Chapter 12
Freya
Itried for the tenth time to wiggle free of Jed’s tight embrace, and failed again. He just stretched, yawned in his sleep, and tightened his grip.
I had to call Holly today. Just had to. It was her ninth birthday, and no one was there to celebrate with her but Ethan’s staff.
They loved her to distraction, and could be counted upon to make a birthday fuss, but even so.
Poor Holly already suffered a huge blow when Shane, her dad, had disappeared.
We were the only family she had left, and she needed her Uncle Ethan and me to be there for her in person in order to feel safe and whole and properly celebrated. It sucked that I wasn’t there today.
Plus, I was pissed at Ethan for skiving off on his own mysterious business without sharing it with me, or thinking of Holly’s birthday.
He adored his little niece, but he left the organizational parenting tasks to me.
Things like parent-teacher conferences, medical appointments, vaccinations, music and dance instruction, or planning for a birthday party.
Those kinds of things just never occurred to him.
I needed to get my coat on, slip outside, reassemble my Freya Masters phone, call Holly, then swiftly break the phone down and hide it all again. The ideal thing would be to get back inside and in character as Sandee before Jed even woke up.
Ambitious, risky, but a girl could try. In fact, a girl had to try.
I tried again, pulling harder. This time, Jed stirred, murmuring in protest. “What the fuck?” he mumbled. “Stop wiggling.”
“Let me get up,” I insisted. “I have to pee.”
He made an impatient sound, but shifted his weight so I could extricate myself.
My clothes were scattered around, so I scooped them up and brought them into the bathroom with me.
I’d slept surprisingly well, considering everything.
Maybe it was all those multiple orgasms. No matter how emotionally fraught and complicated the sex, I had never even imagined pleasure like that.
I’d thought that what happened last night would make me feel bad about myself. Soiled. But it didn’t.
It made me feel…hot. Again.
I’m not sure what that said about me, but screw it. I had stuff to do. I could worry about the sorry state of my psychological health later.
I took care of my business in the bathroom, then pulled on my clothes, wishing I had warmer, better ones.
My BBBag with my toothbrush was in the other room, so I tried to brush my teeth with a glob of toothpaste and my finger.
I had bedhead from hell, so I tried to calm it down with water and a grimy comb from the bathroom cabinet.
No success. The hair just had its own unfathomable agenda.
When I crept out of the bathroom, it looked as if Jed had fallen asleep again.
Yay, my golden opportunity. I tiptoed to my boots, and silently shoved my feet into them.
Wishing I had underwear under my kinky schoolgirl skirt, but my skimpy thong was nowhere to be seen, and hell, it barely qualified as underwear in the best of times.
I didn’t bother buckling my ankle boots. As insubstantial as they were, I might just as well be barefoot. I grabbed my coat, but didn’t put it on yet, since the shiny, quilted nylon was too noisy. It puffed and chuffed with every movement I made.
I crept into the mudroom out front, and very gently opened the many locks and bolts on the door. Tiptoed out, closing it softly as I could. So far, so good.
Whoa, that ice-cold breeze on my bare nether bits under that scanty skirt was quite the sensation. And my shoes were a freaking nightmare for this deep snow. I swiftly pulled on the coat, shivering. I had to make this quick, or else lose some toes.
The storm had stopped, and everything was smooth, white, hushed.
The old cabin was battered but sound-looking, perched not far from the edge of a deep, narrow canyon.
The snow was still dry, and the wind had been blowing all night, so it had blown most of the snow off a rocky spine of the hillside near the cliff’s edge.
It was a very beautiful place. Too bad I didn’t have the time or bandwidth to enjoy it.
I made my way as quickly as I could, putting my feet only where the snow wasn’t, trying not to let the heels catch on the rocks and the roots, making for the nearest trees that could offer me a little cover as I fumbled at the hem, pulling my phone out and snapping in the battery.
My fingers were already numb, making it difficult.
I kept the phone carefully on the side of me that couldn’t be seen from the house.
If Jed looked through this phone, the jig would be up.
I probably shouldn’t have brought it at all, and just committed to being Sandee for the interim.
That would have been the smartest thing.
But who would’ve dreamed Jed would break out of prison on the very day I visited?
And right after I’d just offered him the moon and stars, sexually speaking.
Which I pretty much delivered last night.
It was silly, I knew it, but I just couldn’t let Holly’s birthday go by without calling her. I was such a sap. I crouched, leaning against a big rock that gave me some cover, both visually from the house and from the wind that swept through the canyon.
