Page 18 of Snowman

Without another word, he tapped the gas, and we began to roll forward down the street. The crunch of the tires on the snowy ground occupied the space between us, without being uncomfortable. For possibly the first time in the last few hours, breathing was easy.

Those ten minutes were the shortest in my life as we pulled up to the house. With every rotation of the tires, it sounded like a drum echoing in my chest, my heart matching the rhythm. As it finally came to a stop, I reached for the door handle, but my eyes didn't leave the screen of the windshield. My body froze, refusing to move. The house sat there before me, a dark shape among the snow, but the real shadow seemed to wait inside.

"We can sit here for a while if you want," Thor said in a soft voice that held calm. "No rush."

I nodded, one tear welling its way down my cheek. It was hot against the cold numbness of my skin.

The silence between us drew out, until he spoke again, softly breaking it. "You fall a lot too?" His eyes flickered to my wrists, the question hovering in the air between us like a fragile thread.

I twisted toward him, now caught under the weight of his question. In my silence, he saw more than most people grasp in a lifetime, a thought of it sent jolts of fear through my spine. My lump was growing low in my throat and swelled now in pain as I shook my head.

I'd never fallen. Not like that. I'd hurt myself only in quiet, cowardly ways that felt somehow like control. Dying had been an escape I wished for when the weight became too much to handle.When I came back, when I saw what it did to Mel, I told myself I would never again be so selfish. Mel had tried, too. And I could never let her do the same to herself.

Thor reached into his coat and pulled out a small scrap of paper. He held it out to me, his hand steady.

"Here," he said. "My number. If you ever... Fall... You can call for help. Asking for help is okay, Bree."

I stared at the paper a moment before reaching out for it, my fingers brushing against his. "Okay," I whispered, folding it carefully and tucking it into my pocket.

I let my gaze dwell on him a moment longer, then reached to open the door.His eyes are chestnut,I said to myself. Brown.Not blue, brown.

And then I said them over and over in my mind, as though trying to burn them into my memory. But beneath that, I was still looking for someone else. For the man who had come into my room last night. The man who had made the snowman. The man who knew now that I had seen something I was never supposed to see.

And suddenly, fear wrapped its icy tendrils around me. A deeper fear than I'd ever known. Because now, I was more afraid than ever to talk, to breathe, to even exist.

It was Thor's voice that brought me back. "Are you sure you told me everything?" The firm tone was soft and his eyes searched mine.

I nodded, forcing a faint smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Yeah."

He nodded back, but his face told another story. I stepped out of the car and shut the door behind me. He remained inside, observing me as I walked to the house. I did not look back; could not. My legs were lead, heavy with a weight that seemed to tug me closer with each step to something I was not prepared to face.

Through the window, I could see Dad. His face was hard, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with anger that seemed to radiate even from a distance. My stomach twisted into knots. I wasn't ready for him either.

I stopped in front of the door, my hand shaking, clutched on the handle.

Thirty seconds passed, I counted each and every one with the heavy beating of my heart in my ears. Then I finally pushed the door open and stepped inside. The sound of the car pulling away behind me reached my ears just as I shut the door.

I wanted to call Thor. I wanted to scream out through the phone for him to save me right now.How could he?How was I allowed to be saved when all this time, I did not even believe I was worthy of saving? How could I get help from a person who wants to fight for me when I no longer have hope left in me?My hope was already dying, bit by bit.

Inside, the house was suffocating. Mom was in the kitchen, going through her motions as though she didn't even see me, Mel was in her room quiet and still like she hadn't moved today. And Dad?! Dad was just waiting. His gaze had snapped onto mine like a lock disengaging the instant I crossed over the threshold.

"What were you doing with that cop?" He spat the words like droplets of venom.

I shook my head fast, my back against the door. "I didn't…"

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" he roared, his voice cracking through the air like a whip. Another step closer, and he was towering over me. "You told him something, didn't you?"

"I didn't, I swear!" I stammered, my voice rising in desperation. My hands pressed against the door behind me, searching for a way to push myself further away. "I didn't tell him anything!"

His face twisted in anger as he leaned in. My body was shaking so much I could hardly stand.

"Don't lie to me," he hissed, his hand twitching at his side. I froze, my breath caught in my throat. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

"You won't fucking leave this house again," he growled as his hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my hair. Pain exploded across my scalp as he pulled me down, the sharp pull making my head move violently. I clenched my teeth, biting back a scream, but the tears welled in my eyes.

"You will learn," he thundered, dragging me across the room, never letting go, not even once.

My feet stumbled after his as he pulled me up the stairs. Each rise upwards felt like a shock of hurt across my body, but I did not fight back. It was only worse if I resisted.

---