Snowman

17. SEVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN

brEE

We stepped out of the bedroom, and there they were, two little girls sitting by the table, their feet barely touching the floor. They looked like ghosts from our past, dressed just as we had been at their age. The smaller one, maybe five, had blonde curls that framed her face, and a black bow tied neatly on top of her head. The older one, about eight, sat with her back straight, her pale skin almost the same as the snow outside.

Joe sat between them, his chair creaking as he leaned forward, his eyes locking onto ours. He smiled, his lips stretching too wide.

Laura stood nearby, her red dress tight around her body, red lipstick smeared slightly at the corner of her lips. Her ponytail swayed as she shifted her weight, her arms crossed loosely. To an outsider, this might have looked like a picture-perfect family, but something was deeply, horribly wrong.

"Bree, how is your dinner?" Joe asked the older girl before turning his gaze toward me.

"It's very delicious, Daddy," she said sweetly.

He kissed the forehead of the younger girl and asked her, "And yours, Mel?"

She nodded, looking up at him. "Perfect, Daddy."

Mel's grip on my hand tightened as she started shaking. Joe's eyes bore into us, making the world feel warped and surreal. Then he stood up, taking both girls by the hand and guiding them upstairs toward the bedroom. As we watched them disappear, we moved closer to Laura.

"Mom, what is going on?" I asked, my voice trembling.

She tilted her head. "Who are you?"

"Mom, it's me, Bree!" I said, stepping closer and pointing toward Mel. "And that's Mel!"

Then she laughed, "My daughters are five and eight. You're too old to be my daughter."

Faint footsteps sounded behind us, and as I turned, Joe was already there, standing just a few feet away. He held a knife in his hand, the blade catching the light, making my stomach drop.

"I'll give you a choice," he said, his voice calm. "One of you will get out alive," he continued, his dark eyes flicking between us. "And one of you will be dinner."

Laura began clapping her hands, her face lighting up. "Dinner time!" she sang out.

"What the fuck?" I stammered, stepping back with Mel.

Joe ignored me and turned his focus to Mel.

"Imagine," he said softly, "no more touching, no more late-night baths, no more pleasing anyone." His voice was hypnotic, his tone almost convincing. "All it takes is one little decision," he added, his eyes darker than before.

Mel took a step forward, hesitant. She turned to me, her face soaked with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Bree," she whispered, her voice cracking as she reached for the knife in his outstretched hand.

"No, Mel!" I screamed, the sound ripping from my chest. "We can't do this!"

Tears streamed down her face as she gripped the knife tightly, "I'm so sorry," she repeated.

I stumbled backward, nearly tripping with every shaky step I took. But she kept moving toward me, her eyes distant but focused, a knife gripped so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white.

My chest tightened, and I could barely breathe. Those twenty minutes Thor promised felt like forever. It felt like there was no way out of this nightmare.

"Mel, please," I begged, pressing my hands together like I was praying. My voice cracked, trembling just like my legs. "This isn't you. You don't have to do this!"

"Kill her already," Laura's sharp voice cut through the air. She leaned against the doorway like she had all the time in the world, her face curled into a smirk. "I've waited years for this."

"You're sick!" I screamed at her, anger mixing with fear, my voice shaking. "You're both sick!"

Laura shrugged, unbothered.

"We tried to do this the night you two fell down the stairs," she said, so casually, like we held no meaning to her. "But you had to lose your memory. You see, fear makes it better. All that adrenaline... pumps the blood. Makes the taste richer."

"Go to hell!" I shouted, slamming my hands against the locked door. My fists stung, but I didn't stop. "Mel, please! Don't listen to her. Please!"

Mel's hands were trembling now, the knife shaking as she clutched it tighter. Her lips quivered, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine. "I'm sorry, Bree," she said, breaking. "I just… I can't do this anymore."

I couldn't let this happen. I refused to let this happen.

I had to run. Turning on my heel, I sprinted out of the living room and toward the bedroom. My feet slammed against the floor, the wooden boards creaking with each step. Behind me, I heard Mel chasing, her breaths sharp and uneven. My heart felt like it might escape, the pounding in my chest so loud it drowned everything else out.

