28. Winter
TWENTY-EIGHT
WINTER
B efore I open my eyes, my first thought is: I don’t trust Marcus Law.
When I woke up on a boat and saw him sitting casually in a chair while I was hogtied on the ground, I contemplated how I could murder him with any appendage I could manage to free. But then when two goons that I later learned came from Morris Winthrope’s crew came to grab me, Marcus pulled me up and whispered in my ear to do everything exactly as he said. And I, for some reason, trusted him.
In the caves, he told me to scream so that Hunter could find us, and I did so without question. Now, in the cold daylight, I realize I probably shouldn’t have trusted him so freely.
Granted, he did end up pretty much saving all our asses at the end of the day, but he also participated in drugging my water, dragging me out of my home, and just generally scaring the shit out of me.
Now that the kind-yet-terrified Martinican doctor has finished assessing me, I’ve heard the baby’s strong heartbeat with the Doppler that I kept pressed to my stomach for several hours, we’ve consulted with the doctor back at Misha’s compound and I’ve finally been given clearance for a three-hour call with Genevieve, I’m able to think beyond my terror.
The main thought I have—behind my curiosity about what kind of illegal acts my husband facilitated to see to my care back on Winter Island—is that Marcus Law is not to be trusted.
“Knock, knock!” Ella’s voice is bright as she peeks around the door to the primary bedroom where I’ve been sleeping on and off for the last several hours. The disruption in my sleep pattern wasn’t because of what I’d just gone through, but rather because Hunter had the two nurses who accompanied the doctor check on me every thirty fucking minutes.
“Come in,” I say, trying to hide my weariness as she pushes into the room before I grant permission.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, bouncing over to sit on the bed next to my hip. The sun is out, and a quick glance at the clock on the bedside tells me it’s late in the afternoon.
“I’d feel a lot better if I could be left alone,” I grumble.
Ella lets out a small laugh that turns into a grimace.
“H wants to leave tonight,” she replies. I nod at the news. We have a full house—well, the house isn’t full since it’s massive, but there are a lot of people here. Misha, Luna, Leo, Ella, and Jared are here, along with a few dozen soldiers from The Resistance.
I’m conflicted because a big part of me really wants to go back home. But home is Misha’s place right now, and what I really want is to go home home—back to Amelia Manor.
I scoot up higher on the pillows, situating myself to face her and placing my hands over my bump. The baby kicks my palm, and my heart trips over itself.
We’re here. We’re safe. The other stuff doesn’t really matter.
“How is everyone?” I ask, changing the subject. Hunter has been annoyingly silent about the aftermath of everything except to say that Isla Cara burned to the ground and Morris Winthrope is dead.
Ella smiles, but it’s sad. “The people we rescued have a long road ahead, but Max is working with us and other organizations to get everyone back to their homes.”
My throat burns. If there’s one thing that makes any of the last twenty-four hours acceptable, it’s the fact that Misha and Hunter’s intervention saved more than a hundred people—not just the people The Legion trafficked, but the others who were imprisoned on Isla Cara too. But if there’s a long road ahead of the survivors, there’s a long road ahead of us too.
Even though Morris Winthrope is gone, we still don’t know who the leader of The Legion is.
“So I didn’t just come here to check on you,” Ella says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”
She bites her lip and traces a pattern on the bedspread. “There’s someone who is here to see you.”
My stomach does a somersault as I think of who it could possibly be—who I hope it could possibly be.
“Oh?” I say again, but this time with actual tears spilling forward.
“Sunbeam.”
I blink away the moisture and find Hunter standing in the entryway, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed.
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
With a deep, put-upon breath, he says, “In her excitement, Ella let it slip on a video chat last night about everything that’s happened. So I got a call from Rio not too long ago that he was in Martinique…along with Veronica and Summer.”
I let out an unladylike snort to clear the snot, which makes my nose feel even more full. My silent tears turn into outright sobs.
“Really?” I squeak.
Hunter nods. “Veronica would really like to see you, Sunbeam. Is that okay?”
I nod because words are especially impossible right now, and he takes a step back into the hallway outside our room and waves toward the opening.
The first person I see is Rio, and he’s holding Summer. She’s grown so much even though she’s been gone only a short while, but when Veronica comes into view, I shift my gaze from my smiling niece and toward my friend.
