The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  And when we climbed into her car, it happened again. Blink. We were pulling up the windy drive to the Ryder mountain retreat. Blink. Tear. Blink. Vanilla and lavender overwhelmed my senses and I began coughing.

  “Chance!” Jessa yelled. “Can you turn off the tart burner?”

  Footsteps came from the basements steps and then Chance appeared, his face tightening as he looked at me; he knew what—who—had made me like this.

  “You mean the fucking fart burner?” he grumbled, walking into the kitchen and unplugging the electric wax burner from the wall.

  I wanted to laugh. Almost as much as I wanted to disintegrate into dust—into particles that couldn’t hold pain, floating in air that was clear of agony, and disappearing into the wide-open sky that knew nothing of things like coldness, betrayal, and frost.

  I bent over with a groan as a wave of pain and nausea washed over me.

  “Shit, Tam,” Jessa said as she guided me over to the couch. “Sit. I’m going to make you some tea. Are you okay?”

  Curling back into the ball that she’d found me in, I nodded dumbly.

  Blink.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked quietly, setting my mug of hot tea on the coffee table and plopping herself right on the floor in front of me.

  With a grimace that I tried to hide, I sat up and took my tea from the table. I hated the worry in her eyes. I was supposed to be the strong one—the mom. I was supposed to be the one to run to, the one with the calm and the answers.

  We are supposed to be the strong one, Heart.

  I took a sip of the burning liquid, hearing nothing but the echo of my own thoughts in the cavern of my chest; my heart was gone.

  In typical Tammy-fashion, I adjusted the pillows next to me on the couch, righting them before I began to speak. With an eerie calm that suggested I was giving a PowerPoint presentation on the moon rather than confessing the tale of how my heart was broken, I told Jessa what had happened. From the discussion—or lack of them—about Eliza to the conversation with Lila to the interrogation by Stone, and finally to walking in on Nick and Eliza embracing.

  I jumped, hearing a glass slam down on the counter behind me; Chance was listening in. I watched Jessa’s eyes give him a look that said he better stay calm and stay quiet.

  Clearing my throat, I gave her a tight smile.

  “I’m sorry, Jess,” I said, gritting my teeth as another sharp pain seared through my abdomen. “I shouldn’t have called—”

  “Don’t,” she cut me off angrily. “Don’t even say it, Tammy. How many times do I—we—have to tell you that we are here for you?”

  My vision flickered black with a jolt of pain in my torso. What was going on?

  I heard her continue through the darkness, “I don’t know what Nick was thinking. I can’t believe after everything… It just makes no sense. Especially the last…” she trailed off because there was no sense in repeating the words that had been and now, always would be my greatest fear. “Part of me wants to believe that there was a reason—that with everything going on in his life, that there was some semblance of rationality behind how and why he could manage to say something like that to you if he possessed a heart.”

  All this pain… this must be what it felt like when a heart broke; there was no other reason for it.

  “He doesn’t,” Chance’s deep voice growled from the kitchen. “I can’t fucking believe—”

  “Chance!” Jessa stopped him harshly. “Not. Now.”

  I cried out, dropping my mug and spilling tea all over the area rug in the living room as I doubled over with pain.

  “Tammy!” Jessa took the mug from my hand and sat next to me. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

  “I think… I just need to lie down for a little while,” I said, mumbling something about the stress of the day upsetting my stomach.

  I reached for the tissues and tried to bend over to wipe up where the liquid had puddled on the rug, but Jessa ripped them from my hand. “Seriously?” she scoffed. “Don’t even think about it. I’m taking you upstairs to Ally’s room so you can rest.”

  I apologized again for making a mess. For being a problem.

  She scolded me. Again. For not knowing how to let someone else take care of me.

  I knew how to let someone take care of me, I thought, as I climbed under the clean sheets in Ally’s room. The problem wasn’t the knowing, it was the trusting.

