Page 70 of Snowman

"Lena," I said before she stepped out. "Thank you. For everything. You've done more for me than you had to."

She looked back, her eyes softening. "You're welcome," she said.

Then she was gone.

The house was quiet again. I stared at the closed door, her words in my mind. Lena wasn't a good mother, she never had been. But she'd been the only one who ever tried. And in her way, she was enough.

It was just past noon when we got into the car. I told Bree earlier it was a surprise where I was taking her. She didn't know where I lived, but today, I wanted her to see it. To show her that what was mine could be hers too.

She sank into the seat, leaning back as if trying to get comfortable, her gaze fixed straight ahead. A quiet smile tuggedat her lips, one of those soft ones that seemed to sneak up without her noticing.

"It's weird," she said after a moment, brushing her fingers lightly over her mouth. "Smiling this much. My face feels sore."

I laughed, turning the key. The engine rolled to life, and the car eased away from the farmhouse.

"It looks good on you," I said, looking at her.

She shot me a quick look, her smile twitching wider. My right hand stayed on the wheel, but my left drifted without thought, resting lightly on her thigh. The sun poured through the windshield, washing everything in a golden haze. She tilted her head, the light catching her hair in a way that made it gleam.

She leaned her head onto my shoulder, and I reached for the radio with my free hand, hoping for something calm to fill the silence. Instead, the sharp voice of a reporter stated from it.

"Joining us now is profiler Frida Dahl, who successfully apprehended the Snowman Killer this morning. Frida, can you tell us more about the case?"

Frida's voice came next."A tip early this morning provided crucial evidence, confirming our suspicions about the suspect. With that, we were able to bring him into custody without resistance."

I reached over and twisted the volume down, but not fast enough to stop Bree from catching it. She shifted, lifting her head from my shoulder to look at me.

"What's going on?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "Who's in custody?"

Her voice was steady, but I knew her well enough to hear the undercurrent of worry. I kept my eyes on the road, my grip tightening on the wheel. I wasn't ready to tell her. Not about Isak. Not yet.

"Nothing we need to think about right now," I said, keeping my tone light.

She studied me for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "And where the hell are we going, then?"

"Home," I said simply.

Her shoulders rose in a small huff, but she let it go. Her face softened as she turned back to the window, the tension sliding away. I reached over, brushing her hair back from her neck. My fingers lingered for a moment, and she turned back to me with a smile.

She kissed the back of my hand. "Okay," she said. "You don't have to tell me."

The sunlight caught her hair again as she turned away, making her look almost unreal for a moment. Every second with her felt electric, like my blood was too hot like I was burning up from the inside out. Last night flickered in the back of my mind, her laugh, her touch, the way she'd looked at me like I was the only thing in the world.

The road stretched out endlessly. Twenty minutes of driving felt like hours, but I spotted my house in the distance. It should have brought relief, but it only stoked the fire. I couldn't wait.

I turned the wheel hard, veering onto a side road without thinking twice. The car turned as gravel crunched beneath the tires, and I slammed the brakes, the sudden stop throwingus forward slightly. The road here was quiet, secluded, and forgotten by most, it was perfect.

"What are you doing?" Bree's voice broke the silence.

I didn't answer.

Words felt useless when all I could think about was her. I reached for her face, cupping her cheeks, and brought her lips to mine. The kiss was deep, searching, the taste of her like something I needed to survive. She froze for a second, startled, before melting into me, her arms wrapping around my neck.

"You're crazy," she whispered when we finally broke apart.

"Maybe," I murmured, leaning back and pushing my seat as far as it would go. My heart was pounding, and I grabbed her hand, guiding it to rest against the hardness between my legs.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in a smirk. "What now?"

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