I pray she’ll be my friend again. Veronica and I stare at each other for a long, long while. She looks…good. Like she’s slept more, and her skin is tanned with an overlay of gold to her naturally dark brown complexion.
When Ella stands and motions for Veronica to sit on the bed, I finally blink and I’m relieved that my best friend is still there, rather than a figment of my imagination.
“We’ll leave you alone,” Ella says, turning to Hunter. When she’s out of the room, Hunter mouths, She loves you. Just talk.
I nod and return my gaze to my hands where they wind and unwind in my lap.
The door snicks closed and after a few heartbeats of me staring down, a Kleenex box comes into view inch by inch. The staggered appearance of it is so funny that I can’t help the giggle that escapes when I pull a tissue from the container.
The honk from blowing my nose is loud in the spacious room.
Get it together.
Finally, I look up at my best friend, my sister.
“Veronica, I…” I search for the words to start with even though I know all the things I want to say are a jumble in my brain, but before I can pull out what I want to say first, Veronica launches herself at me and hugs me fiercely.
That causes a fresh wave of tears to appear.
“Fuck, Winter,” she says with a stifled sob. “Are you okay?”
For once in the last near day, I don’t resent the question.
“Physically, yes. Emotionally?” I suck in a breath and her familiar scent. “I’m so fucking sorry, Veronica,” I say. She tightens her hug for a long moment before letting go.
When she leans back and opens her mouth to speak, I stop her, putting my hand out between us.
“Let me say this,” I start.
Veronica hunches inward a fraction, putting one arm across her chest and lifting the other to bite her nail.
A new habit.
“I said some really shitty things to you, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said them, I didn’t really mean it, but my intent doesn’t erase my impact. I know I hurt you, and I am so, so sorry,” I continue. Her face moves through different emotions, but she stays silent, likely knowing that I need to spill all of this before I can move on.
Before we can move on.
Veronica is your sister. You can mend this.
“I know that all you’ve ever wanted was for me to be happy and healthy and whole and loved. And I know you fear for me in all of those areas because you’ve seen me when I was absent of all of those things.”
A tear falls down her cheek, and she wipes the moisture away with the heel of her palm.
“These last several months…I know you’ve seen a side of me that’s unfamiliar, that’s not at all the Winter you know. But the truth is, you don’t know the real me because up until now, I didn’t know who I was. I was moving through life, pretending, but I wasn’t really…me. Whatever that actually means,” I say, and I feel myself starting to ramble, so I take another breath to center myself.
“I can understand that. Really, I can,” she says, her voice soft. But she gives me the floor again.
“I’m a complicated person. I mean, who isn’t, right? Humanity, living, is complicated. I know you think that Hunter has changed me, but he really hasn’t. What has changed, though, is that all the shit I’ve been through since Adam took me has given me a new outlook on my life and what it means for me to live.” I pull another tissue from the box just to give my hands something to do.
“My life with Hunter is messy. We’re both very broken people, but we’re healing on our own, and we’re healing together.”
I stop speaking, assessing if there’s more I want or need to say, and Veronica fills the silence.
“I know he’s complicated, but I wouldn’t say you two are broken, necessarily. He told me…a lot of what he’s gone through. As a kid, you know?”
I startle, sitting up straighter. “What did he tell you?” I whisper, and Veronica’s face turns sad, empathetic.
“He told me a lot that lets me know that you and he are not so different at all.”
I stay silent at that admission.
“The bruises,” I begin, but she waves me off. “No, let me get this out.”
I take a deep breath.
“The bruises, what Hunter and I did that night…it freaked him out to see me hurt because he never wants to hurt me. I really am safe with him, Rons. But…I’m learning that I, um, I like that stuff.” My eyes flick to the tiled floor and I know I’m turning into a tomato with how hot my face feels.
“I see,” she says, amusement full in her voice. I look back at her, and at her expression, I suck my teeth. She gives me a broad smile, and I feel some of the tension leave my chest.
“Do you see?” I reply.
“Yep. Not only do you clearly have a breeding kink, but you’re into pain play too. But you know what? Who am I to judge? I won’t yuck your yum, babes.”
I bark out a laugh, and it feels so good when she joins me, the tension cracking into several pieces. As we sit on the bed together with tears streaming down our faces from laughter and the release of sadness, it feels like maybe what comes next won’t be so unmanageable after all.
