Buried Alive

by Brown, Stacey Marie

  I tried not to flinch at her dig. “I don’t know, Mom.” My arms folded, rubbing at the chill, which still coated them. “I didn’t think past spending Christmas with you guys and working with Dad while I figured out my next step.”

  She slowly shook her head, inhaled a sharp breath, but nodded. “Your father is going to blow a fuse when he hears you left school.”

  “He would be a little more understanding if he saw my grades,” I muttered more to myself.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Mom shifted on her feet, her high heels left under the table in a lump.

  “Are you working today?” She nodded at my uniform.

  “Yeah, I should get back. Oscar kind of stuck me taking care of one of the VIP clients.” There was no way in hell I would tell her who.

  She didn’t respond.

  “I’m going to head back,” I said quietly. “Have a good day.”

  “You too,” she replied. I gave one last look over my shoulder as I went through the door. She watched me, pain in her eyes, as if I was breaking her heart.

  No. It was the other way around.

  Chapter Eight

  Rhys

  “The swelling has gone down a little, which is a good sign.” Dr. Morris set aside the soggy bag of melted ice on the table and rewrapped my knee. “But you still need to keep ice on it.”

  Dr. Morris was a renowned doctor in sports medicine and therapy. Just shy of fifty, Asian descent, she kept her slightly graying hair in a short bob. She met her husband, Allen Morris, another sports therapist, while they were the on-call doctors for the competitions. Over the years I had seen them both, usually for this same knee, due to a stupid move I made eight years ago while angry at the world and drinking. Not a good combo.

  “I’ll go get some.” Shaun jumped up, worry still creasing his features. He tended to hover over me when I got injured.

  The last few days since the injury had passed by in a haze of doctors and sports therapists. Graham was frequently here, asking the doctors when it would be okay to get me back on my feet. He was keen to set up some interviews. Carrie had stopped by a dozen times, always bringing food. She seemed to have sensed, some women’s intuition, I wanted another person to deliver my meals. When Hannah did come, my room was always buzzing with people, and she slipped in and out, not even looking in my direction.

  Hopefully I’d get a chance to see her more since competition for the girls’ snowboarding started tomorrow, taking Carrie away for the rest of the week. There was no way she wouldn’t be heading to the Olympics too, and her focus would be on her performance the next couple of days.

  “No, Shaun.” I stopped him at the door. “You are going to get out of this room like I told you yesterday.”

  “Rhys…”

  “Shaun.” I sighed. “You haven’t moved from that spot in days. Get some sleep, take a shower, go get drunk or laid. I don’t care…just get out of here.” Pushing myself higher on the bed, I added, “Actually do them all, especially the last one. You fucking need to.”

  Shaun folded his arms, a frown ticking at his mouth.

  “I’m serious.” I challenged his look. “When was the last time you got laid?”

  “None of your—”

  “Two years ago. I remember. Because it was the last time your grumpy face actually had a smile on it. Now go!”

  Dr. Morris stood, poker-faced to our talk. In her line of work, I had no doubt she had heard it all. She gathered her items, patted me on the foot, and left while Shaun still stood there.

  “Do I need to call security?” I curled back into my pillow, a grin sliding up the side of my mouth. The painkillers were kicking in.

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I want you to keep your knee up. If you need to go to the bathroom, shower, call me. Don’t do it on your own.”

  “Kind of missing the point of you taking the day off.”

  “I’m not kidding, Rhys. You step on it wrong, take one slip…and all you’ve worked for is gone.”

  “Stop worrying.” I leaned my head back on the bedframe. Out the window, I could see the early afternoon sky colored in shades of whites, the snow fluttering softly down on my balcony, covering it in fresh powder. I ached to go outside and drive my board through the pure, smooth layer, marking it with my tracks. Three days of being in this room and I was going stir crazy. The Shining was looking more like a documentary.

  “Never going to happen, son.” He grabbed his jacket off the arm of the sofa. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m going to watch some TV, get lunch, sleep…then you know, have a crazy sex party, and possibly jump off the balcony naked. Is it okay with you?”

