Page 80 of Snowbound with the Santas

My rabbit-fast heart finally slows to a more manageable pace, but each beat is still a punch like it’s trying to break free through my ribs.

I swallow hard and wince sharply. My throat is sandpaper dry.

The pressure in my head swells just behind my eyes, right in my temples, so I close my eyes and focus on breathing. The bag crinkles and crumples along with me. Over time, my panting is less and less. I don’t know how long it’s been, but finally, I open my eyes. Everyone is still in the same position. I glance atArcher, and he seems to understand that I no longer need the bag, so he lowers it slowly.

“Rayne?” Nick asks in that soft voice.

Hearing it makes emotion swell in my chest. They won’t talk to me like that once Ashton’s truth comes out. I wet my parched lips. Swallowing is a struggle. All moisture has left my mouth and seems to be leaking out my eyes.

“I…” I croak. The word burns, and I wince.

“Frankie, get her some water,” Nick orders. Frankie, seemingly grateful for some direction, strides into the kitchen.

“Rayne, I think you owe us some answers,” Archer states. His tone is firmer than Nick’s. I look at him and finally see the blood coating the slightly twisted flesh of his knuckles. That must have been one hell of a punch.

“Archer’s right,” Nick says. “Although we don’t have to do this now.”

“If not now, then when?” Archer snaps slightly. “Do we wait until that cunt comes back and starts some other shit? You saw him. That fucker is unhinged. Rayne.” He looks back at me. “We can’t help you if we don’t know exactly what you are running from. Why did you choose to stay here? And I mean the real reason. The more we know, the better we can?—”

“I killed two people.”

Those four words bring a deathly silence to the group, and Archer’s mouth remains open in shock.

I’ve never uttered those words aloud before. They’ve danced around my head for years. Haunted my dreams. Terrorized me, even when I was awake. I see their faces in the mirror. I see the car accident every time I’m driving.

I’ve spent the past six years trapped in Ashton’s twisted games, never able to utter the truth, and now, here in front of the men I’ve come to care about more than I’ve ever cared about anyone, I say it.

And sentence myself to the end.

“I–I’m a murderer. I killed two people.”

30

FRANKIE

“I–I’m a murderer. I killed two people.”

The cup slips a few inches in my hands. My fingertips snag on the rim and become the only thing stopping it from escaping my grasp and falling right to the floor. Rayne’s words don’t sound real, even as she repeats them twice and then falls completely silent.

Neither Nick nor Archer moves. They seem to be processing the revelation.

What are you supposed to say when someone says they’re a murderer?

Is this meant to be a joke? Is she speaking metaphorically? I stand in the doorway with the cup teetering on the edge of my fingertips.

“Rayne,” Archer says, and his voice is deep and serious. “What do you mean, you killed two people?”

Rayne doesn’t reply. She’s staring blankly past Nick at something in the distance. Or nothing. If I took a guess, I’d say the arrival of Ashton, her panic attack, and this confession are all she has the energy for. She now looks completely out of it and doesn’t react when Archer touches her wrist.

“Rayne? This is a… a serious thing to say. We need to know what you mean?”

“I think it was pretty clear,” Nick says tightly. “You wanted to know the truth.”

Archer’s head whips around to Nick. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

“She clearly wasn’treadyto talk about it.”

“What else are we supposed to do? We can’t wait around forever with that fuckerandMountain Security on our ass. We’re working with limited information here.”

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