The Everest Brothers: Ethan - Hutton - Bennett

by Scott, S. L.

  I prefer Bennett’s sweetheart to Kurt’s princess, Bennett’s light to Kurt’s dark.

  “You’re confused,” I say flatly. “You don’t love me, and I don’t love you. That’s not what we ever were. I used you to get back at my father. I stole your insider secrets to win back his love.”

  “You think you used me, but I won. I outplayed a player. I can respect that you tried, and it doesn’t matter where you are in life, you’ll always be mine.”

  “I’m not now, and I’ll never be. I’m not yours. I’m not even my own. You threw me out as bait in the middle of Paris but never told me who to lure. No, you don’t love me, Kurt, and I don’t love you.”

  “I do, and you do. You always did.”

  “No, I just didn’t know any better.” Now I do. I don’t know why I’m confessing this to him, but it seems like maybe he needs to hear it.

  “You now love an Everest?”

  Yes. Flutters fill my tummy, but I hold down any sign that will give away how much I love Bennett. I hope to see him again one day, so I must lie better than I ever have. “Love was never meant for me. I’m buried under too much darkness.”

  “I want to scrub you clean of your sins and his fingerprints from your skin. I will own you again, Winter.” His hand clamps down on my throat, and he starts to squeeze, fear shooting through me as I yank at the chains.

  My eyes begin tracing the pattern in the French fabric above to find a safer place in my mind, but he finally releases. “No one will ever own me again,” I say, coughing.

  “I can give you everything you ever dreamed of.”

  There’s no malice in his expression when I glance his way. He seems to believe what he’s saying. He’s playing his best game yet—the human one—but I’m too wise to fall for it this time. “You can’t give me a real family, and you will never love me like I deserve.” I close my eyes and the words you aren’t Bennett float through my head. “You tried to kill me. How is that love?”

  “Your nine lives prove your pussy is mine. We’re meant to be together. And I can give you your family back. I can make them love you. You will have me. You’ll want for nothing.”

  When I see how hopeful he is, I know there’s no real question being asked. Only a demand. Some things will never change. If I refuse him, he’s never going to let me live. I’m never going to walk out of here. So I do have a choice, but both of them end in my death—body or soul.

  It doesn’t matter how he tries to pretend we’re friends, lying on the bed next to me like I’m here by choice. I pull at the chains binding me to the bed, a reminder to him of what this really is.

  He sits up, turning his back to me. He knows how I feel about a future with him. Once I left, I only looked back when I was forced to. He’s incapable of accepting the truth. A heavy sigh falls across his shoulders, and he stands, straightening his shirt. “I must go, or I’ll be late for dinner.”

  “With your fiancée.”

  “She might be my fiancée, but you could be my wife.”

  Lose-lose is what that is. There’s no other way around it. He’s never actually said the word love because he has never known it. I can play his game to live a little longer or die trying to get the answers I need. “Why did you kidnap me?”

  Returning to where he left his drink, he lifts it to his mouth but pauses. “This is your last chance, Ms. Nobleman.”

  “Last chance?”

  “To live.” With his back to me, he finishes the liquor in one swift go and sets the glass down. He looks back at me, and says, “You have until I return. Then I want an answer.” The room is left ripe with his anger in his absence.

  And I’m left to decide if I want to live or die.

  33

  Winter

  Curling onto my side, I try to go back to sleep, but when I realize I’m free, my lids fly open.

  Chelsea sits in the chair with her legs tucked under her, the white evening gown flowing over the side and pooling on the floor next to her sparkling shoes.

  A puff of smoke fills the air above her, causing me to look down at her hand. The cigarette needs to be tapped, but her eyes are on me with black streaks staining her cheeks. “Who’s Bennett?”

  I don’t reply, but since I’m unchained, I get up cautiously. She doesn’t seem to mind. She’s a mess, and my gut tells me that’s not good for me. An empty bottle of red wine sits on the table and what looks to be the last of it in a glass next to it.

