Snow

by Asha King

  “I thought I’d find your body out there, after he took you,” he whispered against her lips. “I thought you were dead. Jesus. Liliana.” Her name, again, was whispered with a sort of reverence.

  She was crying and she didn’t know why, couldn’t explain why the tears were suddenly falling, and thankfully he didn’t question it. He kissed her cheeks until the tears fell away, murmured words she couldn’t decipher yet somehow understood against her throat. His coldness from earlier was forgotten, her hurt feelings seeming like the distant past. She’d thought she was dead too, was certain she wasn’t making it away from the Huntsman alive, and there was nothing more she wanted to do with her appreciation for life than to feel O’Hara in her arms again.

  Still, she remembered his words, remembered his distance, and she pulled back to search his eyes. “What are you doing?”

  His hand moved over her, along her side, her hip, around to her front to cup her mound. Even though her jeans, her body yearned for him, bucking against his fingers.

  There was no recklessness in his expression, nothing to suggest he didn’t know what he was doing—every touch was deliberate, nothing he would regret. “I want to watch you come again.”

  She gasped at his words and then again as he unzipped her jeans, his hand delving inside, past her panties. She was slick and ready for him and he knew just how to touch her. Fingers whirled around her clit, slid down to sink past her labia, her juices coating her and making her slippery, ready. Two fingers sank into her channel, rubbing and massaging her.

  She latched onto his shoulders, held tight as he braced her against the wall, his knee wedged between hers. When her mouth hit his, he kissed her back, but kept his eyes on her, watching her while he pumped his fingers in and out of her. His thumb swirled over her clit and she cried out.

  She couldn’t get his shirt off fast enough, fumbling at the buttons and tearing it until it parted and she could feel his broad, strong shoulders. He worked her T-shirt up with one hand while the other continued to move between her legs. Kisses peppered down her throat, across her collarbone, her breasts. One nipple was sucked firmly in his mouth, shooting sparks of pleasant heat through her. It had only been hours since their last encounter but her body was starved for more, unable to get enough of him.

  “I want you inside me,” she whispered.

  He released her breast, grasped her thighs. Lifted her, pinned her against the wall. He worked her jeans down, then her panties, leaving them in a heap below, and her legs automatically wrapped around his hips. She pushed the remnants of his shirt off his shoulders while he worked down the zipper of his own pants.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest, sweat slicking their skin as they rubbed against one another. His cock waited there at her entrance—just the slightest thrust would push him inside her.

  She braced for him to back off, to change his mind, as much as she didn’t want him to. She wanted to fuck him, to lose herself again with him inside her.

  “I thought you didn’t fuck women you don’t care about,” she whispered.

  O’Hara’s dark eyes met hers. “I’m not.”

  And he thrust into her, driving a moan from them both. The broad tip of his cock pushed deep, splitting her, and she gasped at the welcome feel of it. Her arms locked around his neck, his hands took a bruising grip on her hips, positioned her so he could drive deep. Her back slammed against the wall with each pump into her.

  “You didn’t even hesitate,” she whispered. “Didn’t negotiate.”

  “You’re worth everything,” rasped against her ear, kissing her throat as he fucked her. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

  His arms wrapped around her back, pulled her from the wall. Just a few shuffled steps and then her back hit the bed, mattress bouncing beneath their combined weight and springs squeaking. She reveled in the divine feel of him again, his firm smooth shaft moving in her, filling her.

  “The last few days would’ve been so much more enjoyable if we’d just been doing this.” She arched and moaned as he held her hips and pushed in deep again.

  “You have no idea how much I wanted to.” He mouthed the valley between her breasts, her nipples rising to hard, hungry peaks. “No idea. Liliana.”

  “Show me.”

  They rolled, him on his back, and his splayed fingers gripped her ass, squeezed her cheeks as she bounced on his cock. He half-guided her, half-yielded to her, their bodies finding a rhythm unique to them. No cuffs this time as she rode him, he could reach between them and rub her clit, sending her bucking and crying out with each movement. She felt orgasm approaching again, barreling down on her, and her nails bit into his chest as she clawed. Closer and closer then climax exploded and she screamed, pleasure radiating everywhere.

