Black Ice: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Mickey Miller

  I gazed down the hallway at the mahagony door at the end.

  Louisa’s door.

  I tiptoed down the hall, unlocked the door, and went in.

  My mother and I had once discussed trying to move her things out, and move on, but we never got around to it.

  Now it was so many years later, and there was no reason to move her things now. Coming inside here never ceased to bring a rush of emotion with it. Seeing the pink walls she herself had gotten the idea to paint. The paper photo of her high school boyfriend pinned to the cork board.

  She hadn’t been weak after my dad’s death. She needed a man in her life to carry her through a dark time.

  I picked up the photo of the two of us on her work desk.

  And I failed her completely. I should have seen her acting out, acting crazy. I shouldn’t have been so wrapped up in my own grief.

  Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

  I couldn’t change the past.

  My chest stirred with emotion as I set the photo of us down.

  My dad’s death wasn’t preventable, barring a huge overhaul of the mine.

  Louisa’s, however, was. Knowing that my actions could have saved a life would eat at me forever.

  There was no way I could let Bob and Jared cause psychological or physical harm to Natalie. That would haunt me in the same way. Worse, actually, since I was older now and had more experience weighing on my shoulders.

  I sensed this magnetic pull to Natalie the moment I heard her voice, and even more so when I saw her. I felt as though I’d been drifting in the world without a purpose or a true care, well except for my mom of course.

  I tried in vain to hate her. Things would be simpler if they were black and white. But there simply was no argument to be made for Natalie as a villain, like we could for her father. She didn’t deserve to be punished. She deserved to be saved, and forgiven.

  I blew out a deep breath, and the final straw came when I asked myself the question I sometimes did, when I needed guidance: What would Louisa do?

  I fought back the tears that welled when I ran that mental model through my brain. I could hear Louisa’s voice whispering inside my head. Like really hear the tone of her voice.

  Forgive her, Shane. You must forgive to truly move on.

  That pushed me over the edge. If Bob and Jared were out for—whatever revenge they sought—I would be against them. My loyalty lied with Natalie, now. Not because I was incredibly attracted to her. Not because she offered her virginity to me.

  But because it was the right thing to do. Adrenaline coursed through me. I would do whatever it took so that another innocent life wouldn’t be harmed in the wake of the pain that this town had already been through.

  I’d protect Natalie with my own life. Even if I had to chain her up against her will to save her from herself.

  Hopefully she’d be reasonable when she woke up. Though after being told that the one man you know in town once plotted to kidnap you? Well, I could understand how that could make a girl mad. I’d have a chat with her over coffee and explain everything as best I could as soon as she woke up.

  I left Louisa’s room, then checked on Natalie once more. She was sleeping quietly, softly. I kissed her forehead, then headed downstairs to see what else I could find in her father’s journals.

  20

  Natalie

  When I blinked my eyes open that morning, I felt like I was living in some twisted horror movie.

  But no, alas, this was real life, and my right wrist was attached to the top bedpost.

  My left, thankfully, was free. I was half-surprised he left me alone in the bed.

  He hadn’t tried to make a move last night. That didn’t surprise me, because although Shane might have been a liar—a sexy liar—he wasn’t creepy.

  I weighed the possibility of just staying here. I could wait it out per Shane’s instructions and…what, exactly?

  If Jared and Bob were as much of loose-cannons as Shane said, I needed to just get the hell out of here.

  I played with the cuff on my right for a few minutes, and then slid out like no big deal. Ha. Should have used real cuffs, buddy.

  The cuff on my left hand annoyingly wouldn’t come off, though, no matter what I tried, and I had to be quick to put my plan into action.

  I tiptoed into Louisa’s room and tried the knob.

  Alas! It was open this time. Jackpot.

  I found wool socks, long underwear, snowpants and a coat. She had gloves up there, too. I kept listening for Shane downstairs, all the while. He was quiet.

  My damn phone was all the way in my abandoned rental car, I realized. Even if I got away, where would I go?

  The priest’s house, I decided. The church. They’d have to help me. If I couldn’t trust the cops.

  I pulled a ski cap over my head—the one with three holes—and sighed at the ridiculousness of this all.

  Not twenty-four hours ago, I’d offered my virginity to Shane after he blew my mind, and Mr. Hottie from the north refused to take it. Instead, he decided to come clean with me about…concocting a plan to kidnap me?

  And then he technically *did* kidnap me. If I wasn’t in survival mode last night, and if he wasn’t such a liar, I might have actually *let* him cuff me to the bed to have his way with me.

  Whatever we had was tainted now though, and there was no way we were going back to whatever messing around we were considering doing during this trip.

  My eyes landed on something shiny in Louisa’s room. I picked the iron up and felt its weight. I might need a weapon at some point, so I grabbed it.

  I slid the window up, opened the screen as well, then put on my gloves, grabbed the iron, and stepped out onto the roof.

  I had only one goal now: and that was to get back to Florida alive, and never come back to this town. I’d get the closure I needed with my father some other way.

