Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale Book 3)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “Dinah…” My name growled over the gusty wind, swooping up the back of my neck, icing my skin. My breath hitched, my frame swung around, and my keys were ready to stab the predator. The parking lot was empty of people and had only a few cars. A streetlamp glowed eerily, casting a putrid glow. My eyes shifted around, trying to register any movement.

  “Di-nah…” This time the voice was so deep it vibrated against my soul, running up my body like fingers, making me gasp. My heart thudded in my chest, my hands shaking.

  Earlier it had also been a man’s voice calling me, but this one was different.

  Darker. Deadlier.

  It promised my demise in two syllables.

  Swiftly, I unlocked my car, sliding in and locking the doors. My pulse throbbed in my ears as I checked my back seat, touching the mace I kept in my cupholder. Dad taught Alice and me how to shoot a gun and had put us in a self-defense class when we hit puberty. As a professor at a university, he saw things happen at frat parties and heard things about girls walking across campus at night. He wanted Alice and me prepared to defend ourselves.

  As I pulled out of the lot, my nerves still jumping, I thought I saw something in my peripheral, but when I looked again, nothing was there. I couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching me.

  I hit the gas, tearing down the road, heading for the tree lot. I felt with all Dad prepared us for, he didn’t teach us how to defend ourselves when our own minds turned against us.

  Chapter 2

  The delicious smells of sugar cookies, hot chocolate, cider, and cinnamon wrapped around me like the softest blanket, letting me forget all about the earlier events. My shoulders eased as I hummed to the Christmas music playing softly in the background while I finished hanging candy canes on the tree. The idyllic, little wooden cottage was attached to a tree farm on the outskirts of New Britain, Connecticut. It was owned by a sexist old man who had his five adult sons running it.

  “I didn’t expect so many tonight.” Gabe yanked down his fake beard, popping a joint in his mouth. The dozens of kids wanting to see Santa kept Gabe and me busy for the first four hours. “I need a smoke bad.” It was getting late, and fewer families were venturing over to the workshop, tucking their kids in for the night instead. The holiday season had officially kicked off with a bang.

  Christmas spirit seemed higher in the last two years than normal, bringing in far more people to get trees and see Santa this early. Except for me, it seemed. I had lost most of my cheer.

  “If you get caught…” I flicked my chin at him. “Shortest manager job in history.” I didn’t understand his constant need to get high. To be fuzzy all the time. I liked being clearheaded and present.

  Gabe snorted, but turned, going out the back door to light up. A gust of cold air swept in as he stepped out, instantly pimpling my flesh. Not that I was wearing much. The owner was in his seventies and acted as though women were merely here to be pretty. He clearly had some slutty elf fantasy by the look of our outfits. All the elves he hired were girls, and he had us in exceptionally low-cut, short costumes with red-and-white stockings, green shoes with bells, and a green elf hat.

  The number of fathers who brought their kids here multiple times was disturbing. Though Alice had only worked here for one season, dads still came in and asked about her. My sister was stunning—stop-in-the-street beautiful—with the right amount of curves, long, silky, straight, dark hair, dark eyes, and tall. If she and Matt ever had kids, they would be voted the most beautiful babies in the world. It wasn’t until Alice opened her mouth you met the real her. She was blunt, real, witty, and sarcastic. It made me love her more.

  Most said we looked alike, but our personalities were total opposites. I was the pros-and-cons girl, while Alice leaped into something with her heart. I would write lists, and Alice would already be out doing it. Even if it failed and she fell on her face, she’d jump back up and try again. I was controlled, guarded, and cautious.

  I never envied her until lately. Alice’s life was completely together, while I felt mine was crumbling at the seams. Everything I worked and planned for felt empty and wrong now that I had them. Scott and I worked all the time to be able to afford an apartment in Hartford and a car. We wanted to ensure we could pay the bills, have a cushion in our bank account for an emergency, and save for our future house. We were responsible and determined.