“Can I talk now?” she says, wiping her eyes.
I nod at her and say, “Sure.”
She straightens and repositions herself more fully on the bed before huffing a sigh and kicking off her shoes to sit cross-legged on the mattress.
“You weren’t wrong to say that I’ve made you my life. I’ve…I’ve had some help to realize that I’ve been so overbearing and overprotective of you and why. And....”
She trails off.
“And?” I add.
Taking a deep breath, she continues, “And it’s because I felt like I was responsible for not saving you the first time with Adam.”
When she finishes her sentence, I stare at her with my mouth agape.
“Veronica, what the hell are you?—”
“Listen, just...just listen, okay?”
I snap my mouth closed.
“I have perspective on it now. I started replaying all the moments we had together and all the signs of abuse that were obviously there but that I missed.”
I suck in a breath. “Veronica, I didn’t tell anyone what was happening. I tried really hard to hide all the signs. It’s not your fault that you didn’t see them.”
“That’s the thing, Winter. I did see them. I didn’t fully get the picture at the time, but I saw that Adam was too close to you, and I didn’t intervene because?—”
She stands and wipes a hand over her lips as she walks to the open balcony doors. After a moment, she turns and faces me with such a guilty expression that I want to jump up from the bed too.
“I was jealous of you then,” she says finally.
My brows knit together. “What do you mean?”
She clears her throat and says, “I was jealous of the attention Adam was giving you, of the looks he’d give you when he thought no one was watching. You are so beautiful, Winter. You were so beautiful then too. When your parents died, you got even more attention, and I was nothing more than the ugly friend.”
I know my face must look alarmed and confused because that’s a hundred percent what I am.
“Ugly friend?”
Her sigh is short. “Yes. You were the light-skinned, naturally smart girl that everyone wanted to be around. You didn’t see it, but boys were drooling after you back then. It was effortless for them to be attracted to you. But with me? I was the athlete, the dark-skinned sidekick who was funny but not really that smart, and who was one of the guys. I wanted to be desired , Winter, even though I didn’t call it that back then, but no one was clocking for me at all, and here you had this older guy who I thought was hot lusting after you, and I couldn’t take it.”
I couldn’t be more shocked at this moment, at the confession. Veronica’s feelings that she’s revealing right now were nowhere on my radar back then, but then again, I couldn’t see anything outside my pain.
I’ve only now started to be able to do that, despite all my years of therapy and education.
“I don’t blame you, Rons. I don’t hold this against you at all. I love you,” I say because that’s all I can come up with: the truth.
“Once I knew what was happening, I felt like I’ve been a horrible person to you for thinking that way. What he did to you was about power, I know that. But at the time, I didn’t…I wasn’t able to see it that way. I think my way of atoning has been to keep you safe for as long as there’s breath in my body. Because I really do love you, Win, and I’m uninterested in doing life without you as my family.”
Right then, the baby decides to give me a swift kick in the ribs, so I take the signal and go to her, grabbing both of her hands in mine.
“Veronica,” I say with all seriousness. “Please don’t make me start singing The Cheetah Girls at you because we are sisters, and we stick together, okay?”
I start humming along to the main theme song from the first movie, and that causes Veronica to cackle before sobering and looking at me directly.
“Winter, I am sorry. You’ve already apologized too. And there’s so much more you don’t know—but nothing like me harboring secret jealousy as a child. Just…other stuff. I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.”
I nod along, agreeing with her.
“Well, except for what you and Brigham do in the bedroom because y’all are on some freakshit, and I really don’t need to be all up in that situation.”
She delivers the lines so simply that it takes me a moment to register them. When the words land, I let out a full-throttled laugh that’s so loud that Hunter peeks his head into the room to check on us.
“Everything’s fine, baby,” I say, pulling Veronica back on the bed. “Now have someone go get us some snacks. I have a lot to catch up on with my sister.”
Hunter tilts his head and exits the room with a content smile, and Veronica squeezes my hand.
When the latch catches, I say, “Now, don’t think I didn’t recognize Rio holding my niece, so bitch, you better spill the tea, and please tell me he’s fucking your brains out.”