  I took care of myself because I didn’t trust anyone else to. Because I felt like I was sick and broken and I should be the only one held responsible for dealing with that; I didn’t want to be a burden.

  So, I played it safe.

  And it was soul-crushing moments like this that had me almost convinced that I was right.

  I woke up with a pained gasp, my knees jerking into my stomach as it felt like a knife had just been shoved right into my gut. I turned my face into the wet pillow where it had been resting—proof that I’d actually been crying in my sleep from the pain.

  Something wasn’t right.

  I’d known it for a while, but I’d put it off. My surgery was on Thursday, what were the chances that something would happen just before it?

  This wasn’t the endometriosis though. This was much worse, I thought, as I half-rolled out of the bed, unable to stand up straight. As soon as my feet hit the floor, nausea drowned my senses. Reaching blindly for the small trash can underneath the nightstand, I just managed to pull it in front of my face before the remnants of my breakfast smoothie emptied into it. The second time I heaved, presumably for my body to try to get rid of my non-existent lunch, nothing else came up. Groaning, I wobbled and fell into the side of the bed, coming to land on the floor with painful force.

  Breathe.

  I dragged in air, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the pain or stop the nausea. Another empty heave and subsequent burning throat a minute later, I forced myself back up. I needed to get to the doctor.

  I shouldn’t have looked in the mirror on the closet door because it was death personified that stared back. Yes, my heart still wished that I could turn to dust, but the way I looked made it seem like I might have wished too hard. My face was drawn and ashen. Even from a slight distance, I could see the sheen of sweat over my skin even though I shivered with a chill. My limbs felt heavy, but my head felt light.

  Get to the door.

  I breathed again when my hand reached around the knob.

  Get to the stairs.

  I groaned as my foot slid down onto the first step.

  Get to—

  “Tammy!” Jessa screamed, taking the stairs two at a time and wrapping her arms around me just as I was about to sink down against the banister. “Chance!” I heard her bone-chilling cry before my head lolled to the slide. “Call 911.”

  “Tammy!” Jessa grabbed my face between her hands. They were soft and warm, and I was so cold. “Tamsin! What’s wrong? Tell me what’s going on? Is this the cancer?”

  Why was she calling me Tamsin?

  “Don’t know,” I slurred, groaning with pain. “It hurts a lot. A lot… Jess.”

  Blink.

  Ambulance lights were bright; its sirens blared brighter.

  Blink.

  “I don’t know what happened. She was having stomach pains and went upstairs to lie down and the next thing I know, she’s on the stairs,” Jessa broke off with a sob, “no color to her face, clammy skin, and then she practically collapsed. S-she was dry heaving right before you got here.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” a deep voice responded. “You can meet us at the hospital.”

  “No. No, absolutely not. I’m not leaving her.” Jessa was full-on angry sobbing right now.

  I couldn’t see her—it was too hard to open my eyes, but I could hear her. I wanted to tell her to calm down, that I was going to be fine. I tried to tell her, but the pain kindly translated all of my words into tortured moans. She shouldn’t be so upset. Where was Chance? He should tell her not to be s
o upset. I wanted to tell her not to worry; she shouldn’t be worrying about me. I was just going to go with the nice EMTs and find out what felt like it was killing me.

  But I couldn’t say any of those things because my thoughts were trapped in a fog of agony and they couldn’t see the way out.

  “Ma’am—”

  “Don’t you ma’am me!” I could hear her Texan accent thickening angrily; anyone could tell when Jessa was becoming emotional because her Southern twang came out in full force.

  Oh, Jessa.

  “It’s against the rules, Miss, if you aren’t immediate family,” the EMT pressed.

  I could feel the suction on my arm for my blood pressure. I could feel the cold steel against my chest as they listened to my lungs and heart. I could feel the needle as he started me on an IV drip. I heard his boots on the steps down from the vehicle and one door closing shut.

  “Jessa…” Her name came out too softly for her or anyone to hear; I think I could only hear the breath as it resonated inside of my head. What was wrong with me? I’d been fine this morning. For the most part…

  I tried to wave my hand, to gesture to Jessa to just go and meet us there. I don’t think it moved from over my stomach, afraid that if it let go the pain would explode out of me.

  “Let me tell you something. Everything is bigger in Texas, including the boot that I’m going to put up your fucking ass if you don’t let me in this fucking ambulance right fucking now,” Jessa continued defiantly, her voice practically a yell as even Chance couldn’t hold her back.

  “Christ, just get in,” the EMT said gruffly.

  No one messed with Jessa Lynn Madison.

  “I’m here, Tam,” she said tearfully, pulling my arm up to her chest. “I’m so sorry, Tammy. I wish I knew what’s going on. I’m so scared.” Her hand disappeared and then when it came back to mine, it was cold and wet from where she’d wiped her tears. “This is always the part where I call you or I come to you and you tell me, calmly, that everything is going to be okay. You always know what to say. I wish I knew what to say, Tammy. Just know that I’m here. I’m not leaving, ok? I’m right here.”

  My head lolled to the side and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t need words; having her here with me was enough.

  “I seriously was about to hijack the ambulance if that guy wasn’t going to let me in here,” she made a weak attempt to joke, but her voice sounded just as scared as I felt.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed. I couldn’t focus on her response because the pain worsened again. My teeth sunk into my chapped lips as it felt like my stomach was being ripped from my abdomen.

  Blink.

  Poked and prodded. Scanned and examined. At least they must have given me something for the pain, but it made me so sleepy. I wished my mom were here. I wished Frost was holding me.

  “We’ve ruled out appendicitis and kidney stones…”

  One more piece of my Jenga tower was pulled out, uncertainty written on it.

  “All that? All that time? And it’s neither of what you thought it was?”

  Jessa was frustrated. How long had I been here?

  “We’re taking her in for a CT scan now. If you want to go home, ma’am, we can call you as soon as we know anything…”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  She was so stubborn. I was so sleepy.

  “There’s a mass in her right ovary. We are going to ultrasound to confirm…”

  Another Jenga piece gone from my ominously swaying tower.

  I wondered if Nick was watching a movie right now with Lila and Eliza. I wondered how excited Lila must have been to meet her mom. Probably as excited as I was when I’d found her and saw for myself that she was okay.

  Lord, I don’t care what happens to me. Please, let them be happy.

  “There is a cyst in her right ovary…”

  Cancer. Cyst. How did I get so lucky? Two more pieces of the tower removed.

  “Ruptured…”

  The Jenga tower was now officially named the Leaning Tower of Tammy, the way it swayed with precarious ease.

  “Emergency surgery…”

  Crash.

  We. All. Fall. Down.

  IT’S AMAZING HOW FUCKING FAST the world can go from bad to a total shitstorm.

  I’d been calling Jackson all morning trying to get an update. He said this week; he said he had something. Only when I called, the only thing I got was his answering machine.

  I knew I’d strained things between Tammy and me when I refused to talk to her about Eliza, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t risk it—and not just for me and my daughter’s sake. I knew the tone that Eliza had spoken to me with; she was pleased with herself because she thought she finally had something to get me to do exactly what she wanted.

  Which is why I was desperate to at least get some sort of inkling about what Jackson knew, but he didn’t pick up.

  And when I pulled into the drive, anxious and irritated and just needing the fucking sight of Tammy to calm down the chaos that was brewing in every fiber of me, I saw a bright red Mercedes C-class parked by the guest house. There was only one person who would pick out something so ostentatious.

  Eliza was here.

  And my first fear was that she’d gotten to Tammy.

  I threw open the front door to the guest house and stalked inside. Nothing. No one. Silence.

  And then the unfamiliar click of heels against the marble that affected me more like nails down a chalkboard. Every muscle tightened like I was about to be thrown into an ultimate fighting competition, prepared to tear anyone and everything apart.

  “Nicky,” Eliza cooed huskily, coming into view from the kitchen, holding a water bottle that I’d bet any money she took from my fridge. She looked just as she always did with her short leather skirt, fishnets, low-cut white blouse, and red heels—trying to look classy and like a hooker at the same time. She’d never realize that the combination didn’t work.

  “I should call the police and have you arrested for trespassing,” I said coldly, walking up to her, ready to forcibly remove her from the property.

  “You could…” She trailed off slyly, “but then I’d have to tell them that I was only here because I was worried about my daughter living in a house with illegal drugs on the premises.”

  “I don’t have any drugs in the house,” I ground out, “I’ve grown the fuck up.”

  “Hmm,” she hummed as a smile that was purely devious spread onto her face. “Well, you might have some in the house now.”

  “What the fuck have you done?” I stepped around her, beginning to open and close drawers in the kitchen, searching for the drugs that she had planted. “Was this your brilliant plan that you seem so pleased with?”

  She cackled. “Oh no, Nicky. This was just insurance so that you didn’t call the police.”

  Evil is not attractive—no matter how dressed up, made up, or fucked up the mask is; it’s still a mask. And Eliza Blackman was all evil.

  “Why are you here, Eliza?” I asked, not giving her even a glance as I continued to search for whatever shit she’d put inside my house.

  “I want you, Nicky,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly.

  She didn’t want me. There was only one thing in life that she wanted and it was dirty and green.

  “Stop wasting both of our time. You know I’d rather cut off my dick than be with you,” I scoffed, drawing from the well of coldness that only she and my stepfather could inspire.

  Her face fell and the ugly snarl that had been hiding behind the veil of pleasantries came out.

  “I want money. A lot of it,” she replied. “And I’ll leave you and the brat alone.”

  “Eliza, I know being observant isn’t really within the realm of your capabilities, however, since you haven’t noticed, I live at home with parents that I hate. What makes you think that I have money to give to you?”

  She laughed and for the first time since I’d been in her presence, dread snak
ed up my spine.

  “Oh, Nicky.” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, glancing down to make sure that it had pushed up what looked like fake tits. Funnily enough, Eliza looked like she belonged in this house—with each and every expensively fake part of her.

  I couldn’t wait to get out of here with Lila… and Tammy.

  “Do you think I would have come if I didn’t know that that wasn’t the truth?” she asked.

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded, stalking up to her and, looking over her shoulder, realizing that I’d left the goddamn front door open.

  “I know about the Bitcoin, Nick,” she said tightly, her eyes narrowing into malicious slits.

  My skin turned to ice. How the fuck did she know?

  “And I want some of that delicious profit to go away quietly,” she said with a smile, her hands moving to rest on my biceps, rubbing up and down my arm.

  Could I cut my arms off? I didn’t need them, right?

  “And why would I give you anything?” I asked tightly, careful not to respond to her.

  “Because, I know you took my darling daughter out of the state last weekend and I don’t think you’re allowed to venture quite that far on your little parole set-up that you’ve got going on here.”

  I hated how she knew that every word was the truth. I hated how she thought she had the upper hand springing this on me and making me feel like I had no choice. I hated how, at the moment, she was right.

  “I also wonder how the state would feel knowing that you were sleeping with the brat’s little mousy teacher—the one you hired and assured Child Services was here solely for Lila.”

  I wanted to strangle her. I knew it; I fucking knew it.

  She batted her eyelashes at me like she was fucking innocent, grinning while adding, “I wonder what that would do to her career. I can’t imagine anything good…”

  “Why would I care what happens to her?” I asked trying to appear as callous as necessary to make her think that Tammy meant nothing to me. “You of all people should know how low my fuck-standards drop when I’m bored.” I sneered, enjoying the flash of rage across her face.