I reached the bedroom and threw myself inside, slamming the door shut behind me. My hands fumbled with the lock, twisting it until I heard the soft click. My knees hit the floor beside the bed, and I reached for the phone on the nightstand. My fingers were shaking so badly I could barely press the buttons, but I pressed number one. Again and again.

Finally, his voice came through. "Bree, I'm almost there. Just hold on!"

"It might be too late," I whispered, tears choking my words. "Thor, I don't know if—"

"No," he cut me off. "I'll be there. Just hide, okay? Hide!"

Before I could answer, the door burst open. The lock shattered, and Laura stormed in, dragging Mel by her hair. My stomach twisted. The knife had fallen from Mel's hand and hit the floor with a dull clatter. Her face was red, streaked with tears, and she didn't even try to fight back.

I screamed, so loudly, the sound ripping out of me before I could stop it. It wasn't just fear, it was anger, grief, and desperation all at once.

"Bree!" Thor's voice crackled through the phone in my hand, but I couldn't respond. I dropped it onto the floor as Laura stepped closer.

"Your choice, Bree." She shoved Mel to her knees, gripping her hair tighter. "You or her."

I took a step closer to Mel, my eyes searching hers, and she looked so lost, so sad. She never truly lived, had never even known the world, and maybe, deep down, neither had I. But still, I wanted her to have that chance. I wanted her to know everything, to have everything. Even if it hurt me to admit that my promises had been nothing but lies.

I stepped again, my voice rising. "Come and get me!"

Mel's cry shattered me, "Bree, no!" she yelled, her voice breaking. She shoved Laura back, turning to me with tears in her eyes. "Run! The window... slide it to the side. Go!"

"No!" I shouted back, the words cutting out of me. "You're coming with me!"

She shook her head, her jaw tight, her hands trembling as she held Laura off. "This time… it's my turn to protect you."

And then it happened. Laura twisted in her grip, the blade flashing. And it happened too fast, too brutal, and the knife sliced across Mel's neck. And in the room, the only sound was the gurgling noise of Mel drowning in her own blood.

She was gone. Mel was gone.

"Enough!" Laura screamed.

"Mel!" I staggered forward, my body screaming to go to her, but my legs refused to move. Her blood was everywhere, staining the floor, her hands, my heart. She had given herself for me. For me.

I had no choice. I forced my legs to move, spinning toward the window. My hands fumbled, the cold air rushing in as I slid it open. I climbed through, my chest heaving, my vision blurred by tears.

"No!" Laura tried to catch my hand, "Nooo!"

I didn't stop. My feet hit the frozen ground, and I ran. The sharp wind sliced my face, and the snow crunched beneath my boots, but all I could hear was my heartbeat, hammering like it wanted to tear itself free from my chest.

Behind me, footsteps. Fast. Closing in.

I pushed harder, my legs burning, my lungs raw from the icy air. My body begged me to stop, but I couldn't. Not now. Not after what Mel had done. Every step forward felt like it carried her with me, like stopping would mean leaving her behind. I wouldn't do that. I couldn't.

The footsteps were right behind me now. I felt a hand grab the back of my shirt, jerking me back. My body snapped backward, slamming into a firm chest.

I didn't think—I just fought. My arm swung out on instinct, my hand connecting with a face. The blow made us both stumble, my feet catching on the snow. I tripped, pulling him down with me, and we hit the ground hard, the icy cold biting into my skin.

Then his hands were on my face. Firm. His voice cut through my panic, "Bree."

My eyes shot open. For a moment, all I saw was his face, his eyes, but one was icy blue, the other chestnut brown. I froze, everything else was just falling away.

"Thor?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "You…" My throat tightened, the words tangling together. "How?"

My hand lifted before I could stop it, brushing against his temple. My breath caught as I stared into his mismatched eyes. "Your eyes… they're blue," I murmured, my voice trembling, barely more than a breath.

"No," he said nervously, lifting himself off me. His voice was thin, uncertain. "They're not," he added, looking away. "They're brown."

I stood up, steadying myself, my gaze fixed on him. He tilted his face, trying to avoid my eyes.

"No," I said, pressing my palm against his cheek. I turned his face toward me, not letting him escape. "Don't call me crazy, Thor. I know what I saw."