  She repeats her question and then takes another long drag of the cigarette, her eyes never blinking or leaving mine.

  “A friend.”

  “A special friend if he’s worth mentioning in your sleep,” she adds, ash falling on the dress and burning the silk fabric. The black dots meld with the red wine she’s already spilled. “Did you know that you can’t buy happiness?”

  She’s a woman on the edge of a breakdown, so I proceed cautiously. “I learned the hard way.”

  “So did I.” She smiles as if we’re bonding. “I didn’t know you were here until today. I didn’t know . . .” The smile falls away and takes a sip of wine. “As soon as you arrived, he was on edge. Anxious to see you. When I confronted him, he slapped me.”

  Moving closer to the large wardrobe, I reach for a long yellow skirt on a hanger dangling from the corner, and then move slowly like we’re friends spending time together. I’d prefer jeans or pants, but I’m not pushing my luck and stick to the closest option.

  “That was before dinner,” she says, leaning her head back on the golden velvet wingback. “Kurt ended us right before the third course was served because you agreed to be his again.”

  Oh, no. My stomach tightens while my breathing picks up. I keep my eyes on her while slipping on the skirt. “That’s not true, Chelsea.”

  “What is the truth, Winter? Tell me how you got entangled with the man I’m supposed to marry.”

  “We were dating, and I fell for him.” The words are sour on my tongue, but the truth isn’t always tasteful. “I thought he loved me, but then he met you.”

  That brings a lazy smile to her lips, and her lids drag down and slowly back up. “I fell for him, too. I love him.” She eyes me.

  A row of flats are tucked under the wardrobe, the lavender suede pair that tie around my ankles are the closest. I won’t have time to wrap them up if I can get to them. “Your love is true. He should value that.” I step closer and start to toe them out from under the dark space.

  “He values a challenge. That’s not me. You’d be surprised how many men are afraid to approach a beautiful woman. He walked up, and I begged him to take me with him.” She scoffs and then takes another drag. “I’m pathetic.”

  One shoe is close enough to slip on. “You’re not.”

  “That’s his word for me.” She picks up the glass and finishes most of the wine.

  “You deserve better.”

  My actions catch her attention, and her eyes dip to the shoes. “Do I?”

  “Yes. I was where you are now, but I got out. You can, too.”

  She swivels her legs down, and her feet touch the ground. “There’s no getting out. Women like us are used and tossed away to age ungracefully while the men we love find a younger, prettier model for their arm.”

  “You will only get what you settle for, Chelsea. You can do so much better than Kurt.”

  She throws her glass and it shatters under the window. “Is that what you did, Winter? You turned him down because you didn’t want to settle? You’re a liar! Everyone knows it. You were begging him after he chose me.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  Raising her voice, she says, “You did,” pointing a finger at me. “He would tell me how you were so desperate that you would let him fuck you anywhere. You’d beg him.”

  I slip on the other shoe; the straps twisted uncomfortably under my feet. While trying to remain calm, I reply, “He forced me, Chelsea. That’s not a lie. That’s the truth I have to live with every day of my life.”

 
“What are you saying?” She crosses her arms over her chest, the sleeve slipping down on the right side. “Are you accusing him of raping you?”

  Closing my eyes, I remember meeting him like it was yesterday. I was so bright-eyed and innocent to the real world. I was the perfect prey. “I was a girl with daddy issues who would accept any advances as a substitute.”

  When I see her lower her defenses of him, I add, “He didn’t rape me.” Our history races through my mind. “He blackmailed me instead, presenting my options like I had a choice when I knew I had none. So yes, Kurt fucked me how he pleased, even if he gave me the option of where. But I never begged.”

  “He blackmailed you how?”

  My mother’s locket catches my eyes, hanging from the mirror behind her. I want it. I look back at Chelsea, hoping she doesn’t notice. I’m not sure where her heart lies right now—precariously balancing between a breakdown and her love for a man who doesn’t love her.

