Page 71 of Snowed Under

I hear him behind me. I know he’s close. But the beauty about being small is I’m also fast.

I turn my head to see where he is, my heart hammering as he lunges for me, tryingto grab my arm. I swing my bag and clonk him in the head as he stumbles back and I keep running.

I head for the stairs that lead up to the mezzanine, where Cole was recently renovating with Travis.

Cole. God. He’s going to be worried soon if he doesn’t hear from me. It hasn’t been that long since I left him, so he’d have no reason to call until he has news on the kitten.

I don’t want to think about what Drake has in mind if he catches me.

“Ainsley!” he calls after me. “Stop running from me, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk!”

“Well then, stop chasing me!” I yell back, reaching the stairs. But I feel his hand on me again as he grabs me by the wrist. I’m shaking with equal parts adrenaline, and fear, as I spin to face him. No one knows I’m here, and Drake is acting like a complete lunatic.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you!” he yells. Which gives me no comfort whatsoever.

“You’re hurting me now!” I hurl back, trying to pull free. Miraculously he lets me go, but I fall forwards and catch myself on the first step before I trip face first. “Look at what you’re doing!”

He runs his hands through his hair and down his face. “I’ve fucked up, Ains. I lost the most beautiful girl I ever had, and I lost my job last week. Your asshole boyfriend broke my nose. My life is in the toilet!”

Yeah, you lost me because you cheated on me because you needed to sow your wild oats.I shudder at the way he shortens my name. It’s just nothing like how Cole says it.

My phone rings again before I even get to reply to his verbiage. Not that there’s anything to even say to his sob story. He’s made his own decisions in life and I’m sick of taking the brunt of it. I’m sick of being made tofeel as though I was the problem.

“I need to answer it, Drake. Cole is waiting for me, he’s going to know soon. He’ll find me.”

“Don’t even mention his name!” he shouts, getting agitated all over again. “He can’t take what’s mine, Ainsley. Now, give me your phone!”

“No!” I shout back, my foot resting on the edge of the next step, trying to back away from him. I’m gearing to push off the steps and run upstairs so I can lock myself in one of the storage rooms. He tries to grab my bag right off my shoulder, but I manage to shrug him off. If he gets hold of that phone, I’m screwed. I’ve no way of contacting anyone or getting any help, other than trying to get upstairs and yelling out of the window. That might not be such a bad idea. “Stop grabbing me!” I bubble out, tears are threatening to spill. I’m so terrified, my mind searching like crazy to find a way out of this nightmare.

“Stop trying to run away,” he grits angrily. I honestly don’t know where his anger toward me is coming from. Jealousy can make people do crazy things, I suppose, but even this isn’t a side to him I’ve never seen. “I just want to talk.”

“I told you we could talk at the cafe, but you didn’t want to. The time for talking isn’t here, Drake. Not after chasing me and dragging me in here!”

He runs his hands over his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re scaring me by doing this. Please let me go and we can talk about this when you’ve calmed down.” Of course, I don’t mean a world of it.

He runs his hands over his face again and lets out a deep sigh. I take that opportunity to turn and push off my foot, resting on the next step and launch myself up thestairs. It doesn’t matter what he says, he’s too up and down at the moment to know what the hell he’s doing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been drinking again. This is so out of character for him. Yes, he was angry at the dance, but it was nothing like this.

“Ainsley!” He bolts up the stairs after me, but I’m taking each step like my life depends on it, not even looking back to see where he is. I swear to God I’m going to have heart failure if this goes on for much longer. My adrenaline is the only thing keeping me from crumbling into a heap.

I’m just at the top when I feel his hands on my bag again and I swing around to push him off.

He loses his footing as he tries to hold on to me before he trips, essentially falling backward down the stairs. I cry out as he starts waving his arms in rapid reverse circles, trying to find his footing. “Ains–oh shit–” I reach out in an attempt to stop him from falling, attempting to grab at his arm, but I can’t reach. He makes a terrified wailing sound as he loses balance and falls down with a loud clatter. He lands awkwardly three or four steps away from where I’m still standing at the top, staring down in horror.

Then, if that isn’t terrifying enough, he keeps on rolling. His body resembles a rag doll falling down the entire staircase. It’s like watching a tumbleweed rolling in the wind and I stand there with tears falling, my face buried in my hands. When I peek out, Drake is laying still at the bottom of the stairs…unmoving.

??

Cole

I’m getting anxious. I haven’t heard from Ainsley yet and an hour has nearly passed.Maybe Chip’s was busier than she anticipated and everyone has rushed out early to get supplies for the weekend. She often has her phone on silent for work, maybe she didn’t switch it over? When Emma calls me to see if Ains is with me, I feel that sense of panic again, like when I couldn’t find Fudge. She hasn’t returned Emma’s calls since Em got to the hospital, or my text ten minutes ago. Em assures me that Valerie is fine. She was just checking when we’d be coming to the hospital.

I’ve tried Ainsley’s cell a few times, to no avail. It just rings out. So I decide to head up to Chip’s myself. I take Fudge with me; he got the all clear. He was just cold and tired, but he’s gonna be fine. The little dude is stable, and Presley is still running some tests and keeping him warm. He’s not out of the woods yet. The nurse said they’ll call me as soon as he can be released. That’s a relief.

I head out on foot, still carrying Fudge in his travel case. Crossing the road just across from the Town Hall, I see poor Frosty is getting covered in more snow than he knows what to do with. I look down at the ground and bend to pick up a large scrunchie. It’s made of the same squishy fabric that looks a lot like the ones Ainsley wears. On closer examination, itisher scrunchie because it has gingerbread men all around it and she had it in her hair this morning.

At the same time that realization is dawning, my phone chimes in my back pocket and I swiftly reach around and pull it out. Ainsley’s name flashes on the screen and I breathe a silent prayer of relief.

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