  His grip on her became more bruising, fucking her hard as she began to slump forward. Just as she came down from her orgasm, her pussy squeezing and clenching him, he roared out his own and held her there, impaled on him, as he pumped his seed into her.

  Liliana fell into his warm, welcoming arms, their bodies locked together. They lay tangled on the bed, sweat-soaked and panting. He ran his fingers through her hair gently, soothingly.

  If she could stay like this forever, the assassin could return right now, kill them both, and she wouldn’t notice.

  “How much longer until your friend gets here?” she asked softly.

  “If the roads held, he’s probably near the lodge parking area now. It’s an hour or so on foot.”

  Dusk would be falling soon, then. Harder to see outside. More difficult to find her way through there.

  “We know where Jimmy is, or where he’ll be looking for me,” she said carefully. “Near Gina’s.”

  “No.”

  “You don’t know what I was going to—”

  “No, you’re not going to be bait. There’s no point. You draw them out and what? Get them arrested?”

  “For attempted murder of me, yes. They hired a hitman.”

  “Which we have no proof of. The Huntsman is gone. We have no evidence.”

  So they keep running, keep hiding her, keep hoping the police eventually succeeded where thus far they’d failed.

  Or she could take matters into her own hands. Finally stop running and get proactive.

  It was a monumentally stupid idea but she was tired. Tired of people dying for her sake, tired of the weeks of hiding and waiting for the sword of Damocles over her head to fall. And that sword now felt like it had shifted to O’Hara’s head. Jimmy was pissed. Regardless of where their relationship stood, in Jimmy’s head Liliana and O’Hara were involved, and there’d be no convincing him otherwise.

  Away from her was about the safest place for O’Hara now. Besides, he’d just given up his entire life savings for her life. She’d started to suspect he’d give up a lot more.

  She rolled onto O’Hara, straddling him, kissing his throat and chest. His cock was soft beneath her and she slid up and down, smearing the remnants of their love-making into his skin. He grinned—a wide, open smile, the first she’d seen from him in the days they’d been together, and it made her smile in return. He tipped his head back, ran his hands up and down her arms. She crept down, kissed his abs, his hip. Reached her arm over the end of the bed to where the handcuffs waited.

  The metal rang and his head tilted up again. “I thought you were sick of those.”

  “Oh, I am.” Her heart beat hard, brain telling her this was stupid and she’d never get away with it. Still she had to try and gave him a teasing grin, straddling his hips and leaning her naked chest over his. Her hand grasped his, pushed his wrist over his head, and snapped one handcuff on him, the other on a brass bar of the bed’s headboard.

  Please forgive me for this.

  She pressed a long, passionate kiss to his lips, then backed off in a hurry, skipping across the hardwood out of his grip.

  Mike tensed all over, his eyes narrowing. “Liliana.”

  “I’m sorry.”
<
br />   He sat up, jerked on the handcuff. “Liliana!”

  “I have to.” She stumbled about, getting her clothes back on—socks, shoes, jeans, both shirts, the nylon winter coat the Huntsman had brought her. She had the hat, too, and the mittens. Stuffed Mike’s phone in one pocket and the gun in the other.

  O’Hara’s face was bright red by this point, muscles straining as he pulled on the bar. “Liliana, don’t. They’ll kill you.”

  “They’re going to kill you. Jimmy has a picture of us from the motel last night. He’s pissed and he wants to hurt you.”

  “Jimmy’s a two-bit criminal who doesn’t stand a fucking chance.”

  She shook her head—that overconfidence would get him killed with a snake like Jimmy. “Look, I’m not being stupid. I meet them, they kidnap me, I record the conversation on your phone. Save it to the cloud. More evidence for the police. There’s no point in killing me then—he can’t delete that.”

  “He’ll be pissed and kill you anyway.”

  “And if he tries, I have a gun. I know how Jimmy operates, I know how to navigate his temper.”