Veronica’s mouth pops open in an O , and when I drop my head to look at her beneath my lashes, her face cracks into a guilty smile as she flushes.
“You so are! Girl, tell me everything!”
Veronica pulls in a breath with a wince.
“Well, let’s see….”
When we got on the plane, Hunter wanted to stay up and create a plan with Misha and the rest of the team, but I bullied him into lying down.
He zonked out as soon as his head hit the pillow. It’s been three days since everything went down on Isla Cara, and Hunter has been working non-stop with the rest of them. Most of their time has been dedicated to getting all the trafficking victims home, but another big part of his focus has gone to The Legion, The Architect, and what the fuck happens next.
“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s rude to stare?” Hunter speaks without opening his eyes, and I chuckle, lifting my hand to rest my head on my palm.
“It’s not my fault. No one told you to be so good-looking,” I reply. He lets out a long, put-out sigh.
“Yes, I guess this is my cross to bear, isn’t it.”
I laugh when he releases a puff of amusement. Slowly, he cracks one eye open and then the other. I settle back into the pillows, and we simply look at each other.
“What were you thinking about, Sunbeam?” he says with a yawn. It’s very early for us, five am East Coast time, and we’ve been in the air for two hours at this point. But where he’s understandably tired, I’m wired for some reason.
Second trimester energy surge, for the win.
“I was thinking about two things,” I begin. “One, we need to gut this entire room. It reeks of cheap sex with rachet women.” I give him a significant look, and he has the good sense to look chagrined.
“You got it, baby,” he says, wisely choosing not to pick apart my statement.
“And two, I was thinking that I don’t know what to make of Marcus Law,” I say. No one has heard from or seen Marcus since leaving the island. Hunter told me not to expect to see him around anytime soon, if ever, but he’s stuck in my mind. I’m trying very hard not to make it an obsession and to avoid perseverating, but….
“Some people are complicated. Law is a complicated man,” he says.
I raise my eyebrow. “So you’re Team Marcus? Despite all the shit he’s done?”
Hunter gives the approximation of a shrug. “And I killed his sister,” he says, his voice lacking all humor.
I slide down to get closer to him.
“You were trying to save her from a worse fate,” I tell him. He gives me a long slow blink.
“What makes you think that?” he says.
I smile. “Because I know my husband,” I say.
He blinks again, but this time, he smiles for a brief moment before it fades. “It was horrible what I did, but the alternative was even worse for her,” he says.
“It was mercy,” I reply.
He hums in response and we both go silent again, our palms touching as we trace each other’s fingers.
“We got lucky again, my love,” I whisper, burrowing into his side. “I’m so grateful we’re here.”
He breathes in, slow and deep. “You have no fucking idea how happy I am about that too, Sunbeam.”
When I look up at him, there’s such a serious look on his face that I can’t do anything but kiss him. The touch of our lips together is sweet, soft.
Unhurried, which feels especially poignant at this moment in time.
But like it usually is with us, what starts out sweet turns spicy, and I find myself with my hand down his soft, casual pants, and he has one of my tits in his hot palm.
A rapid knock on the door causes us to pull apart, breathing hard.
“Maybe if we ignore them, they’ll go away?” Hunter mumbles, but I snort in response when Misha’s voice booms through the door.
“You can fuck later. Get your asses out here. This is important.”
With an eye roll from me and a serious face of concentration from Hunter, we exit the back room and meet the rest of the passengers near the forward galley.
“What’s up?” I ask the crowd, and Misha, Luna, Leo, Ella, Jared, Rio, Veronica, and Summer all turn to look at me with varying expressions of excitement.
Or, at least, I hope it’s excitement.
Rio is the one who acknowledges my question, and he says, “Watch. It’ll be on any minute now.”
Habit forces me to prepare myself for the worst, so when the newscaster begins to speak, I find myself holding my breath.
“Addison, without a doubt, it’s the biggest scandal of this decade, I’m sure of it.” The male newscaster speaks with a grave look on his face.
The screen shifts, and a wan-looking Addison appears on the screen side-by-side with a familiar correspondent. “It truly is a travesty, Justin. For those of you tuning in, please be aware that the topic of tonight’s segment is shocking and may be disturbing to many viewers.”
She pauses for a beat.