  And now we did have an apartment in Hartford, a car, food, money to go out on the weekends, we were going to university…everything I said I wanted. So why did I feel I was living someone else’s life?

  A tingling feeling skated down my neck, and I twisted my head around the room, picking up on the utter silence. The music in the cottage was set on repeat, and by the end of the season, you were ready to take a bat to it, but now nothing came from the speakers.

  Setting down the box of decorations, I headed for the small employee area, my feet halting at the window. The brightly lit tree lot, usually blinding to look at, was in complete darkness. Like they had closed up and gone home, but I knew they never turned the lights fully off. A few of the brothers had trailers and stayed the season at the lot, next to the father’s house. The tree lot was always lit.

  As I looked out, everything was black. Did the electricity go out? Fuse box? The lights were still on in the cottage, though.

  Peculiar.

  I opened the back door, peering out into the cold, dark night. “Gabe? Do you know—” I stopped, noticing he was not in his usual spot. “Gabe?”

  A prickle of warning rushed over my shoulders and up my throat, singing with alarm.

  “There’s a perfectly good explanation,” I muttered to myself, listing the reasons. Making lists always calmed me down. The fuse box was probably overloaded and went out over on the lot, and Gabe went over to help them.

  It sounded like a good enough explanation, except the cottage still had electricity, and I knew from experience they were on the same lines. Also, Gabe would never willingly help out if he didn’t have to. He did as little as possible, and he wasn’t a big fan of the brothers.

  The silence from the huge lot wrapped another layer of apprehension around my throat.

  “Gabe?” I stepped out, my shoes jingling, the wind brushing up my neck and through my hair, a shiver rushing down my spine, though I didn’t feel cold. I was one of those who didn’t mind cold weather. I tended to run hot and loved going for a jog on icy mornings, the air snapping in my lungs, making me feel alive. “Hey, boss man, where did you go?”

  Moving around the cottage, I peered around, noticing the parking lot was mostly empty. A fog had slithered in, drifting close to the ground in the woods right behind the lot. Spikes of fear shot through my body, and I darted toward the house to find help. The two youngest boys and the father were always here.

  “Hello?” I called out, but not one voice or any movement came from the place. Alarm swarmed in my stomach like bees. The deep instinct to run tapped at my legs, but I shushed it. There’s a logical reason. My mom always said I was like the Nancy Drew character; I would not stop until the problem was solved.

  “Come to me, Dinah.” A howl of wind sounding like a woman stopped me dead in my tracks. My entire body flushed with terror. My head snapped around, searching for the voice, my heart thumping in my chest.

  It was just the wind and your imagination. You’re still spooked from earlier. I tried to reassure myself as I fought the growing desire to beeline it back to the cottage. Taking in a strong breath, rolling back my shoulders, I directed myself toward the house.

  “Dinah.” A woman’s voice sent shivers up my spine, and I spun with a yelp. I frantically scanned the area, not finding anything.

  Something moved in the forest, a dark silhouette, but I could feel its eyes on me. A peculiar sensation twitched my limbs, as if I needed to follow it. My feet stepped forward as though I were in a trance. What the hell are you doing, Dinah? Run! A voice clipped in the back of my head. Switching my logical brain back on, I turn
ed to run.

  “No!” The voice felt like strands of air wrapping around my ankles and wrists similar to spiderwebs, not letting me escape. “It’s time.”

  There was no way; it wasn’t possible. But the more I struggled, the less I could move.

  “Come to me, Dinah.” The voice claimed my name, my fight to escape falling away as if it had no choice but to follow the command.

  A cry of terror ripped up my throat, my head spinning out all my logic, acting purely on instinct. Son of a nutcracker… I had to be dreaming. Wake up, Dinah!

  I pinched my arm, willing myself to wake up, and a shot of pain raked up my nerves. The winter chill penetrated my skimpy outfit, and my eyes were wide open. This was no dream. Fright plunged deep into my bones, but I didn’t let myself contemplate anything when I felt my binds release. I bolted forward, scrambling to get away. I peered behind me, imagining the serial killer right there, and did not pay attention to what was in front of me.