  “Then let me go with you.”

  She paused by the door and stared back at him, bound to the bed and still pulling on the bar, her heart hurting. “You won’t go with me, you’ll stop me.”

  “Jesus Christ—”

  “Jimmy knows me. I know him. I can play him. His mom’s not here—I’ve got a chance.”

  “Goddamn it—”

  “Your friend will be here within the hour, he’ll unlock the cuffs, and the two of you will head to town and find me. This just gives me a head start. Bye, Mike.”

  She slammed the shut the door, his voice echoing behind her. And even when the cabin was out of sight, long behind her, she swore she heard him still.

  Chapter Fourteen

  O’Hara’s phone had about ten percent of the battery left. Luckily, she still had the one she’d bought, and popped that in instead. She found a map he’d saved of the area and where the lodge and parking lot was. Odds were she’d cross paths with his friend if she didn’t hurry up, and didn’t plan a different path. Assuming he’d take the main one to the cabin, she cut through the trees and hiked the long way around.

  The sky had gone a deep, bruised purple but at least remained clear—no more snow fell. Her legs were cold and snow was melting into her shoes, but at least her hands, head, and torso remained warm. The gun was heavy in her pocket and hopefully not obvious. Jimmy wouldn’t go so far as to frisk her, she didn’t think—she’d never carried a weapon before, he’d have no reason to.

  The couple of bucks she had left after buying her bus ticket days ago remained in her jeans’ pocket. As she neared the lodge, she pulled out O’Hara’s cell phone again to do a search for taxis in Midsummer. There was exactly one and thankfully they knew the address when she described the place so she didn’t have to hunt one down.

  By the time she reached the parking lot, she found one parked SUV that looked a lot like the one O’Hara had driven earlier and the yellow cab from Midsummer waiting.

  Only when she climbed in the back of the vehicle where the heater blared warm air at her did she realize how cold she’d been. The heat stung her exposed cheeks immediately and her body started to thaw.

  “I have...” She pulled the cash from her pocket. “Twenty-three bucks left. Is that enough to get me to Gina’s bakery in town?”

  The driver, a young guy with a dark knit hat pulled low and a long nose that sniffled like he had a cold, nodded. “Sure will.”

  Dusk rolled into night as the taxi drove her down narrow country roads and past farms until a small town appeared in the distance. A sign proclaimed “Welcome to Midsummer” in curly blue letters and then they were in the hamlet’s downtown core. Main Street barely held two-lane traffic and town seemed to be closing up for the evening, few cars on the snowy streets and many of the shop signs turned to show business hours were done.

  The taxi parked in front of a small brick building that sat on its own, one story with a big sign atop. GINA’S. Blinds were drawn and the door said “Closed.”

  “Pity they’re not open tonight,” the driver said as Liliana pulled out her money. “She makes the best cakes in town.”

  She smiled politely. “I’ve had the pastries before. They’re good. Thank you.”

  He accepted the money and eyed the emptying street as she opened the door. “You sure you’ll be okay? Everything’s closing.”

  Small town. Lots of concern. She’d been living the city so long, she forgot what these folks were like. “I’m expecting someone. It’s fine, thanks.”

  It didn’t feel fine, but Liliana wasn’t going to tell a stranger that. She climbed from the vehicle, slammed the door shut behind her, and surveyed the street as the taxi sped off again. No sign of anyone watching the place. Not like Jimmy would’ve put a big, Here I am! notice on the wall or something, but it would help. Otherwise O’Hara and his friend would show up and drag her off again.

  She walked around the shop, found an old picnic table by the porch and an empty lot beyond it. Brushed the snow off the bench, sat down. Waited. Darkness continued its descent until just the streetlamps lit the empty parking lot and the streets beyond the shop where silent.

  She pulled out Mike’s phone and looked it over. No attempted calls. Had his friend, Kristof, reached the place yet? Found him? Were they on their way?

  Liliana shivered in the growing dark, stuffing the phone back in her pocket. Closed her eyes, zoned out a little while focusing on the steady beat of her heart, the rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

  Steps crunched on the snow to her right.

