AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My stomach knots with dread as I see my brother has left dozens of text messages and my voicemail is full. Clutching the blanket against my breasts, I feel the happy bubble surrounding my time here pop and disintegrate around me when I see the image of the text Cole sent to my brother, oh joy it has attachments. Dozens of provocative pictures of me sleeping fill the screen, each hurting more than the last. My finger shakes as I reach to play the recording, and all of the blood drains from my body when my voice moaning his name filters out of the tiny speaker. Reality rushes in leaving me feeling more exposed than when we were naked together.
He fucked me to get back at my brother.All of this was fake.
How did I not see this coming? People have been using me my whole life for one reason or another—fame, money, to get to Slater. And I knew about their rivalry and the lost gold medal. But still, for a moment there I though he liked me; just for me.
You’re in idiot Sloane, you even mentioned having kids with him.
Betrayal, unlike any I have ever felt before, surges through me, clogging my throat as tears fill my eyes. Simmering between red-hot rage and complete devastation, I clamor out of bed, tossing on clothing as quickly as I can when my eyes land on his phone.
Snatching it off the table, I try to open it, wanting to delete the vulnerable images of me—and the voice recording. Fuck. Of course, I can’t get into the damn thing.
“Screw this,” I tell Winnie, my voice thick even to my own ears. Sensing my distress, she leaps from the bed, landing softly on the pads of her giant feet to come stand at my side as I look wildly around the room for a clue to get into Cole’s phone. Not seeing any, my eyes fall to the knife block sitting on the smooth kitchen counter.
“That looks right,” I mumble to myself, sliding the biggest one out and raising it high over my head. Loosing a rage-filled scream, I bring the knife down, stabbing it into his phone with a sick sense of satisfaction as a spiderweb of cracks shatters the screen. I leave the knife sticking out of it—there’s some symbolism for you, asshole—then grab my bag from the corner, happy that I didn’t unpack much.
Winnie follows beside me, whining as I snatch up my things.
“Don’t worry girl, I’m going to take you with me,” I tell her, not knowing until that moment how important she had become to me in such a short time. “He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve us.”
A tear trickles down my cheek as I see the garbage bag with my Nan’s tree in it. Broken beyond repair, just like us.So stupid.My arm reaches for it, but I hesitate, knowing it’s useless, and leave it behind. Just as the shower turns off, I slide my arms into the cool material of my coat, grab my duffel, and escape out the door with Winnie by my side.
Chicks before dicks.
Chapter Seventeen
Cole
HummingoneofSloane’scatchy Christmas tunes, I shake my head as I step quietly back into the main space of the cabin with a towel slung around my hips. Maybe I hate the holidays, but I could learn to love them for her.Best night of my life.Careful not to wake Sloane after keeping her up for most of the night; I head toward the kitchen area for a granola bar, but my eyes widen in shock as my phone comes into view.
FUCK.
Panic claws at my chest, and I rush to the bed. No Sloane. No luggage. All her girly shit is still in the bathroom, but there isn’t much else in the cabin.
No. No. No.
Without thinking, I run out onto the porch—in my damn towel, without any shoes—and the icy morning air instantly freezes my skin, and my balls shrivel up. But I don’t have time to acknowledge just how cold I am, because my Fireball is trying to dig her car out of the snow.
Her red hair is shining in the morning light, and her body is rigid with anger as she claws through the snow using only her hands. Determination settles over her features, making her jaw clench and her silver eyes glitter, causing my stomach to revolt.I can’t let her go.
“Sloane,” I shout, leaping over the stairs, grimacing at the pain that shoots up my legs. Luckily, the towel stays on. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving. Obviously,” she replies, her tone filled with anger. Ignoring the freezing numbness seeping into my limbs and the shaking overtaking my body, I sprint toward the car, puffing at the burn in my lungs.
“Let’s go back inside and talk about this,” I demand, reaching for her hands, which are bright red from her digging. “Even if you get the snow off, you won’t be able to get through the streets. It’s not safe, they haven’t plowed yet.”
“I don’t care. I refuse to spend another minute here so you can take more pictures of me for the press—apparently,” she snaps, eyes flashing. Winnie slips between us, a growl rumbling from her throat, and I drop Sloane’s hand in surprise. I guess this is where we are again.
And it’s all my fault.
“Don’t be a brat. You know I was just saying that to piss off your brother. He deserved it for fucking my girlfriend and stealing my gold medal.” The angry words come out of my mouth and I immediately wish I could pull them back in. Her face flushes red, and a strangled cry comes from her throat.
“You need to grow the hell up, Cole. I’m not Slater, I never have been. And for the last time, he didn’t steal your Olympic medal. You lost it all on your own,” she hisses through her gritted teeth.
Reaching for her, I’m about ready to haul her ass inside when a loud honk emanates from the driveway. Sloane jumps, and my head whips around, turning to see a bright blue pickup truck with a snowplow lashed on the front.
“What in the world…” she trails off as the strange vehicle rumbles closer, before stopping abruptly. The door is thrown open and a large body emerges, quickly heading our way.
“Get away from my baby sister,” his voice shouts as a wall of furious muscle barrels toward us.
