“We can still pick it up when it’s ready. Like I said, the place is close.”
After that, under Seb’s watchful gaze, I force a few bites of breakfast, and then I get to work packing up our clothing. Then I move on to the kitchen to bag up the groceries we have left. We don’t have very much stuff, so the process doesn’t take us long.
I help Seb load up the truck. Snow has started to fall in thick waves. I move aside as B shuffles past me with our bags and tosses them into the truck bed. I walk across the porch slowly, the fluffy white powder squelching under my boots, and hand Seb two bags of food when he steps outside again.
Our fingers brush, and I shiver. “That should be the last of it.”
I walk back to inside and look around, sadness tugging at my throat. I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to enjoy our peace longer. B hasn’t said much about where we’re going, but I hope it doesn’t change anything.
I turn and lock the door, walk down the steps, and climb into the truck cab. Seb slams the tailgate closed and climbs in after me, and the smell of B’s leather jacket mixes perfectly with Seb’s citrusy shampoo in the small space.
As we back out of the driveway, I stare forlornly at the little A-frame, wishing everything were different. I hate that we have to run. Again. Anger warms my stomach. Dennis always fucks with everything, and this time, I swear he won’t get away with it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
BRANTLEY
Iswallow down my nerves as I wind down the treacherous Mount Baker roads and into Flurry. We drive by the car shop, Fi’s little red BMW sitting in the parking lot.
Fi sighs as we pass. “Bye, baby. We’ll be back for you soon.”
Turns out that the call to Bastian’s phone this morning was the mechanic letting us know that he had to go to a neighboring town for a part, so it’ll be another day or so before Fi’s car is fixed.
The snow comes down in thick gusts as we leave Flurry behind. I turn right off the highway and onto a road running parallel to the mountain. I can hardly see the pavement beneath the tires, and I know we’d be fucked in this weather if not for my truck.
“This is something else,” Seb mutters, peering out the passenger window.
I flick the wipers on high. “Yeah, it’s always a little colder this far north, but you’re right, this much snow is pretty rare.”
We lapse into silence, the radio playing a throaty Goo Goo Dolls song.
“Where are we going, B?” Fi asks after a few minutes. Her warm hand rests on my thigh, her fingers rubbing my jeans nervously. Whenever we hit a bump in the road, her grip tightens.
“You’ll see.” I smile at her annoyed huff. “It’s not far, like maybe thirty more minutes at this speed.”
We continue on, hills on our left and expansive farmlands on our right. I don’t tell them when we pass my childhood home. My dad owns several acres out here, and it’s easy to spot the dark brick mansion looming against the white snowscape. Five more minutes, and I turn down a tree-shrouded driveway, past a small pond, and pull in front of a rundown gray rancher. I swallow as I stare at it, childhood memories sharp as I take it in.
“Wow,” Sebastian snarks. “We traded one old house in the woods for another.”
Fi elbows him and looks at me expectantly.
I just turn off the truck, then climb out. My eyes sting with tears as I approach the pond, and I hear footsteps behind me as Fi and Bastian follow.
“Aiden and I used to come here when we wanted to be alone,” I say quietly. I nod to my right. “Our families lived just up the road, about a ten-minute walk, and we found this place one afternoon when my dad was being particularly dickish. It was abandoned as far as we could tell, though I later found out the owner was in hospice care, so he wasn’t around.” Fi slides her hand into mine, and Bastian steps closer to me, his body warmth comforting as I continue. “In the summer, we swam in the pond, and in the winter, if it got cold enough, I would skate.” I chuckle. “Aiden didn’t know how to skate, but he’d sit on the shore and give a play-by-play in his best announcer voice, like he was narrating a hockey game.” I pull the little brass key from my pocket and turn it over in my hand. “When I finally started making an NHL salary, I reached out to the owner’s son and bought it for way more than it was worth.”
Fi tugs at my hand, a worry line creasing between her eyes as she studies me. “B, I told you that we can’t go anywhere with connections to one of us.”
I smile. “I put it in Aiden’s name, so I’m not on the deed.”
We turn together and walk to the house.
Do you still keep in touch with him then?” Bastian asks, his hand grazing the small of my back as we walk. It makes me feel unexpectedly light.
“Yeah, we found each other on social media around the time I started at Whitmore U, and we kept in touch until my accident.” I step up to the wraparound porch and unlock the door, pushing it open. “He stopped talking to me after that, or rather, I stopped talking to him.” I swallow at the memory. All the texts and calls that I ignored. I’m positive that I hurt him. I was such a fucking mess. “He and his boyfriend come up here in the summers, I think.”
The place is tidy but dated. It looks like a living room from a nineties sitcom—tan carpet, a baby-blue plaid couch, an old leather arm chair, and a blocky TV perched on a dusty VCR.
“Shit, does that thing still work?” Fi drops my hand and scampers over to the VCR. She sticks her finger in the tape slot with a giggle. “I’ve never seen a one of these in real life, just in old movies.”