  My heart raced, and I looked down at the fluffy white snow below. I estimated about a fifteen foot drop. Padded by the snow it wouldn’t be a big deal.

  I let out a big exhale and jumped.

  WHOMP.

  The landing wasn’t bad, but not as fluffy as I thought it would be, like jumping onto clouds. I dropped and rolled, then picked up the iron and stood up.

  The snow was taller than I thought it would be. My head barely poked above the snow to see anything. I walked toward what seemed to be the street until I found a path that had been shoveled this morning.

  A door creaked behind me that sent chills down my spine.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Shane’s voice sounded deep. He’d never looked as menacing as he did in that moment.

  He wore jeans, boots, and a ribbed maroon tank top that hugged his washboard abs. I could see every rippling muscle in his arms as he stalked toward me.

  “So you escaped. Bravo. Where are you going now?”

  “I’m getting the hell out of here,” I snipped. “Away from you.”

  I swallowed as he came closer, holding the iron behind my back. Maybe he didn’t deserve what I was about to do. Maybe he really had tried to “help” me.

  “I’m the only damn one here who’s able to protect you.”

  Ten feet from me. My heart raced. My palms sweated underneath the gloves.

  “What you did last night, cuffing me to the bed, was so degrading, so dehumanizing. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “What don’t you understand about the fact that if you left last night, you would have died in that snow storm. Happens every year—some poor soul thinks they are better than Mother Nature and they freeze to death. Get locked out of their house, and so forth.”

  He stood right in front of me, hands on hips. His blue-gray eyes, like a wolf’s, were laser-focused on me.

  “What would you do if you were me?”

  “I wouldn’t be so trusting, first of all.”

  “Trusting?” He laughed. “I tied you up.”

  “You did. And you should have ti
ed me up better.”

  He barely saw it coming. I brought the iron around and swung it as hard as I could. He partially blocked it with his left arm, but part of it knocked his head and he fell to the ground.

  Shaking, I turned and ran.

  I ran as fast as I could in Louisa’s boots toward the street. My heart hammered faster and louder than the beat of a night club.

  The street had been plowed just enough that I was able to run down the middle of it.

  I smiled, relief pouring through me. I still knew these streets like the back of my hand from the days when I would ride around on my bike. I was going to be fine.

  And then I slipped.

  If any outsiders had seen me, I probably looked like one of those slapstick Disney falls where someone trips on a banana.

  I landed smack dab on my ass with the wind knocked out of me.

  As I ached, I lay in the sun and basked in the rays.

  Until they were blocked out a few moments later by an ominous figure.

  I’d never seen Shane with such an expression.

  He was breathing hard, his frosty breath visible in the air. His nostrils were flared. His fists were clenched at his sides. He had a red mark on his forehead from where I’d hit him with the iron.

  Apparently not hard enough.

  “Time to go back and talk about who the *real* loose cannon is.”

  He picked me up and put me over his shoulder.

  “Let go of me!”

  I felt a spank on my ass and it sent a burning feeling through my whole body.

  “From here on out, Dyno, the only option is to do things my way.”

  I tried elbowing him in the back but it was no use. It was like I was tickling a giant.

  Once we were inside, he threw me down on the couch, then went back and bolted the door.

  I swallowed as I watched him go into a cabinet, pull out a bottle of whisky, and two glasses.

  “I thought you didn’t drink,” I commented.

  He smiled evilly. “I don’t. But we don’t have any Advil in the house. And that iron you threw at me has my head throbbing. Dyno.”

  The way he said my name sent chills down my spine.

  “Now that you mention it, my head hurts a little, too. Mind if I have a sip?”

  He poured two drinks and handed one to me.

  “Cherry will be coming over after her shift to do the concussion protocol on you. And me, now, too.”

  Shane threw his head back and sucked down his whiskey. All of his.

  He stared at me and flexed his jaw. “I suppose this is what I get.”

  “For trying to kidnap me, yes.” I stared at the red mark on his forehead.

  I was getting hot in all of my getaway clothes, so I began disrobing. I took off my snow pants and coat in the living room while we continued our conversation.

  “You’re a crazy bitch, anyone ever tell you that?”

  I swept a hand across my forehead to get rid of the beads of sweat that had formed.

  “Language.”

  He laughed as he refilled his glass with a shot’s worth or so of whisky. “You’re unbelievable. On the crazy scale, you’re a fucking ten.”

  I was still hot when I got the coat off. I pulled my sweater off, too, then picked up my whiskey glass. I was sure I looked ridiculous wearing long underwear, a tank top, and blue boots.

  “I’m a ten on the crazy scale?”

  He nodded, a smile pulling at his mouth. “At least. To be fair, the scale starts at a four. You might even be an eleven.”

  “Out of ten?” I shook my head, not waiting for him to explain his scale. “Not sure if you noticed,” my tone dripped with sarcasm. “But the past week has been a little traumatic for me. My father died. The heater broke. Now I’m snowed in with a man who once plotted to kidnap me, and handcuffed me to a fucking bed all last night!”