  Fear crept up her spine, little prickles sending goose bumps rising. Still she didn’t move, didn’t run. Just waited. Waited as the steps came closer.

  “Miss me already?” came Jimmy’s voice, that annoying cocky sound she’d grown to hate so much.

  Liliana opened her eyes and glanced up at him. “Got bored.”

  He leaned his hip on the picnic tabletop next to her. Dark hair cut lazily over his eyes as he gazed down at her. His smile said, “Hey baby, let’s have some fun.” But darkness flashed in his gaze, the cold calculating look that was never hidden too far below the surface.

  “Jimmy, I—”

  He shushed her and gestured over his shoulder, where his two door sports car waited under an orange streetlamp.

  Get in the car with him. Right. What the hell am I doing?

  You’re trying to outsmart him. Get your head on straight.

  “I’d rather sit and talk out here, if you don’t mind.”

  “Actually, I do.” His smile faded. “I don’t much care for your new boyfriend, Lil.”

  “Oh, I ditched him a while back. He was slowing me down.”

  “Still. You want to talk, hop in.” His voice made it clear it wasn’t a request. “C’mon, you must be cold out here.” Jimmy leaned closer. “I’ll get you warm again, baby.”

  Liliana’s stomach turned like she might throw up but she faked a smile, nodded, and rose to follow him toward his car. While behind him, she pulled out the cell phone and thumbed to the recording app, hoped like hell it picked up the ensuing conversation, and that she didn’t die horribly in the process.

  After one final glance around at Midsummer’s darkened downtown, Liliana climbed into the passenger seat of Jimmy’s car and silently prayed she’d make it out of this alive.

  ****

  Hope sprang as Mike heard steps outside the cabin. Maybe she got lost. Maybe she realized how fucking stupid she was being—

  The door opened to reveal two figures, Benji and Kristof.

  Mike cursed. “Is she with you?”

  “No.” Kristof, big and blond, with buzzed hair and a square jaw, stepped in first with a frown. “What happened?”

  Thankfully, he’d managed to pull the bed far enough that he could reach his clothes, and had his boxers and jeans on so he wasn’t entirely nude.
Still couldn’t find the bobby pin, which meant he had to sit and wait until Benji had picked the cuff locks, and he used that time to briefly explain what had happened with the Huntsman.

  And Liliana’s subsequent plan to run straight into danger’s path.

  “There are more tracks out there,” Benji said. “We thought maybe you’d left after all but decided to check here first.”

  Kristof dropped a backpack at Mike’s feet; within it, he found spare clothes for himself and Liliana. He pulled on a T-shirt, then a sweatshirt, fresh socks, and winter boots. A couple bottles of energy drinks waited in the bag too, and he opened own, down most of it, then rose. They had to get moving.

  “They know we’re connected to Gina Cassidy, or at least her bakery,” Mike said as he pulled out a down-filled winter coat stuffed in the bag and slid his arms in the sleeves. “I’d warned Gina and Brennen to close the shop and not go back, and it would be closed by now, but that’s where Liliana would probably go.”

  “She thinks he’ll be waiting?” Benji frowned. “What’s she going to accomplish with this? Try to talk him into surrendering?”

  Mike shook his head. “She knows he won’t. If anything, she’ll try to talk him into letting her live. Convince him she’s not a threat. If he’s there, if he picked her up, we have to figure out where he’d take her.”

  “And what he’s driving,” Kristof added.

  Before heading to the door after the others, Mike paused a moment and patted his pants pockets, realizing the familiar weight of his phone wasn’t there. Of course—because she’d taken it, intending to record any conversations.

  “She has my phone,” Mike said. “Call the office, get someone tracking the GPS immediately, and hope the fucking battery holds out.”

  ****

  Liliana remained tense next to Jimmy. He drove fast—he always had, but in winter, the streets slick with ice and snow, a normal person would slow down. But Jimmy didn’t. He kept his foot on the accelerator and Liliana braced her arm against the door and held the seatbelt with her other hand.