  Whack!

  Pain shot up from my shin, and my body tumbled over a stack of wood the brothers kept out here, selling the prepared bundles in the gift store. A small cry broke from my lips as I hit the ground, my head cracking against a log.

  I knew there had to be pain, but the world blurred around me, and I didn’t feel anything as I descended into darkness.

  “Dinah.” My lids fluttered at the sound of a man’s voice. It was warm and lazy, like sunshine on a calm sea. “Wake up.”

  My lashes lifted, my breath sucking in as I took in the handsome stranger crouching over me. Even from this angle, I could tell he was tall. The man was breathtaking, model-level hot. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and had short wavy blond hair and a chiseled jaw. Eyes the color of the ocean complemented his tan skin.

  “You’ve grown up.” His mouth parted in a blinding grin, causing something in my stomach to flutter with familiarity. “It’s been a long time.”

  My mouth parted, no words coming out as I tried to sit up. My eyes drifted around; everything outside of us was dark and hazy. “Where am I?” I tried to make out anything familiar—the tree lot, the cottage.

  “Where you are is nothing compared to who you are.” His hand reached up, touching my cheek, sending a rush of heat through me. “Are you still Dinah?”

  “Still Dinah?” My lids narrowed, jerking back from his touch. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

  “Now that is a question.” He lifted an eyebrow, a grin hitching up the side of his mouth.

  I waited for him to go on, but he only smiled wider, his eyes rolling over me. “I never thought you’d return.”

  “Return?” Irritation and fear started to slither down my back. Nothing made sense. “Return where? Where are we? Who are you?”

  “Di-nah.” In the distance, I could hear my name, like a howl of wind, deep and haunting, tugging at me to turn around, to follow it as though it were my anchor in the dark.

  “Dinah.” The man in front of me clutched my face, turning me back to him, his clear green-blue eyes searching deep into mine. “You need to remember.” His thumb passed over my bottom lip, hitching my breath as heat flooded my veins, pulsing down to my thighs. “Don’t deny what you already know to be true because you think you should no longer believe.”

  “Little one.” The deep voice clawed at my chest, my head automatically snapping back to it.

  “Don’t trust him, Dinah.” Blondie pulled my chin back to him, his eyes full of panic and worry. “Please. He’s not to be trusted. He wants to hurt you.”

  “Who? Who’s not to be trusted?” The sound of my name grew closer, my nerves twisting with anxiety. “Who the hell are you?”

  A smile curved his mouth, his eyes glinting with mischievousness. “I forgot how spirited you are. Glad you haven’t lost that.”

  “Dinah?” A familiar man’s voice cried out, sounding close, snapping my head around in search. “What the hell? Wake up!”

  Mr. Ocean’s eyes held on to my face. “Don’t forget me this time, and don’t block me anymore.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve missed you so much. You have grown into a stunning woman.” He gripped my chin and leaned in, his mouth brushing mine. Warmth and desire flooded my body, my eyes automatically shutting, not able to deny the sensations engulfing my body, tumbling me into the darkness.

  “Dinah?” I felt a hand shoving my shoulder, something tapping my face. “Wake up!”

  Blinking, my eyes opened to Gabe hunched over, the Santa beard tucked under his chin, his breath billowing in the freezing night air. The bright tree lot shone behind him. Christmas lights, music, and voices battered my senses.

  “Jeez, are you trying to get hypothermia?” Gabe grabbed my arm, helping me up. The chill from the icy ground seeped into my tiny elf costume, but I didn’t feel really cold, though it was well below thirty degrees. “Why the hell are you bleeding?” I glanced down at my torn tights. Blood oozed out of a cut on my shin; throbbing pain pulsed around it. “Did you trip over the woodpile?”

  “I-I guess.” I used his arm as he brought me to my feet. My head spun with thick cobwebs of images and feelings.

  “I leave you for a fuckin’ minute, and you decide to go running around in the dark without a jacket?” Gabe grumbled, stepping back. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded automatically. Was I? Was I okay?

