Page 6 of Snowbound with the Santas

“You’re a murderer, Rayne. And I covered for you. Did you forget to show some fucking gratitude?”

Ashton’s words cut through me like an ice-cold razor blade. Every single day for the past six years, I have done everything I can to forget about that terrible night, to distance myself from a past I can’t change, and take steps to make my future as good as possible. I donate to charity, volunteer, and pour my hours into teaching to give back and try to make up for what I did.

Because deep down, underneath the guilt and the shame, I know I’m not at fault for that night. Not completely.

My stomach tightens in waves and a sharp cramp spears through my gut. I’d double over from the surprise pain if Ashton didn’t have me pinned in place.

“Fuck you,” I spit out, shoving back against him. His clammy fingers brush against my bare thigh, and my heart lurches. “I’m not a murderer. Those areyourvictims. None of that would ever have happened if you hadn’t forced me to?—”

“Still preaching that lie, huh?” Ashton hums in my ear. “Are you hoping that if you repeat it enough, it will become the truth?Like you can manipulate reality and change what happened that day?”

“The biggest mistake I made that day was trusting you.” Gripping the shelves, I shove backward into Ashton, and he overbalances, taken by surprise. Spinning around, I face him and grit my teeth to try and keep the fear at bay.

He hasn’t changed. And when I tell everyone that he’s here, when I tell Phoebe what kind of monster she’s set to marry, maybe I’ll finally get to see him face some consequences.

“Rayne, you can’t escape the truth. You can’t escape me.”

“No!” I surge forward, fueled by fear but trying to channel it into my anger. “You ruined me, and I won’t let you do it again. You don’t own me, and I know you won’t go out there and suddenly change your story because then you’ll have to explain to everyone why you lied. Why you pretended. And you can’t do that because then you will be in just as much trouble as me, if not more.”

“Not if I tell them I was scared of you.” Ashton laughs suddenly, and it’s a cold, humorless sound. “Didn’t you think I’d consider that? I have plans and backup plans, Rayne, just in case you ever grew a conscience and tried to tell the truth.”

“I did tell the truth!” I almost dare him to reveal the truth. What a relief that would be to my past demons.

“Did you? You were pretty happy to sit back and let me take the fall.”

“Because I wastraumatized?—”

“No,” Ashton interrupts. “It’s because you knew I’d take care of you. Because I always take care of what’s mine.”

He steps forward and cups my cheek. Suddenly, I’m twenty years old again, staring up at him in the pouring rain as he tells me he will take care of me. Back then, at that moment, it was the only thing I heard. The only thing that mattered.

He tricked me, locked invisible manacles around my wrists, and from that point on, I was trapped with him until he grew bored of me.

“Remember?” Ashton says softly. “Youoweme.”

The second he leans in, I react on pure instinct. My knee flies upward again and I shove both hands hard into his chest. As my knee collides with the softness of his crotch, Ashton doubles over with a grunt, and it’s much easier to shove him away with a yell.

“I don’t owe you shit!”

I scramble over Ashton as he sinks to the ground with a whimper and stumble out of the storage closet. The bright lights of the party are blinding after time spent in the darkness, so I screw up my eyes and step forward.

“Ma’am?” A hand brushes my shoulder, and I wrench sideways, half expecting Ashton to already be beside me, but when I open my eyes, the kindly gaze of a staffer stares down at me. “Are you alright?”

I must look a sight. My skeleton feels like it’s trying to flee and leave my body behind. My heart has been racing for so long that an ache has grown in my chest, and my clammy skin flushes hotter under the staffer’s gaze.

And my cheek still throbs from Ashton’s slap.

“Yes,” I gasp, glancing over my shoulder. The door to the closet remains closed. “Y–Yes, I’m fine. I’m just…”

I can’t think, and an excuse fails me. Behind the staffer, countless people with more money than thought mill around the dancefloor. Men in exquisite, expensive suits dance with women in glamorous ballgowns and dresses. Soft Christmas music fills the air, and the entire ballroom is decorated with streams of tinsel, glittering decorations, and sparkling lights. Each of the room’s four corners houses a gigantic Christmas tree, each a different color.

For a moment, the sheer glitz of the room is numbing after my encounter with Ashton and once again, I feel trapped between two lives. The life my mother wants and has likely painted about me to her friends, and the life I lived secretly with Ashton. My rebellious years that led to an alcohol addiction and a terrifying night that trapped me with my abuser.

I want to run.

I want to get out of here and drive all the way back to the airport, get as far away from Ashton as I can.

Run until I can’t run anymore.

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