  “As long as you wear condoms and a helmet.”

  A guffaw rumbled from my chest.

  He turned for the door, giving me a nod before he shut it, leaving the room in stillness at last. The only sound, if it could be called one, was the soft patter of snow outside my double doors.

  Silence…I was never any good with it, but in the relentless activity and people streaming through for the past few days, I longed for one moment by myself. Now that I had it, I felt the fear spiral through my chest. Fear of how fast I could drop into darkness. How quickly my past could come and haunt me, and once again tell me I wasn’t good enough, that I deserved it in some way.

  I sucked air through my nose and lay my head on my pillow. My eyelids turned to weights in the grip of the muscle relaxant. The dream world clawed me down.

  Bam!

  I jerked awake with a gasp, my heart pounding. Sweat lined my brow, my head still swirling with the screams of a girl. I couldn’t reach her. I couldn’t quite grasp the images as they drifted from me with every blink. I had no idea what I really dreamed, but I felt heavy. Tormented.

  Rubbing my temple, I took another deep breath, coming back to earth.

  “Hello?” A bang hit the door again.

  “Shit.” I jumped, tweaking my knee. “Ow.”

  “Room service.” The familiar voice came again.

  Hannah.

  I sat up, scrubbing my face. “Come in.”

  The door cracked, and her round ass was the first thing I saw coming into the room, the cart rolling behind her.

  “I don’t remember ordering lunch.” A grin grew on my mouth as my eyes roamed over her fitted white button-down blouse and black pants, her long hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail.

  “Your coach, Shaun, called me,” she said coolly, not looking at me.

  I huffed. Of course he did. Couldn’t help himself from mothering me.

  “Don’t tell me, he ordered me veggies and chicken breasts.” My nose sniffed at the aroma coming from her cart.

  “And a side of plain pasta.” She lifted the cover off the dishes.

  “Yum,” I replied dryly, my eyes still on her, not paying any attention to the food. Seeing her stirred something in me again. Something I couldn’t put my finger on. Had I dreamed about her? The images were lost, but an itchy sensation along my brain told me I had. What was it about this girl? I hardly knew her, but I was dreaming about her?

  “I also brought a new bag of ice.” She took the bag from the second shelf, holding it up. She wouldn’t look at me, her gaze staying firmly on the items in front of her.

  I made her nervous. A cheeky grin twitched my mouth. Playing with her was going to be fun.

  “It’s okay to admit you missed me.”

  Blue irises met mine, her jaw clenching.

  “I don’t know if I’d miss you; my aim is pretty good.” She palmed the bag of ice. “Why don’t we see, shall we?”

  “Wow, already jumping to the kinky stuff.”

  Irritation flared in her face. “If you find it sexy to get scalding food dumped in your lap, sure, let’s jump to it.”

  “Such rage... I can think of other ways to utilize that.”

  She crossed her arms, her lashes lowering. Then she exhaled, opening her eyes again.

  “I�
�m so glad to see you are not the stereotypical hot, egotistical, cocky prick I had you pegged for.”

  “You think I’m hot?” I smirked.

  Hannah let out an irritated groan, which went straight to my dick.

  “Don’t mistake cockiness with confidence.”

  “And don’t mistake confidence with being an utter douchebag.” She shoved the meal cart at me, which came to a stop several yards from my reach. “Find someone else to wait on you.” She whipped for the door, her dark ponytail swishing after her. “Because it won’t be me.”

  She made it to the door before I called after her.

  “Hannah?”

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  “You’ll be back. I need a sponge bath at seven.”

  Her lids tapered before she stepped out of the room, slamming the door. I chuckled.

  What was wrong with me? Hannah was like some scab I couldn’t help but pick at. Anger and intrigue meshed together, making me want to provoke her. Push her to her limits.

  But why?

  I needed to find out more about this girl to figure out why I wanted to torment and fuck her with the same needy desperation.

