Page 58 of Ice Queen

“What’s your story?” she asks.

My fingers drum against the wood before I can stop them. Maggie jumps over a patch of grass like a bunny, her ears flying, tail wagging so hard her whole body follows.

I bide my time by taking a sip, the vodka burns on the way down, my throat burning as I fight to keep from coughing. I’m not a big drinker, but she was so excited to have a glass that I said, “What the hell?”

Shocker.

It would be easier to joke, deflect, and keep up the tidy and low-maintenance facade, but I’m tired of being that way. I’m tired of walking around thinking everyone hates me, or that they’re going to report what I do and say back to Wyatt. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Something about her reminds me a lot of my mom. The way she spits out exactly what she’s thinking without worrying what anyone else thinks. She’s rough around the edges, but soft underneath it all. It’s comforting. And it makes me want to trust someone. Trust that I can be me, scars and all. Trust that I can put roots down here, and involve myself with this group of people, and not end up hurt.

“I actually met Markus years ago.” My eyes slide across the tree line at the far end of the ranch before they meet hers. Her forehead crinkles as her brows raise.

“Really now?” Her voice laced with interest.

I lean back against the banister, mimicking her stance, hoping it’ll give me some courage. “Yeah, I may have begged him to hide me.”

She snorts softly, her eyes rolling but filled with amusement. “That’ll do it. What brought that on?”

Finding the hem of my shirt, I fold it back and forth between my fingers until there’s sure to be a wrinkle. The movement started as something for me to focus on when I was expected to say nothing at Wyatt’s work parties. Now, it’s a way to ground myself when I’m anxious. “I met this guy in college.”

She lets out a scoff. “It’s always a guy, isn’t it?”

I smile, but the confidence I had moments ago slips through my fingers.

“You know,” I say, quickly waving it off. “It’s nothing.”

She steps in closer, her hand settling on my shoulder. “No, let it out.” Her voice softens. “Trust me.”

She exhales one long breath, eyes flicking toward the cows and Maggie. “I missed out on more than a decade with Lucas because I let my dad convince me that everything I loved as a kid was gone. Lucas included.” Her smile wobbles, but she pushes through. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t overhear a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear.”

The monitor crackles faintly in the background. “There’s not a person here who isn’t without baggage. But we love each other despite it. That’s what family does.”

The words lands heavier than they should. I stare down at my shoes. How many moments did I miss with my own family because I thought love meant loyalty, no matter the cost? How many Christmases and Thanksgivings did they wish I’d come home? Was it just the first year, or did they hope I’d walk through the door every year until they passed?

Damn it, I don’t want to miss out on any more of those moments.

“His name is Wyatt.” The name tastes bitter on my tongue. “He's an arrogant asshole. But I didn’t see that at first.”

I lift my head, forcing myself to keep going despite the way my stomach tries to crawl up my throat. “I saw someone who took an interest in me. Ironically, he used to play hockey, or so I’m told. He supposedly got injured the year before I got there. From what I understand, he took a career-ending hit, something retaliatory. He was handsome and charming. Too perfect, now that I think about it. Anytime I asked about his hockey career, he’d brush it off as ‘too painful to talk about.’ Lies and betrayal, he said.”

The first tear falls to the ground, darkening the wood beneath my feet as I remember all the things he did for me in the beginning. The flowers, how he walked me to class, carried my books, and told all his friends about me. He doted on me, made me feel like I was the center of his entire universe.

Scoffing, I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I got so caught up in the idea of him, of us, that I didn’t notice when I stopped being me.”

The girl who laughed too loudly, stayed out too late, and didn’t rehearse conversations a thousand times in her head before speaking. I was the girl who came out to play when I was texting Markus earlier. Bold for a moment, free, alive.

I take a deep breath, holding it for a beat before letting it out. “I didn’t realize what was happening until it already had.” My chest tightens. “I was completely dependent on him. I hadn’t worked in years, had no money or friends of my own.”

My eyes burn, tears coming faster as my throat constricts. “My parents had passed, and when I looked in the mirror…” I shake my head, running my tongue across my tear-stained lips. “I hated who I saw. Who I let him turn me into.”

I lick my lips, the salty evidence of my pain bursts on my tongue. I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves. I’m this far into the story, might as well tell the whole thing.

“But one night, I overheard something.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “He knew me too well. He knew my tells. I knew he’d know something was wrong, and the mental abuse I’d been put through over the years would turn physical. He was almost there, anyway.”

I straighten slightly. “So I ran.”

“Something like other people are in danger?” she asks gently.