  I take small steps forward, determined to get the necklace around my neck before I leave this place for good. As careful with my words as my steps, I reply, “My family’s company. He could have destroyed it, but he didn’t.”

  “He didn’t because he had you.” She’s connecting the dots.

  And for the first time, I exhale all the guilt I’ve carried around for years. Rubbing my wrists, I also ask, “Did you release me?”

  She’s very approachable in her sorrow, looking for a friend in an enemy. Sadly, she’s just another woman used by that disgusting man. “I did. He never hit me before tonight. For this, he’ll kill me,” she says, losing the energy to fight.

  I understand the hopelessness. I’ve been living like that for years because of him, but I’m not willing to die with her. Expending the weight of what I took the blame for, I take the chain from the mirror and drop it over my head. It’s a risky move but one worth taking, not only for me but also for my mother. She deserves to be remembered. I walk toward the door.

  “You can’t leave, Winter.”

  I turn back to see the broken woman before me. It’s then that I realize she’s right. I can’t leave. Not yet. I’ve been in her shoes—alone, hurting, with nowhere to turn. I take a cleansing wipe from the vanity and go to her. “Let me help you.” If anyone ever needed someone in her corner, it’s Chelsea at this moment.

  She tilts her head back, and I wipe gently across her cheeks, removing the mascara streaks from her face. She doesn’t move, but her eyes stay on me the whole time. I whisper as if someone else will hear us. “I got out, and you can, too.” Her heart is good. I just know it is, so I treat her with the kindness I wish I had been shown. Tossing the wipes on the table, I then hold out my hand. “I’ll help you.”

  As if the prospect of leaving overwhelms her, she sits on the edge of the chair, pushing her hair behind her shoulders and adjusting her slipped sleeve back into position. “He’s going to kill us.”

  “We have to fight.” I’m so close to the door, and here I am, giving my freedom away by waiting. But this may be the only chance she’s ever given, so I stay. “I’ll help you.”

  “Promise?” She grabs her shoes and slips them on.

  “I promise.”

  Taking her clutch in one hand, she holds my hand in the other. “I want to go home. I want to see my family. I don’t want to live this life anymore.”

  “You will, but we need to go.”

  “He’s been living next door to you the whole time.”

  I take a shuddering breath. So much makes more sense now. I have no doubt my apartment had cameras to spy on me too, even if I never found them. “Is he there now?”

  “Yes.”

  There is no escape. “He’ll know we’re leaving.”

  “No. He took a sleeping pill earlier after he made me pour him a drink. He needs both to sleep.” The monster can’t sleep with his dirty conscience.

  “So we need to be quick and quiet.” She nods as I open the door of the apartment and peek into the hallway. It’s clear.

  “I want to finish college. Kurt made me quit when we got engaged.”

  I hold my finger to my lips. I’m not sure where the monsters reside, but I don’t want to wake the sleeping beasts. We tiptoe down the hall as quiet as mice.

  But not quiet enough it seems . . . I hear the click of the knob before I hear him. “It’s a little late to be going out, Chelsea. Come here.” Kurt snaps his fingers, commanding her like she’s his pet. “I see you made friends—”

  “With your obsession.” She holds my hand and looks back.

  “Obsession.” He rolls the word a few more times.

  Squeezing my eyes tight, I gather strength from my mom and from the man who wanted nothing from me, but who I am. I look down at my hand wrapped around hers and see the deep blue painted on my nails. It’s not a coincidence I chose this color for the first time since my mom’s death. I know she’s here with me, watching over me. Now I need to be the warrior she believed me to be.

  With my other hand, I hold the locket and start walking again, taking Chelsea with me.

  “Winter!” Kurt’s voice slaps our backs. The cock of a gun follows. Chelsea stops and looks back again, causing me to stop. He asks, “How does that make you feel, Winter? To have a man willing to dispose of anyone in our way to have you?” I don’t look back, not one millimeter. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my face. But I do tighten my hold on Chelsea, praying she sees him for who he really is and not the Prince Charming she wants him to be. Two more snaps and then another command, “Here! Now, Chelsea.”

