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“What the fuck?” Kane barks.
I don’t look back at him. Don’t need to. I can imagine the curled lip and wrinkled brow on his face, burning despite the cold I forced on him. I’d be pissed too if I woke, suddenly, to the rush of icy morning air over my nearly-naked body. But because I don’t look back, I don’t know he’s behind me until he spins me around, tearing the blanket away from me.
“Kane. You—.” It was going to be a really good tirade. Lots of colorful language, but before I can get into it, the chill washes over me and makes my need for the bathroom immediate. “Fuck you,” is all I get out as I tuck my hands between my legs, turn, and run to the bathroom, leaving Kane laughing behind me.
Chapter seven
Alice
“That was really fuckingrude,” I say, coming back out, shivering with my arms wrapped around myself to find Kane killing the fire on the gas stove top.
“You started it.”
“Now who’s the childish one?” I pick up the blanket he stole from me, draped over the bar stool that’s tucked under the counter, and wrap it around my shoulders again before sitting down.
“Eat,” he says, ignoring the reference to the insult he threw at me last night as he pushes a plate of scrambled eggs across the counter.
I poke just enough of my hand out of the opening in the blanket to use my fork.
We eat in silence.
When I finish, I take my blanket and go to sit on the couch in front of the fire.
“When can I go home?” I ask when he sits down next to me.
“Not sure. At least have to wait until this storm passes,” he answers noncommittally. Even though it’s the obvious answer, it sounds like a lie.
Or maybe that’s what I hear because I’m used to never getting a straight answer. I’m not sure if my dad has ever given me one.
“Not that it makes any difference what time I get home,” I say, deciding not to make something out of nothing. “Not like there’s a warm family Christmas waiting for me or anything.”
“Your father loves you. You know that, right?”
I can’t help barking out a laugh. “How can he love me if he’s never spent any real time with me? He doesn’t even know me. I doubt he even knows when my birthday is.”
“June fifth,” Kane mumbles.
I shift my glance trying not to show my shock. “I thought you forgot.”
A year hadn’t gone by Kane didn’t give me a gift on my birthday. Even if he couldn’t be there, he sent something in the mail that arrived on the day. Of course, I can only remember a few birthdays before he left, but I have the gifts from the years before that prove he never forgot. Then he left and my birthday went unacknowledged, year after year. Only adding to how much I hated him and confirming how little my father cares about me. It got harder and harder every year. If it hadn’t been for Kayleigh, I’m not sure I’d have survived high school.
“I would have sent you gifts, letters… called you, but it was too dangerous. The risk—.”
“What happened?” I ask, turning to look him in the eye. This time, demanding an answer. Fiery rage blazes behind my eyes waiting for it. When he doesn’t respond, I shout at him, “I’m a big girl, Kane. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“I should go grab more firewood,” Kane says as he stands.
“God damn it, Kane. It’s Christmas Eve. I have no family. My friends left me. Can’t you just give me something? Can’t you giveme thisonething?” The fire behind my eyes pours out in hot tears down my cheeks. “Give me the truth.”
A little hope fills my heart as he stands there, searching my face like he’ll find the right words written on my skin. Then he crushes that hope when he turns away, throws on his jacket, pushes his feet in his boots, and trudges out into the snow, leaving me behind to wonder, like I always do when my dad leaves, if I’ll ever see him again.
Not wanting to think about it, Kane or my asshole father ruining yet another holiday, I pull the blanket up over my head, and let myself drift back to sleep.
Chapter eight
Kane
Can’t you just giveme something?