“Earlier this morning, the network received an exclusive first announcement of the death of presidential hopeful Morris Winthrope. Mr.Winthrope’s untimely death is clearly shocking in its own right, but the reasons behind his departure from this world are downright horrifying.”
“That’s right, Addison. Earlier today, we received reports that Morris Winthrope, candidate for the president of the United States, died from a self-inflicted injury in a murder-suicide plot.”
I suck in a breath at the news, but the rest of the group is still as we all stare at the screen, transfixed.
“This is simply shocking news, but what’s even more stunning is the information coming to light about Mr.Winthrope. I recommend that you escort children from the area if you have them in the room with you.”
Addison pauses again, and the camera switches as she turns in her seat dramatically.
“We have exclusive, first-view access to a letter written by Morris Winthrope detailing the torrid affair and grooming he enacted on his daughter, Blair Winthrope. In the letter, he also admits to murdering Blair in a fit of jealous rage surrounding her engagement to Hunter Brigham. Additionally, we have learned from key sources that said engagement was broken off months ago, but to save Blair’s character, the Brigham camp chose not to announce the separation publicly.”
The male correspondent stares at the camera, nodding every few words as Addison speaks.
“These are truly appalling revelations, but that’s not the end of it. In the letter, Morris Winthrope admitted to orchestrating the Chevy Chase bombings as part of his revenge plan against Hunter Brigham. I have to tell you, Addison, I am not a psychological expert, but these seem like the words and actions of a madman.”
Addison nods. “This is a developing story, and as we get more news, you can be sure that you’ll hear the latest here first.”
“Addison, I will?—”
Misha turns off the television and spins in the captain’s chair to face Hunter.
“Max did good, right?” Luna says with pride in her voice.
I realize that I’ve been staring with my mouth open when I snap it shut. “Wait, Max planted all of that?”
Leo nods. “Yep. And with no one around to refute it…” He lifts his hands, shrugging. “We get to control the narrative.”
Giddiness swells in my chest. I sink into a chair, stunned.
This is…huge. By all measures, Hunter’s name is clear. Sure, there are still some loose ends to tie up, but the big stuff?
We’re controlling the narrative.
“What about The Architect?” Hunter says, looking at Misha and Luna.
The two share a long look, but it’s Misha who speaks.
“We’re still looking for them. Many things are at risk right now with The Legion, but we’ve put the heat on them. With how things are positioned, they won’t be able to make a move right this second, but by the time this dies down, we’ll be close to catching The Architect and rounding them all up. We’ll go back to Isla Cara and search the island. There’s something there that will lead us to The Architect. I just know it.”
Misha’s face is serious, intense.
Luna nods along with everything he says.
I inhale, holding my breath to the count of three before releasing it.
This is good.
This is…great.
We can live, even if it’s just for now.
“Go rest, Winter. You too, Hunter,” Luna says, her voice soft. “There will be more to do tomorrow, but for now, be at peace.”
Rest. Peace. We can have that now.
“I think we’ll do that,” Hunter says, his voice thick. I rise from my chair, and together, he and I move toward the back. I pause, turning on my heel to take in the group of people…my family.
“Thank you. Thank you, all,” I say, but I turn to follow Hunter again before any of them can reply.
I slide the door closed and put my back to it. Hunter is silent as he leans over the bed with his hands flat on the mattress.
I watch as he thinks through the bomb just dropped on us.
“We’re free, baby,” I whisper, the words muted but still audible over the hum of the engines.
The baby chooses that moment to kick me, and I want to believe it’s their silent agreement.
Rubbing my belly, I take a step toward Hunter. When I press into his side, he straightens and in a fierce move, grabs my face, cradling a cheek in each palm.
“We’re free,” he says, and the only way to describe his voice is “awed.”
He looks lost and disbelieving and…happy. Carefree.
For once.
I put his hand over my stomach where our baby is doing somersaults.
“And we’re gonna live every day to the goddamn fullest,” I reply.
He leans forward then, not removing his hand from where our child dances, and kisses me again—just a simple press of his lips to mine.
And as we breathe each other in, I allow myself to feel an emotion that’s been firmly set aside for so many months.
I feel hope.
“Let’s rest, Sunbeam,” he says, breathing against my lips.
I don’t acknowledge his request with words. Instead, I crawl into bed with my husband and fall into a deep sleep all the way back to the States.