  “Why were you out here? It’s freezing.”

  My bones shook, but it wasn’t from the weather. I felt numb to everything, except for the lingering sensation of lips on mine, a hand touching my face.

  “I came out to look for you, but you were gone. The lights…they were all off.” I motioned to the lot, which was engulfed in light.

  Gabe’s brows furrowed. “You didn’t come looking for me. I was standing right next to the back door, and the lights have been on the whole time.” He shook his head. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You getting sick or something?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you head home? You’re bleeding, and it’s dead now. I’ll close.” He stepped with me, heading back for the cottage. “Jesus, I’m having flashbacks to your sister.”

  “What?” I whirled to him, his back to me as he trudged back to the cabin. “What do you mean?”

  He paused, glancing back. “Your sister, the night two years ago when she got really sick. She said the same stuff to me…that lights were off and she couldn’t find me. Weird fuckin’ shit she was muttering about: Scrooge, Frosty, and a red queen.” He laughed. “And here I was the one out back getting high, but her mind was a fuckin’ trip.” He chuckled again, stepping back into the cottage.

  My stomach pitched. I remembered that day. Gabe had called to tell me she was ill and acting strangely. Tension strangled my throat, my gut twisting, remembering clearly…

  That was the day everything had changed.

  When Alice went mad.

  Chapter 3

  Four blocks away from my apartment, I finally found parking, my bruised leg causing me to step slowly to the four-story brick box Scott and I called home. The West Hartford neighborhood was okay with lots of bars and cafes near, but our apartment building probably hadn’t been updated since the late eighties. My dad was set on West Hartford for us because it was safer than other areas, but to afford it meant picking a place not as nice.

  Cold air puffed from my lips as I strolled up the sidewalk, the Friday night buzz from the bar down the street ringing in the cold night. Looking forward to having a glass of wine and going to bed, I knew I was abnormal for an almost twenty-year-old. Most would be trying out their fake IDs, flirting with the doorman, dancing, drinking, and probably going home with a stranger.

  Scott and I were already so settled in our life. We started dating at fifteen, which rendered all those experiences not applicable. I had never even kissed another boy besides Scott.

  My brain shot back to the image of a man’s mouth pressing into mine, instantly spiking heat up my leg
s and into my cheeks.

  Your imagination doesn’t count, Dinah. Stop being stupid. I shook my head at myself. I stepped up the front stoop, our window from the fourth floor glowing warmly.

  I already knew Scott would be on the sofa playing video games, his way of unwinding after a long week, though you’d never know he had a bad day. He was always happy and light. Nothing ever bothered him, which I sometimes found irritating.

  “Dinah….” Reaching for my keys, I felt a burst of air brush down the back of my neck, sliding around, slipping between my breasts like breath, sending shivers down my limbs. My skin tingled, not from the coldness but with awareness. A tapping at the back of my neck turned my head around.

  The street was quiet, lined with empty cars, not a person on the street. I swallowed, but the feeling of eyes burrowing through my winter jacket skated over my skin.

  Adrenaline hummed in my ears, my attention back on the door. I unlocked it, wanting to rush to get to safety. I ran inside, jogging up the four flights, not stopping until I burst through our apartment door, my breathing heavy. I bolted every lock before falling against it.

  “Hey, babe,” Scott called from the sofa without even looking up, his fingers moving knobs as zombies died on the screen. “You’re home early.”

  The only expensive thing we had in the place was the flat-screen TV and the latest PlayStation. Everything else had been given to us or bought used. The dated apartment still had the original beige rug throughout the small one-bedroom, which was stained and faded. Laminate floors in the kitchen and bathroom were peeling and cracked. The cupboards were made of cheap pine wood, all the old appliances were white, and the faucets took centuries to get hot water. It was the type of place no matter how much you cleaned, it still looked and felt dirty. But it was home.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, pushing off the door. I kicked off my shoes, cringing at my torn bloody tights, trying to keep my voice normal. “It got slow.”