He just stared at me, silent. His lips didn't move, not even to protest.

"You're him, aren't you?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," he muttered, pushing my hand off his face. But the way he said it… It didn't sound convincing.

"You're Snowman," I said. "But how? How is that even possible?" Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over before I could stop them.

"Fuck, Bree," he said, exhaling sharply, his hand dragging through his hair. "Maybe you just want me to be."

"Look at me," I begged, my voice shaking. He tilted his head slightly but didn't meet my eyes. "Look at me!" I shouted, the desperation clawing at my chest.

"No," he whispered, so quiet it was almost like he didn't say it at all. He turned his back to me, his shoulders stifled.

"You stalked me," I said, stepping closer. My voice was tight, trembling with anger. "Then you came into my home, pretending to be a cop. You gave me that phone, but why? Why?" My voice cracked. "So you could track me? Is that it?"

"No," he said again, still not turning around. His tone was flat, his back refusing to give me anything.

"I trusted you," I said, choking on the words. Tears blurred my vision. "I still do," I added, my voice dropping to a whisper.

His head moved slowly to the side. "What do you want from me?" he said with a low growl. "I can't give you much."

My chest tightened, the pain twisting deeper.

"A hug."

My hand hovered above his back before I pressed my palm lightly against his coat. My fingers trembled as they curled into it.

"A hug?" He finally turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he scanned me. "That's what you want?"

"Please," I said, meeting his eyes, tears still sliding down my cheeks.

His jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a firm line. Then, without a word, his hand reached for my arm. He pulled me to him, our chests colliding. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in as though I belonged there. His head rested against mine, his breath warm against my hair.

And I broke. My sobs came in waves, uncontrollable. I buried my face in his chest, my tears soaking into his coat. I cried like I hadn't cried in years, each sound ripping out of me as if it could tear the pain away. And with each sob, his arms tightened, holding me closer, grounding me.

It was everything I didn't know I needed, just a hug that made the world disappear. One that let me fall apart completely without fear. I'd never had this before. My first kiss was stolen, my innocence taken. I had never been given something so simple. But now, this hug was his, ours . And I could've stayed there forever.

He might be a monster. He might be made of ice. But right now, he felt more real than anything else.

The tears kept falling, and with them, pieces of my heart. Everything I had lost, today, yesterday, Mel, it all came rushing in, crushing me.

Slowly, he eased his grip, pulling back just enough to see my face. His fingers brushed my cheeks, wiping away the tears as his eyes met mine.

And then I saw them.

They weren't brown anymore.

They were ice blue.

His eyes. Blue.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My stomach twisted, and I felt my knees weaken beneath me. How had I not noticed? How had I missed this?

He pushed me back slightly, just enough to see my face. His hands brushed my cheeks, wiping away the tears, his touch steady despite the storm in his eyes. I met his eyes, those eyes. They were ice now, sharp and cold. He must have taken out his contacts. I hadn't even noticed. I felt stupid for missing it. The icy blue of them crushed with the ocean blue of mine, like it was meant to be.

My heart pounded in my chest, too fast, too loud. I felt it in my throat, my stomach flipping in knots. My arms trembled as I held onto him, his stare was almost too much. My lips parted, and I realized how close we were, close enough that I could feel the soft warmth of his breath against my mouth.

"You're my worst nightmare, Bree," he said.

His eyes didn't waver, as if searching for something in mine, even as he seemed to lose himself in them. "You're haunting me."

His lips brushed against mine as he leaned in, his whisper so warm. "But I wish I could be your dream."

I didn't wait. I pressed forward, my lips finding his. His mouth moved against mine, his tongue thrusting inside, making my knees weak. It wasn't just a kiss, it was everything, pulling me under his skin. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers twisting into his hair, holding him as tightly as I could. We kissed until we were both out of breath and even then, neither of us wanted to stop.

When I finally pulled away, gasping for air, I let my forehead rest against his shoulder.

"What now?" I whispered, afraid of the answer.

He tilted his head, his breath brushing my ear. "Now," he said, his voice deeper, growling, "now you're mine."

His.

The word settled over me, heavier and more real than it ever had before.

I was his.

Only his.