  Chapter Nine

  Hannah

  My teeth ground together, fury bristling up my spine as I descended to the first floor. Holy hell, that guy could provoke me as no other. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this angry. Matt had tried over and over to inflict an emotion from me. Anger, love, irritation, joy. Anything. Nothing he did or said ever seemed to incite me enough to feel.

  Now my hands shook and the sharp tongue I had blunted over the years popped out like a machete.

  What a cocky asshole. Fuck him.

  A dark part of me flashed an image of me actually doing that before I shook my head violently, trying to dissolve the thought from my head and consciousness.

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened. My feet moved briskly across the restaurant. The moment I entered the back of the kitchen, I spotted the person I was looking for standing at her locker.

  “You’re done, right?” I came up right beside her, folding my trembling arms over each other. The lunch rush was over; the restaurant was now closed until dinner.

  “Yeah.” Siena’s gaze moved over me in concern. “Why?” She turned to face me. Whatever she saw widened her brown eyes. “Shit, what happened? You look as though you could use a drink…or maybe two.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Colorado?” Siena grabbed her jacket and bag, slamming the locker shut.

  “Vodka first.” I reached into my locker and retrieved my belongings.

  “Lead the way, girl. Day drinking is my favorite.”

  We got to Big Horn’s in record time, the bar full of late lunch patrons and ski bunnies warming up with hot toddies. During the holidays, the bar was always crazy, but competitions brought in even rowdier groups and clusters of press.

  We snagged two stools at the bar, ordering our first round.

  “Okay, what did Mr. Big Dick do? Or not do?” Siena settled back in her seat.

  “Nothing.” I twisted my drink on the napkin, suddenly feeling stupid for my reaction. “He simply pisses me off.”

  “Uh-huh.” Siena’s eyebrows curved up.

  “He’s cocky and arrogant. Thinks he’s some magical gift to women.” I took a sip from my straw.

  “He is a magical gift to women,” she exclaimed, tilting forward. “Have you seen the comments on Twitter about him from those lucky enough to have slept with him? Damn, I would give my entire wardrobe to do that, and you know how I feel about clothes.”

  I frowned, feeling as though someone brushed my hair the wrong way.

  “Is he trying to sleep with you?” Siena swished her hand. “Naturally he is; look at you. So… what’s the problem? It seems to me it might help you relax a bit. Just what you need.”

  “What? Siena, you know who he is, right?” My neck cranked to her. I forgot how clueless Siena was about what really happened to me. Why I needed to stay far away from him.

  “Yes, I do. But so what? Come on. I know you’ve been through a lot, but the girl I knew before…she certainly is not here.” She waved up and down me. “That girl was feisty, bold, full of life. Where is Brennley?”

  “She’s dead.” I faced forward, slamming back the rest of my drink.

  Siena watched me for a few beats before saying, “Not all of her. Rhys seems to have brought a little of her out again.”

  “Temporary insanity.” I motioned to the bartender for another, relishing the warmth infusing my muscles. “I hate I’m at his beck and call as if I’m some servant. Sorry, but your dad totally screwed me on that one.”

  “Sounds like Daddy.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I thought coming back here would help…” I rubbed my face, the bartender placing fresh drinks in front of us. “I told Mom I wasn’t going back to school earlier today.”

  “Shit. I bet that didn’t go over well.”

  “No.” I placed my arms on the bar. “I think she forgets I’m an actual adult. That I’ve been making my own decisions since I moved out of my grandma’s house at eighteen. She acts as though she wants me to be fifteen again, to match the girl in the photos on the wall.”

  “Move in with me.” Siena grabbed her second drink, slurping it down with bubbling excitement. “I have an extra room. It’s full of clothes and shoes, but I’m sure there is a bed in there.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah! It would be fun. It might help your relationship with your mom if you aren’t right under each other’s feet. I love my father, but I could never live with him again.”

