Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
SLOAN
The snowball hits Asher square in the chest, exploding in a shower of white powder that clings to his dark jacket. His look of outrage is so exaggerated that I burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the trees surrounding our little clearing.
"Oh, you think that's funny?" he says, bending down to scoop up his own ammunition. "We’ll see how funny you think this is."
I shriek and duck behind a pine tree just as his snowball whizzes past my head. The bark is rough against my palms as I press my back to the trunk, trying to catch my breath between giggles.
It's been two weeks since New Year's Eve. Two weeks since I kissed him and felt a shift between us. Two weeks of mornings that start with coffee brought to bed and evenings that end by the fireplace.
Two weeks of normalcy when I know it shouldn’t feel like that.
But right now, with snow melting on my cheeks and laughter bubbling up from deep in my chest, I can't bring myself to care.
"I know you're back there," Asher calls out, his voice full of mischief. "You can't hide forever."
"Watch me," I call back, already packing another snowball. The snow is perfect for this—wet enough to hold together but light enough not to sting when it hits. "I've got all day."
"So do I, sweet doe. So do I."
The pet name sends a flutter through my chest.
God, I'm so fucked up.
I peek around the tree trunk, looking for an opening, and spot him crouched behind a fallen log about twenty feet away. His dark hair is dusted with snow, and there's color in his cheeks from the cold air. He looks younger like this, playful enough to forget what he’s done.
I push the thought away. Not today. Today I'm allowed to just be here, in this moment, playing in the snow with a man who looks at me like I hung the moon.
I dart out from behind the tree, launching my snowball in his direction before diving for cover behind a boulder. I hear his curse of surprise, followed by his laughter, and know I hit my target.
"Nice shot," he admits. "But you're going to pay for that."
"You'll have to catch me first!"
I take off running through the snow, my boots sinking with each step but my legs carrying me forward with giddy momentum. Behind me, I can hear him, his longer strides eating up the distance between us.
The clearing opens up ahead, a flat expanse of pristine white surrounded by towering evergreens. It's beautiful here, like something from a fairy tale. The kind of place where anything seems possible.
A snowball catches me between the shoulder blades, and I stumble forward with a yelp.
"Got you," Asher shouts, triumphant.
I spin around to face him, already packing another snowball. "Lucky shot."
"Skill," he corrects, advancing on me with a predatory look on his face. "Years of practice."
"Practice? Were you some kind of snow warrior as a child?"
The question is meant to be teasing, but something shifts in his expression. The playfulness dims.
"Something like that," he says quietly.
I want to ask more, but before I can form the words, he's launching himself at me with a playful growl.
We go down in a tangle of laughter, rolling in the snow until I'm breathless and dizzy. When we finally come to a stop, I'm pinned beneath him, his hands braced on either side of my head, his eyes bright and happy.
"Do you surrender?" he asks, his voice low and rough as his eyes roam my face.
"Never," I breathe, grinning from ear to ear.
"No?" His head dips lower, until his breath warms my lips. "What if I make it worth your while?"
Before I can ask what he means, his mouth is on mine, claiming me.
Snow melts against my back where it's soaking through my jacket, but I barely notice the cold. All I can focus on is the heat of his mouth and the sound he makes when I part my lips to let him in deeper.
This is insane. We're lying in the snow in below-freezing temperatures, making out like teenagers, and all I can think about is how right this feels. How fucking perfect it feels.
He pulls back and we're both breathing hard.
"Surrender now?" he asks, and I know the question goes beyond this silly game.
"I..." The word catches in my throat as I look up at him, the man who I'm terrified I might actually be falling in love with.
That's when we hear it.
The distant thrum of helicopter rotors, growing closer.
Asher's entire body goes rigid above me, his head snapping up to scan the sky. I can see the exact moment he spots them—two black helicopters cresting the ridge to our east, moving in our direction.
"Fuck," he breathes, rolling off me and pulling me to my feet in one smooth motion. "We need to get inside. Now."
But I'm frozen, staring up at those helicopters with a mixture of terror and something that might be... disappointment? Because in my gut, I know they’re looking for me.
But why does the sight of them fill me with dread instead of relief?
"Sloan." Asher's hands grip my shoulders, turning me to face him. "Listen to me. Those helicopters are part of a search party. They're looking for you."
"I know." My voice sounds strange, distant.
"Do you understand what that means?"
I do understand. It means people realize I'm missing. It means they're looking for me, probably have been looking since I didn't come home from what was supposed to be a romantic Christmas getaway.
It means they can rescue me. Take me away from this monster of a man.
It also means this is about to end.
"They can't find us here," he continues, his voice urgent. "If they do, everything changes. Everything we are will disappear."
Everything we are. Like this is a relationship instead of a kidnapping.
But God help me, it feels real. Standing here in the snow with search helicopters circling overhead, all I can think about is how much I don't want this to end.
How much I don't want to go back to a world where no one looks at me the way Asher does, where no one pays attention to my needs the way he does, where no one makes me feel as alive as he makes me feel.
"Sloan." His voice is softer now, almost pleading. "Talk to me. What are you thinking? We have to go."
What am I thinking? I'm thinking that two weeks ago I would have been jumping up and down, screaming at the top of my lungs, doing everything possible to attract their attention.
"They wouldn't understand," I hear myself say, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "If they found us, if they took me back...." My voice trails into nothing. I have no words.
The outside world would see a kidnapper and his victim, not... whatever we're becoming. They'd see Stockholm syndrome and trauma bonding and psychological abuse, not the way he makes me laugh or the way he listens when I talk or the way he holds me at night.
They'd want to fix me, to therapy me back to normal, to help me understand that what I'm feeling isn't real.
But it is real. The way my heart races when he looks at me is real. The way I feel safe in his arms is real. The way I've started to think of this cabin as home instead of prison is real.
Fucked up, maybe. Psychologically complex, definitely. But real nonetheless.
"What do we do?" I ask, though I think I already know.
"We disappear. Really disappear this time." His eyes are intense, burning with conviction. "I was thinking Alaska or Canada. I’ve spent time at a cabin in Alaska. It’s remote. Completely off the grid. We could go there, start fresh, build from the ground up."
Alaska. Canada. I remember seeing that in his journals, the three-phase plan that started with Alex's murder and ends with my complete disappearance from civilization. Phase Three, executed because Phase Two was successful beyond his wildest dreams.
The helicopters are close enough now that I can see figures moving inside them, scanning the forest below.
And suddenly, desperately, I don't want to be found.
"We should go inside," I say, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice. "Before they see us."
Relief floods his features and his shoulders relax slightly.
I'm also not ready for this to end.
He doesn't need more than that. His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining as he starts leading me back toward the cabin at a pace just short of running. Behind us, the search helicopters continue their sweep of the forest, looking for a woman who doesn’t want to be found.