  I look at her. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

  Sobs wreck her frail body. “I’m not strong like you.”

  “Don’t go. Please,” I beg, my hands starting to shake. Do I let her go? Do I save myself? Looking at her, I see so much of who I used to be—clinging to anyone who pretended to love me. I was wrong. I didn’t need attention like that. I needed the patience to find the attention I deserved. I know how this ends for her. “He’ll kill me, and then he’ll kill you. Maybe not today, but he will be the end of you.”

  “Chelsea!” His voice booms, causing us to jump.

  Then time slows, my breath heavy in my chest when the elevator dings. The hall goes quiet as the brass doors slide open ahead.

  Thirty feet.

  Two doors.

  Three seconds.

  Weapons drawn.

  Lars’s eyes land on me as he rushes from the elevator with a gun leading the way. I can’t find comfort in the rescue because Bennett runs right after. Our eyes meet, and my free hand flies in front to stop him from coming closer when the fire of a bullet echoes from behind me. “Nooooo!”

  34

  Winter

  Chelsea screams, and her body crumples next to me. Another shot is fired as I’m dragged to the floor with her. Our hands stay clasped as the brightness in her eyes fades, seeking that life she spoke about. “Chelsea?” I cry, trying to get to her.

  Red blood spreads across the white dress like ants spilling out of an anthill. It all happens so fast and flows slowly through each thread covering her chest. A heavy form lands behind me and rolls me to the other side before I can take a breath.

  The soulful eyes I could stare into forever look back at mine as gunfire fills the air. That incredible smile that had me hooked from the moment I saw him shines, but then disappears as he jolts, falling forward. His back arches in as he lands on top of me. “I love you,” falls from Bennett’s lips as his weight comes to rest.

  “No—” I’m about to scream again, but Bennett’s hand covers my mouth. He kisses under my ear, and whispers, “Be still. Play dead.”

  Oh, thank God. “I thought you were dead,” I say in a quiet sob, but then do as he says and close my eyes. Chelsea’s fingers still clasp mine. I can’t see her, but I know she’s hanging on.

  Bennett’s phone is on the floor and 112 on the screen. His body remains still as his finger presses send. I hear the emergency call answered just
as a door slams down the hall.

  Lars’s deep voice penetrates my soundless tears when he yells, “Move.”

  In one giant jump, Bennett pulls me to my feet, and I’m ripped from Chelsea as we run toward the elevator. He lands with a thud against the wall, my body crashing into his before we change places. I say, “Get Chelsea.”

  “Lars has her.” Tucked in a corner hidden from view of the door, Bennett’s hands roam my body as he checks to make sure I’m in one piece. Wanting to protect me from the whole wide world, he uses his body to shield me. Cupping my face, he finally asks, “Are you okay?” I turn my gaze to the sky, seeing the sandstorms roll into his eyes and concern forcing a line between his brows. “Winter.” He pauses, and I catch a glimpse of pain shade his expression.

  Holding his wrists, I finally release my anguish. “We have to get her to a hospital.”

  “We will, but we have to get out of here first.”

  Lars runs into the elevator with Chelsea in his arms, Bennett punching the button as I maneuver around to see her. Moving her hair away from her face, I lift on my toes. “We’re going to get you help.” I take her hand and warm it between mine. “Okay?”

  The elevator finally starts its descent, but through the quiet, I hear her hard swallow. Though her body is limp in Lars’s arms, a small smile appears before she rests her eyes. I look at Lars, and he silently reassures me.

  “I texted the police the address and to send an ambulance,” Bennett says.

  Reaching up, Chelsea rests her hand on my shoulder. “You should forgive yourself.”

  “I can’t.” I shake my head and then lower it in shame. “I caused this. I set everything in motion.”

  “With good intentions, Winter.”

  “The road to hell.” I take a harsh breath, inwardly scolding myself. I never related to a cliché more than I do now. My legs feel weak, so I move to the side and grab onto the railing, holding myself up.