  Siena lived only a quarter of a mile from him, but I got her meaning. I was sure Oscar felt different, though. He lost his wife when Siena was two to some rare disease, and Siena became his whole world. Though he worked as much as my parents, if not more, he tried to keep his precocious daughter in a bubble. Unfortunately, it made Siena act out more, sneaking behind his back to parties, having sex, drinking, drugs. The more he tried to rein her in, the more she exploded out of it.

  “Say yes.” She grabbed my wrist, squeezing it.

  I inhaled, my head bobbing. “Okay.”

  “Really?” She squealed. “Yay!” Her hand waved in the air. “T.J., triple tequila shots here.”

  “Oh hell.” My head started wagging back and forth. “No.”

  “Come on, Bren. We’re celebrating.”

  “Hannah,” I whispered to her.

  “Right. Sorry.” She grinned up at the bartender when he placed two shots of tequila in front of us. “Thank you, cutie.”

  I snorted, covering my mouth.

  T.J. had to be in his forties, over six feet tall, and resembled a bear both in body type and the amount of hair he had on his face. I had never once seen him smile.

  Until now.

  He scoffed, but a shred of a grin cracked his mouth before he shook his head, walking away. I swear, Siena could get statues to fall under her spell.

  “He’s a big softy, really,” she whispered to me conspiratorially. “Here’s to my new roomie.” She held up her shot. Our glasses clanked before we downed them together. It burned all the way to my stomach. I shoved the lime in my mouth.

  “I should warn you I bring a lot of ‘strays’ home.” She winked, peeling the lime from her teeth. “But we don’t share a wall, so it should be fine. I’d still invest in noise-canceling headphones if I were you.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Now, as your roomie…” She wiggled to the end of her chair. I could see the alcohol working through her, her eyes and cheeks bright with drink. “What are we going to do about Mr. Colorado?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What if he calls right now? Wants you to run your tiny, little butt up to his room to bring him dinner?”

  The thought pissed me off. I could feel the muscles in my neck tightening. From the moment Oscar called me, I hated this whole situati
on. I felt more like a forced servant than an employee. Oscar had even given him my cell number without asking, so Rhys could reach me anytime. And when Shaun called me earlier he had left Rhys’s number just in case. Every step I tried to take backward, someone pushed me toward him.

  “You know what? Screw him.” I went to shut off my phone. I would not be his bitch whenever he was bored and wanted to mess with me. He could get someone else to deliver his meals.

  “Wait.” Siena grabbed my phone from me, swaying on her stool. Her fingers already tapped away on my phone.

  “Siena, what are you doing?” I tried to grab it back, but she turned away from me. “What are you writing?”

  She ignored me until she finished writing. “There and sent.”

  “What!” I clamored for my cell, yanking it from her fingers, scrolling down to the last text.

  If I have to service you, it’s only fair to return the favor.

  “Siena…” I wobbled on my stool, my lids blinking. “Please tell me you didn’t really send this.”

  “Whaatt?” she slurred. “Needed to be said. And don’t tell me you don’t think that.”

  “Oh. My. Godddd.” My head hit the bar top with a groan. My cheeks felt on fire. My muscles tensed, expecting to hear my phone ring.

  Nothing.

  Over the next hour, I continued to look down, thinking I must have not heard it chime. There would be no way that cheeky bastard wouldn’t respond to the text. Night darkened the windows, people filing in for dinner, and still nothing.

  “Oh. My. My.” Siena nudged my shoulder, digging into the greasy potato skins loaded with bacon and cheese we ordered to soak up some of the alcohol. “Look at you. You cannot stop looking at your phone.”

  “Noooo. I was simp…ly checking the tiiimmme.” I focused on each word, my head foggy, my body overheated.

  “Bullshit!” Siena laughed, licking her fingers. “It drives you craaaaazy, huh? That he’s not replying?”

  “No.”

  Siena slanted her head.

  “Okay. Maybe a little.” I dropped my head into my palms. “Yes. Completely. It doesn’t seem like him.”