The phone rang in my ear three times before he picked up.

  “What’s up, King?” Declan Saber asked, his voice dangerously deep.

  I swallowed down a bit of saliva.

  “I need your help,” I said. “Figgy needs to be placed into protective custody.”

  To my right, Figgy sucked in a shocked breath.

  Saber coughed.

  “I already hired her a private body guard, man. He’s the best of the best. He should show up at your house tomorrow, thirty minutes before practice. His name is Sight Anderson and he owns Anderson Incorporated, the biggest security company in Alaska,” Saber explained.

  “You already what? You’re serious man? Why would you do that?”

  The line was eerily quiet for about a minute before he answered me.

  Saber cleared his throat. “I saw what happened to her, man. I knew she was going to need it,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

  “Thank you, dude. I need one more favor though,” I pressed, hoping his hospitality hadn’t run out yet.

  “What do you need?”

  “Figgy’s little sister, Aqua, has school Monday through Friday from eight in the morning to three in the afternoon. I’d like a bodyguard to take her to and from school if possible. I’ll pay for it,” I pleaded with him. No way in hell could I let Squirt go anywhere unprotected. No fucking way.

  Next to me, Figgy exhaled in relief. She had been worried about the same thing.