I pulled up Holly’s number and called. She picked right up. “Auntie Frey?”
“Happy ninth birthday, baby,” I said softly. “I can’t believe you’re so big!”
“I knew you’d call!” Holly crowed. “So where are you? Are you coming home? I hear the wind! Are you in a car with the window open? Are you on your way home?”
I couldn’t help smiling. That’s my girl.
Only nine, but just too damn smart for her own good, and curious as hell.
“I wish I was,” I told her. “But I’m still pretty far away.
Too far to make it back today. I just wanted to wish you a totally fabulous day.
I have some birthday presents for you, but they’ll have to wait until I get home. ”
Holly was silent for a moment. “Are you out looking for my dad?”
“Always, sweetie,” I said. “Every day of my life.”
Holly harrumphed. “Well, you be careful.” Her voice took on a lecturing tone. “Uncle Ethan is, too. He told me before he left. But he’s mad that you’re not here now. And he was really, really mad that your phone was off all the times he tried to call.”
I held back the snort of laughter with some effort. Hell, when was Ethan not mad at me? “Don’t worry about it,” I assured her. “It’s cool. I can handle Uncle Ethan.”
“He said he’d be home tonight to have some cake with me,” Holly said pointedly. “So you should really call us then.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to call tonight, sweetheart. I will try, I swear. Have a wonderful birthday, honey.”
“Sandee?” Jed’s furious voice, from the house. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Gotta go,” I said, in a hushed voice. “Later, babe.”
“Why are you whispering?” Holly’s voice sharpened. “I hear somebody yelling. Who’s that yelling? Are they yelling at you?”
“Tell you when I see you. Love you.” I pried the phone open. Shoved the phone and battery into my hidden hem pocket, zipping it up with clumsy, trembling fingers.
I stumbled out from behind the rocks, waving my arms. “Hi!” I waved at him. “Over here!”
“What in the holy fuck are you doing out here?” He looked terrifyingly angry.
I put on an innocently bewildered expression. “Um…nothing much? I just wanted a little air. And, you know, to look at the view.”
“The view? Yesterday a pack of fucking assassins tried to put a bag over your head! And today you waltz out into the open to make snow angels? The fuck, Sandee?”
“But nobody’s here, and I didn’t go far, just to—”
“Get inside!” he roared.
I stumbled through the snow as fast as I could manage in those boots, stamping it off once I got into the mudroom. “I’m sorry,” I told him again as he followed me in. “I didn’t go far at all. And I didn’t know you’d, like, freak out about it.”
Jed slammed the door, and slid the locks and bolts into place, his face grim.
I tried again. “I’m really sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just always stretch my legs in the morning, and I looked out the window, and it was so peaceful and pretty outside, so I thought—”
“Don’t think. It’s not safe. Just do what the fuck you’re told, if you want to survive. Never walk out of my sight again without telling me what you’re doing. Not while I’m responsible for you. Understand?”
I didn’t have a leg to stand on, and I knew it. And still, I felt my spine stiffen up as I stared him down. “I did not swear to obey your every command,” I said.
He looked at me thoughtfully, eyes narrowing.
I realized, with a sickening shock, that anger had made me slip.
That was Freya’s vocal cadence, not Sandee’s.
Freya’s clear alto voice, not the raspy, grinding vocal fry I’d learned from various female Instagram influencers, the voice I’d been practicing into my phone for months.
He had stung me into dropping my mask. Shit.
I shrugged off my coat and hung it on a chair, hoping to distract him with my nipple hard-on. He noticed it, but didn’t lose focus.
“Don’t fuck with me,” he said. “Maybe you will eventually get chopped up by these assholes, despite my best efforts, but it won’t be on my watch. So listen up. Do what I say, or you’ll be sorry. Are we clear?”
Be Sandee. Be her right now, idiot. I fought my knee-jerk pride and anger down, and forced myself to stay in character. Sulky. Pouting. Intimidated. Maybe even a little turned on. I let my lips tremble. “I’ll be good,” I said, in a small, cowed voice.
He picked up a duffel bag and flung it at me. “Take this stuff and go get changed.”
“Changed into what?” I opened the bag and rifled through the contents. Men’s winter clothing, heavy in texture, dull in color. “Is this your stuff? I’ll swim in it!”
“Not mine. It was meant for someone else. Bigger than you are, but smaller than me. You could cuff the pants, and I think there’s a belt in there. Just put them on and make them work somehow.”
“But why can’t I just—”
“Fucking do it!”