  “And there are two men out there who still want to kidnap you.”

  “Don’t remind me!”

  I swallowed down the Bulleit Rye and enjoyed the burn on my throat. “Fill it up again.”

  He hesitated. “And I saved you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t understand how it’s gotten lost on you that I saved your life last night when you veered off the road, as I predicted you would.”

  His ice-colored eyes stared so hard at me, they threated to burn a hole in me.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I need to get the fuck out of here.”

  He raised an eyebrow and poured me a little more. “Oh? And go where, Florida? Your father’s house?”

  I shrugged and sipped.

  “I’d find somewhere. I’d get away.

  “The roads are shut down in and out of here. Your shitty little rental car is under three feet of snow by now. And the flakes are starting to come down again.”

  He looked outside, and shook his head. I couldn’t believe it. Already seemed like it was starting to get dark again. These damn days were so short.

  “How do I even know you’re telling the truth about Jared, Bob, and the police? You could be lying.”

  He finished his whiskey and set it down, then motioned with one finger for me to come closer to him.

  I reluctantly did, until we were standing face to face in the middle of the living room, holding our drinks.

  “Let me get this fucking straight. Your theory is that I risked my life to save you last night, then tied you up—just to fuck with you. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, I’m making up a story about a couple of people who will do some damage to you if you escape.”

  “Well when you put it that way…”

  “No, no no. You’re telling me, I’m making it all up?”

  My heart raced. I could smell the whiskey on his breath.

  I licked my lips and a wave of emotion came back to me of when I was little and still lived in Michigan. My dad coming home with liquor on his breath. Fights with my mom. I close my eyes and shook, then swallowed my own drink and set it down.

  “I’ve never even met Jared or Bob,” I contended, my argument sounding weaker and weaker.

  I’d never seen a man like this. He glared at me with extreme tightness in his eyes and expression, his face a red hue from having been outside in the cold. Did this man even get cold?

  “How do you think your heat got broken, Natalie?”

  A chill washed over me. He continued. “Did you think that was an act of God? That was Jared breaking in and fucking with you. He and Bob. When they were drunk. Thank God you slept through it. They always carry a gun with them. Can you imagine if you would have found them and tried to call the cops? They could have killed you.”

  I froze, heat flushing through my body.

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Because I fucking like you Natalie. God help me, but I do.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “I do know you though. I know how you taste. I know where you come from. And I know that since I met you, my life is never going to be the same.”

  My cheeks heated.

  “I don’t mean some true love bullshit,” he continued. “I just mean you’ve made me confront some things that were buried, deep down. Uncomfortable emotions. And now, I care about you. I’ve done some things, planned some things I’m not proud of, yes. But right now, if something happened to you under my watch, that’s on me. I’m not fucking around anymore. I thought you’d come to your senses this morning, come down and eat with me. Not try to escape like you’re some princess locked in a tower.”

  I blew out a loud, frustrated breath. I hated to admit that he was mostly right.

  I also hated to admit that as he licked his lips, my mind drifted to what we had done last night. How I had watched him secretly in the bathroom.

  “I am locked here, though,” I spat out.

  “Yeah well, I don’t control the fucking weather. Another storm’s coming.”

  “I can make it out of here.
”

  He reached up with his thumb and forefinger and grabbed my chin.

  “See what I mean? You’re a fucking ten. I wouldn’t be surprised if I look crazy up in the dictionary and see your name next to it.”

  I grabbed his forearm with my hand.

  We were both breathing as hard as if we were in the middle of a marathon.

  “But you know what?” he growled. “Maybe I’m crazy, too.”

  His face tightened and drifted closer to mine. I reached a hand out and put it on his abs.

  “Why?”

  “Because as much as I try to hate you right now, I can’t stop think about doing this.”

  Keeping the hand on my chin, he reached the other around to the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss.

  21

  Natalie

  My heart exploded with pangs of desire as our lips collided.

  This man was a beast who wasn’t afraid to chain me to his fucking bed, I reminded myself.

  My chest tightened. I tensed all of my muscles, wanting so badly not to want him, not to desire this, not to give in to this monster of a man.

  My mind was built for survival and knew crossing this line would be very, very bad.

  That didn’t matter, though.

  My body betrayed me, gave away what I wanted with him.

  It made no sense to me. Why did I feel like he was the only man I’d ever met who could give me what I wanted?

  It started with a quiver that originated in my core and ran out in all directions. The warmth overwhelmed me.

  My will was strong to resist, but his was stronger.

  The final betrayal came when a pleasureful moan slipped out of my mouth and into his, revealing my bodily cravings for him to keep kissing me.

  I wanted everything with him, and he didn’t seem like much for stopping right now.

  After what seemed like minutes, he pulled his lips away and stared at me with his big bad wolf eyes.

  “Wow,” I swallowed. “It’s possible that I like you.”

  “I know. Too bad I hate you,” he gritted out. “For all the trouble you’ve put me through.”