39. Winter

I went backto the hospital the next day after my morning classes. Last night had been a balm to the soul. We'd ended up eating and sitting around together until the small hours of the morning. Today, I felt different. Changed by the experience. My childhood home had never been full of laughter and companionship, so it had already become a precious memory.

But like a cruel reminder from the universe not to trust, my peace of mind didn't last long.

When I pushed open the door to my father's room, I froze on the threshold. Trent was there, sitting next to Dad, who was still sleeping. It felt vaguely threatening for Trent to be alone with him in a room.

I walked in. "What are you doing here? You weren't invited."

"It's visiting hours. I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"Where's my mom?"

Trent just shrugged. "I didn't come here to see her or your old man."

I folded my arms over my chest. I felt hyperaware of Asher's ring on my finger. It felt like my own personal security system.

"I'm here to see you," Trent said with a shit-eating grin.

"I don't have time today to waste standing around listening to your amateur fanfic about our nonexistent relationship. Get to the point."

"Right. I forgot. You have a boyfriend, don't you? Well, for now." Trent pulled a folder from under his arm. "I heard my dad spoke to you about us and the future plans our fathers had for our families. You can thank your Aunt Ruth for offing herself if you want someone to blame, because now the duty falls on you."

I snorted disbelievingly at his audacity and delusion.

"Didn't your dad tell you I don't give a fuck about any of that? Money isn't the most important thing in the world, and my family will be just fine. I'm not doing anything with you."

"Aren't you? That's very brave of you, Winter. But then, it's easy to be brave with your own future…but how about with someone else's?"

"What?" I blustered, but the show of confidence was just a thin fa?ade. I'd known since Asher's accident on his bike that it would come to this. I'd been living and loving Asher on borrowed time.

Trent sighed, like it was a chore to interact with me. "Let's cut to the chase. I don't expect you to love me, I don't even care if you like me. I don't like you, either…but I will have you. Uniting the DeLaurie and Fitzgerald names is my father's dream, and I'm going to make it come true for him. If I wasn't sure before, then how much fight you've put up would have convinced me. I hate being told I can't have something." He put the folder on the bedside table and leaned forward, bracing an elbow on it. "You should have just fucked my brains out when I first hit on you. I'd be bored of you by now…But instead, you piqued my interest…and my dad got involved. You made this happen, Winter, just remember. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"You don't like me, Trent. We can't stand each other. After you got whatever you wanted from me, you'd get bored and want to be free?—"

"You think I can't be free, even if I'm with you?"

"I'd sooner die than touch you?—,"

"Then maybe you'll die, but not before you attend the funerals of your nearest and dearest. I think I'll start with Selena. She's already so damaged."

I flew across the distance between us and landed a good slap on his clammy cheek before he forcefully wrenched my hand away.

He grabbed my wrist and squeezed so hard the blood felt like it was cut off completely. I gasped, my hand throbbing, needing circulation. He laughed at the sight of the ring on my finger.

"Don't tell me you thought that the fling with Martino was going somewhere? Don't tell me you actually like the guy…You're making this too easy."

He released my wrist, and I staggered back.

Trent tapped the folder. "You actually like him, so I'm guessing you wouldn't want anything to happen to him?" He opened the folder. Shots of Asher were inside. Asher outside The Clutch, the biker bar, getting onto his bike.

"Why do you have these?" I asked numbly.

"Because my dad doesn't get you, Winter. He doesn't understand how to control that pretty little head…but that's okay. I do."

"Why do you have these pictures?" I asked again, my voice rising.

Trent tilted his head. "Why, to demonstrate the dangers of motorcycle riding. It really is a very dangerous way to get around." He stared down at the pictures. "Can you even imagine that handsome face covered in road rash?"

I stared silently at the photos. I knew exactly what they were. A threat.

"The wrong kind of injury, and his hockey career would be over before it even began…A badly broken ankle or leg, and it's goodbye NHL."

A tear slipped from my eye. My heart felt like it was ripping in two. I knew exactly what Trent was doing. He was threatening Asher, and there was nothing I could do about it. He'd already demonstrated how easy it was to get to him.

"Getting a career-ending injury isn't the only possibility of colliding with something big and damaging…Let's say a truck, yeah, that's good. There are scenarios where he'd be lucky to limp away with a broken leg. He could die."

I stared down at the picture until the lines blurred, tears making it impossible to see. Numbness had been spreading in my chest, reclaiming all the ground that I'd just thawed out with the help of Asher and his friends and family. I felt it creeping over my heart. I'd known it would come to this. I'd felt the foreboding in my soul. After I finally had something to lose, it would be ripped away.

"Well? You're awfully quiet, Winter. Are you worried about your boyfriend? Don't you want him to live a happy, long life, doing what he loves?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked up at the monster leaning toward me. "What do you want?" I could feel the ice rising up inside me, forming crystals around my heart.

It was always going to end in tears, really. Of course, when I found someone who saw through my bullshit and actually cared enough to stick around, I'd lose them somehow. It was my destiny to be alone.

"What do you think? Stop avoiding me. Stop saying no to me…and break up with Martino and never see him again. If you care about him at all, it's the least you can do."

"And if I do? You'll leave him alone? You and your fucked up connections will steer clear of him?"

"I'll consider it," Trent said, a cruel smile playing around his lips.

"No. You have to promise. He's off-limits," I heard myself say. If I had to sacrifice my newfound happiness to make sure Asher was safe, there wasn't even a choice to be made.

Trent considered and then nodded. "Make the breakup really fucking hurt, and we have a deal."

"You're sick," I snapped at him.

Trent just shrugged. "The heart wants what it wants. Do we have a deal?"

"Why should I believe you?"

"You want to test me? Okay, sure. Should I start with his legs, or maybe a head injury? Those are always fun."

"Stop it," I ground out, the very idea of Asher being hurt making me feel sick.

"If you're thinking about telling him everything and letting the tough guy and his friends try and handle it, consider what else I might have on the people you love." He flipped a page in the folder. A clear CCTV image met my eyes. Selena. Strapped to a bed. Three guys stood to the side in the picture.

He turned another page. "How about this?"

Eve in her ice dancing uniform, walking on campus.

Melly Martino at the market, smiling at a man handing her a bulging bag of produce.

My mother, walking into The Dunes, the thick binder with her charity activity notes under her arm.

My dad being loaded into an ambulance from afar.

A tear fell from my eye and dropped onto the last image.

"Tell Martino about any of this, and I go down the list, or maybe I'll randomly shuffle and see who gets to be hurt first. What do you think? What's your happiness worth, Winter? How much suffering does your happiness justify?"

"We have a deal," I heard myself say. I pushed the folder away. "I'll do what you want, just stop."

Trent grinned and grabbed the folder. "If you go back on your word, or make trouble, the deal's off, and Martino is fair game, as are your mother and friend. Pleasure doing business with you. There's that fundraiser for the sports department tomorrow night. I'll pick you up at seven. Make sure it's done by then."

Then he walked away and left me bleeding.

I gasped down air. I felt dizzy. I felt like I was going to throw up. This wasn't about money anymore. I could have bluffed my way out of my dad's company being threatened, because we could live well with much less than we had. But Asher and his future? That was something I couldn't gamble with. Never mind the innocent bystanders in our lives. No, I couldn't risk any of them.

I sank to the floor, staring at the wall. The feeling of inevitability crashed over me. It was always going to end up this way, since Duncan had given me the bracelet of a dead woman and decided I would take her place.

I clutched my left hand, where Asher's ring sat. I cradled it to my chest, hugging it tight, and sobbed my fucking heart out.

I stayed at hospital all day, numb. Cold had crept through my veins. Now, after hours of staring out at the fading sun dipping behind the skyline of the town, ice encrusted my heart. Asher had called me a few times, but I didn't have the strength to answer. I couldn't hear his voice and pretend I was okay when I had to end things with him. I was set on a path that had little to do with me and everything to do with the past and forces out of my control. I wasn't going to end up with Trent. There was no fucking way. But I had to play along for now. In this game, timing would be everything.

Asher wouldn't be the one to answer for how fucked up my family history was. That was my job. My responsibility. I was gazing out of the window as night fell when a motorcycle turned off the road and pulled into the hospital parking lot.

He was here.

I made my way downstairs, hands clenched in fists so hard my nails cut into my palms. I didn't care. It should hurt. I wanted it to hurt.

He had just gotten off his bike when I reached him.

He shook his head after he took off his helmet, sending his dark waves scattering across his forehead. I could have looked at him all day.

"I'd have come up to you, Ice Queen. It's damn cold out still," he chastised me, reaching for me and drawing me into an embrace. Physical touch came naturally to him. He held my hands in his and blew on them.

"How are you so cold? Weren't you inside? Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry," I managed to get out. My lungs felt like they had been punctured and were slowly drying out, precious droplets of life puddling on the ground beneath us.

"In fact, I think you should leave," I forced out.

Asher raised an eyebrow at me, taking my hands and guiding them inside his jacket. I shivered at the warmth. "Why's that? Should I take you home?"

I shook my head. Fuck. I had to get this over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

"No. You can't take me home. You can't take me home ever again. This game between us…I think it's run its course."

Asher stared at me, stilling as my words sank through him.

"I just mean, there's no point now, right? My dad isn't even awake. It's a good time to break it off. By the time he's recovered, I'll just tell him we broke up and that's that."

Asher's eyes narrowed on my face. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

I swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. I couldn't meet those steadfast dark eyes. I couldn't tell Asher the truth. He was so overprotective; he'd never take Trent threatening him lying down. And then what? He'd get hurt, or in trouble for hurting Trent. I already knew the kind of influence the Fitzgeralds had in Hade Harbor.

No, this was the only way. The only person who'd really be hurt by this was me, and that was only right. Asher would get over it, much faster than I would. He'd have his full life of hockey and friends and family, a line of girls waiting to replace me. I'd be alone, just missing him every single day.

That was okay, though. It was only fair.

I sighed, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm just over this. The pretense, the game. It's exhausting. Let's call it a day now, while we're ahead."

"Winter, look me in the fucking eyes," Asher demanded.

Damn it.He was going to make this even harder than it had to be. Of course he was.

"What?" I managed to glance up at him. I closed my eyes, unable to look at him for long, tears already forming behind my eyelids. "Did I stutter? I think I was pretty clear."

Anger clouded Asher's features, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing right now, but it's not funny."

I tossed my hair, wishing I had half my previous confidence when dealing with this man, and shrugged. "I'm not joking, and I'm not playing a game. I'm over it. Let's start the final stage of our agreement. I held up my part. You found your dad. We had the dinner, and I managed to hold off my fucking destiny a little longer. We're all good. Let's go our separate ways." I folded my arms over my chest.

Asher was staring at me like he wanted to strangle me. I thought he was about to warn me of that intention when he spoke in a hard tone. "You're over it? Then why are you fucking crying?"

I swallowed hard and willed the weakness from my face. "Am I? Just tired, I guess. So, anyway, there's no reason for you to come here again, so I'll just see you around campus."

"Winter. Talk to me. What's going on?" Asher's voice was so deep and concerned, it only made those tears press closer to the surface.

"Nothing. I told you." I blinked madly, trying to force back the tears threatening to fall. I spied a taxi turning into the pickup zone and waved at it. "I've got to run. Thanks for everything, really. You were great. It was fun."

I made for the waiting cab. If I could just get away from Asher, I could fall apart the rest of the night, I promised myself. I just had to get away.

"Winter!" