The Winter Games Box Set

by Rebecca Sharp

  The whole time I looked down at the iPad all I could think about was Jac and what she was going through today—and what Andrea had planned next.

  “Hey, you okay?” Jessa asked as I shoved my stuff into my gym bag, about to walk out the door.

  I was going to be a few minutes early for the meeting at this rate but I didn’t care. Better to be early.

  “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind,” I said with a sigh.

  “Yeah? Like what?” She pressed with concern. “You look like you’re about to single-handedly bring down the mountain.”

  “I will if that’s what it takes,” I bit out and then winced. “Sorry.”

  “Is it about the news this morning?” she asked quietly.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized there was no way it was a coincidence that the video footage of the argument was sent to the press. It wasn’t by chance because that conniving woman was ready and waiting for the cameras to descend on her—ready to plead some sob story and rehash the past once again.

  “Partially. Not really.” I speared a hand through my hair. “That… woman…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say her name. “I think she’s planning to hurt Jac or something during the competition.”

  “What?” Jessa gasped. “How? Why?”

  “Because she’s hateful and vindictive toward Jac for no fucking reason. She wants to ruin her career. That’s what this whole media stunt is about.” My chest felt like it was about to burst in frustration.

  I needed to protect her. Even if she didn’t think she needed it. I needed to keep her safe from all the things she swore didn’t hurt even though I saw how they made her soul bleed.

  But I couldn’t protect her until I knew exactly what I was protecting her from…

  “You think… you think she’s going to hurt her?” She didn’t mean to sound disbelieving, but I could hear it buried underneath her concerned tone.

  I knew it made no sense. But neither did Andrea’s hatred.

  And when hatred didn’t make sense, that was when it became dangerous.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not willing to take a chance,” I offered. “Frost gave me the name of a PI to talk to so that’s where I’m headed now.”

  Jessa nodded and gave my arm a squeeze. “Well, I hope everything works out. If you need anything… from any of us… you know we’re here for you.”

  “Thanks.” I gave her a tight smile and then turned and made for the door.

  Not sure what I was expecting to join me at the table I’d claimed in the corner, but it wasn’t the love child of a SEAL and a SWAT member. Alright, maybe I was expecting something along the lines of Benedict Cumberbatch dressed as Sherlock Holmes but what-the-fuck, I didn’t go talking to private investigators on a regular basis.

  Needless to say, Jackson Pyle was nothing like Mr. Holmes. No, Pyle was the kind of guy that could show up in jeans and a worn leather jacket overtop a plaid shirt, not a single threatening thing with him, but still look like the most dangerous man in the room. Not just because of his size. Actually, in spite of his size. It seemed like I was the only person in the place that noticed him when he walked in and that was because I was looking for him.

  For someone so big, he seemed effectively invisible.

  I clicked off my phone from where I’d been staring at it, hoping like hell that Jac would have called me by now but realistically knowing that she wouldn’t. Standing up and shoving the useless piece of technology in my pocket, I offered my hand in greeting, which he firmly shook with a low, succinct introduction.

  “What can I help you with?”

  “I have a problem.” I let out a loud breath as we sat. “Someone is out to hurt my girlfriend.” Girlfriend. Fuck, if that didn’t make my blood pump harder. “I don’t have any proof, but I know what is going to happen, I know it’s going to happen tomorrow night, and I need you to help me stop it.”

  A half smile quirked the side of his mouth. The leather of his jacket groaned as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared me down.

  “Sounds pretty easy when you put it like that.” The sarcasm in his voice was about as noticeable as his stature.

  “Yeah,” I scoffed. “Well, Nick Frost said you were the guy to talk to.”

  My head ducked.

  “Alright, well, if Mr. Frost thinks you had reason to call me, then I’ll hear what you have to say, but I can’t make any promises that I’ll do anything about it… that I can do anything about it. I’m supposed to be leaving town next week.”

  I nodded, gripping one hand around my fist and cracking one knuckle after another like it could relieve the tension in the rest of my body.

  Focusing on the facts as much as I could, I quickly laid out my previous concerns that I’d shared with Jac—what I overheard, the looks, the way the woman seems hell-bent on ruining her. And then I told him what I heard and saw this morning, mentioning the appropriately-timed inflammatory news stories.

  “I see,” he acknowledged with a scrutinizing stare.

  “What?”

  “Well, it’s certainly not a whole lot to go on. And you didn’t mention that we’re talking about an international sporting event. This isn’t just like ‘oh my wife is cheating on me with the milkman’ shit. You need solid fucking evidence if you are going to accuse someone of that kind of misconduct and in spite of how what you heard fits your story, that’s nowhere near solid. Nowhere.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, anger and frustration making my nostrils flare with each ragged breath. “Yeah, well that’s why I called you. If you aren’t interest—”

  “I’ll do it.” His words sliced through my doubt.

  My eyes shot open. “What?”

  “I’ll look into it,” he repeated.

  “Just like that?” I blurted out.

  “I’ve seen the news. I’ve heard what you’ve said… I’ve been doing this a long time. Even when there’s not a lot to go on, I know when to go with my gut. And my gut tells me there’s something here.” He nodded and finished calmly, “I’ll get you your proof.”

  “You think I’m right?” I didn’t want to make him doubt me, but hell, I doubted me.

  He chuckled. “I don’t get paid to think. I get paid to find out if you thought right.”

  “Fair,” I said with a shrug and before I could stop myself, I confessed, “Jac thinks I’m concerned for nothing. She thinks she has nothing left to lose—nothing left that Andrea would want from her. I want to know if you think I’m making something out of nothing. I want your opinion.”

  I knew Jac would fight me on this, so I wanted his opinion—needed it. I’d never known a person who wanted to do such harm with such hatred to someone else; if I didn’t have the burning need to keep Jac safe, if I hadn’t witnessed Andrea’s demeanor and actions myself, I’d almost think it wasn’t real.

  “And that’s why she’s not the one sitting in front of me right now,” he mused.

  “Do you think she’s going to try and hurt Jac this time?” I bit out.

  He eyed me for a minute and I could tell answering questions like this wasn’t part of his protocol. He wasn’t hired to make judgments, only to find evidence.

  He drummed his fingers on the table. And if I was surprised that he agreed to help, the fact he answered me stunned me even more.

  “Doing something after five years means she’s been plotting. It’s not just about hurting your girl physically, it’s about bringing everything down with her. If you’re right, this woman wants your girl to not just lose everything that’s important, but to lose it to her.”

  That was why going after her skis made sense. Jac wouldn’t just lose the Cup, she could potentially lose her whole career depending on the extent of the injury. And on top of it, lose it to the woman involved in her fiancé’s betrayal.

  His jaw ticked. “I’m not a psychologist. But I’d say this woman is one step shy of Tonya Harding; she’s smart enough to not have someone directly injure Jac. Too obvi
ous that it’s the runner-up. But to have it look like an accident… now that’s much more palatable with reality.”

  I flinched, remembering the incident when Harding was involved in a plot to break her figure skating rival, Nancy Kerrigan’s, leg.

  He was right. Except she wasn’t doing it to stop Jac from winning, she was doing it to make Jac lose—and with their history, there was a big difference between those two things.

  “Alright. I just need you to answer a few questions.” He pulled out a small notepad from the inside pocket of his jacket. In today’s day and age, I’d expected a smartphone or some sort of electronic device. But with Pyle, somehow this felt more appropriate. “You work patrol at the resort? What is the protocol for Friday night? How does the storage and security work?”

  I outlined what I knew about how the event worked. Competitors stored their equipment in designated lockers complete with individual keycard access, and apparently, one master key.

  “And what can you tell me about the accomplice?”

  Jeff.

  “Been running patrol for a few years now. Honestly, I don’t know much about him other than he has a wife and two kids, but I’d guess Andrea is sleeping with him just for his cooperation.”

  His eyebrows rose as he continued to jot down a few more notes.

  “And you don’t think asking your girl to not store her skis there is an option?”

  My head jerked with a wordless ‘no.’

  She’d never let Andrea have that kind of power over her. She didn’t want to believe the bitter woman would be so bold. And if she did—if I could convince her—she’d want to catch her in the act just like I was trying to.

  “Alright. I’ll handle it,” he said, scribbling a few things inside the small leather-clad pad before flipping it shut and looking back to me.

  “What’s the plan? What can I do?” I wasn’t just going to hand this off to some stranger no matter how much Frost trusted him.

  “Not get in my way,” he replied, calmly tucking the pen and pad back inside his jacket.

  My fist clenched. I didn’t like not doing anything.

  “I know that look, which is why I also know that if you try to help, you could make things worse. A helluva lot worse. Trust me. Let me do my job,” he continued. “There’s not a lot of time to get this right. One night. And either I find something or I don’t. So you take care of your girl and let me take care of this.”

  His order steeped into the air between us. It took a few seconds before I finally took a breath and ground out, “Fine.”

  He stood and then paused, “I’m going to get you your proof. Not only that, I’m going to get you a confession, and we’re going to shut her down.”

  I rose from my chair as well, meeting his steel gray stare.

  “You have my word,” he said and held out his hand.

  I shook it and watched him disappear through the afternoon re-caffeinating crowd as effortlessly as he had come.

  Now, all I had to do was talk to Jac and tell her that I’d done exactly what she’d asked me not to. Fuck. Even though circumstances had changed, I still felt guilty for talking to Pyle without her knowledge. But he was right—I was right—there wasn’t time.

  Something was happening tomorrow night, and I had to hope the ends would justify my means.

  “YOU OKAY, JAC?” MARISSA ASKED, giving me a worried look as I stood hunched over the kitchen counter staring at my blank phone screen.

  “Yeah,” I murmured.

  “Is it Kyle?” she pressed. “You said you had a great Christmas with him and his friends…”

  I looked up, knowing I’d pretty much gushed about what a wonderful time we’d had when she’d called last night.

  Biting my lip, I just gave her a weak ‘you-caught-me’ smile.

  My stomach hurt because I missed him. I missed him. After only a few hours.

  It was fucking ridiculous because I never missed guys. I never felt a lot of things like I did with Kyle, and I was still trying to sort them all out… In fact, I’d been trying all day when I should have had my head in the game.

  The competition started in less than two days and even though my body was on the mountain, my thoughts were far, far away; and Danny was ready to have my head for it. I’m surprised he didn’t lop my head off and mount it to one of my poles by the time we left the mountain to serve as a reminder of what happens when I’m not focused on the race.

  Sure, I still skied perfectly, but that had to do with my training which made all of this second nature; second nature was sufficient for every day except the ones that counted, and those days were coming very soon—those days when second nature wouldn’t cut it and only first-rate would win me the gold.

  Like in forty-eight hours.

  I flew down the slopes while my mind flew through memories. Everything that happened over the past few weeks from the moment I met Kyle through my confession and Christmas, right up to this morning when he’d left me with that kiss.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised that word got out about the fight. And I wasn’t. But it felt as though I’d been living in a snow globe wonderland for two days, experiencing a happiness I hadn’t let myself feel for a long time… only to leave the apartment this morning and have that giddy globe shattered with clips replaying of my altercation with Andrea.

  I saw it everywhere—on every screen, on every look—they were just waiting for Jaclyn Blanchard to lose her cool again. And to give them a story.

  Kyle knew the truth. So, for the first time, I wasn’t bothered by the gossip swirling around me as much as I wondered painfully if there was ever a day when it would stop.

  And that had me thinking that maybe I’d been wrong for shutting him down so harshly the other night.

  Every second of our relationship was defined by him doing everything in his power to show me he wasn’t like Evan, that he respected me and he put my wishes first even when they contradicted his—even when they went against his chivalrous core.

  I was so used to bending for Evan—to what he wanted, to make him happy, until I broke—that now, the thought of bending had become synonymous with breaking.

  But Kyle was nothing like that.

  And still, the second I heard him asking to protect me I reacted like protect meant control and control meant chaos.

  “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  I wanted to talk to her, but I felt like I was suddenly in uncharted territory and I was afraid that could have me ending up very quickly where I didn’t want to be. The last time Marissa had asked me about a guy, it had been her brother.

  “Yeah,” I squeaked again, trying to sound convincing.

  “Yeah, okay,” she drawled wryly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t need the Force to call bullshit on that one.”

  My chuckle turned into a groan just as I found the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  “I like him, Maris,” I confessed. “I really like him. Like… more than like him.”

  The way her eyes lit up looked even brighter than when she’d told me about Shawn. There was only genuine happiness where I expected to see hurt or worse, resentment. No matter what she said, no matter how in the right I was to move on from Evan, I hated the thought, rational or not, that she might think I was betraying his memory.

  “That is… amazing.” She squealed and wrapped her arms around me. “Jac, that’s amazing. Seriously, even when you win every gold this weekend, I couldn’t be any happier than I am right now.”

  “Hey!” I exclaimed, laughing into her embrace.

  “You know what I mean.” She pulled back, and I tried not to notice how she wiped the corners of her eyes with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “Seriously, it’s been too long.”

  “Yeah…” I ducked my head.

  “So, what’s wrong? What did he do?” She searched my eyes.

  “Nothing,” I insisted quickly.

  “What did you do?” she drawled and n
arrowed her gaze.

  “Nothing. I mean, it’s just me.” As though that were explanation enough.

  “Is the news bothering you?”

  I hesitated. “Only because it makes me wonder if he knows what he’s getting into.” I opened my phone to look at the three messages he’d sent, telling me we needed to talk and then asking if everything was okay.

  “I think he knows just like the rest of us how much of a lie everything the media shows is.” She pulled out one of the counter stools and hopped up on it. “It’s okay to have doubts… to worry when you like someone that much.”

  “My mind was completely elsewhere when I was training today. Danny was frustrated and said that I should consider secluding myself until the competition is over.” I sighed heavily, turning my phone over so that I wasn’t tempted to respond. “I also… have never felt like this before. I’m sorry,” I added quickly, shaking my head. “I shouldn’t tell you—”

  “Jac,” she interrupted and reached for my hands, grabbing them in hers before continuing, “you’re like a sister to me. I know we haven’t been as close since Evan passed and as much as I love my brother, I always thought you two were great as friends… and not so great as more than that. I’m happy for you. I’m happy that you are finally moving on. Heck, I would be happy for you no matter what happened between the two of you.”

  My head jerked up in shock. She’d never said that before. Maybe because I’d avoided any and all talk of her brother. Or maybe, I admitted guiltily, because I’d avoided her for a long time.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she begged. “Please tell me you don’t think I was that oblivious to the fact you two were starting to become miserable around each other near the end. He was always short and demanding and you, you were way too eager to please back then. Regardless, I wanted you both to be happy—together or apart. And now, I want you to be happy.” She squeezed my fingers. “So, spill. If you like him that much why are you ghosting him?”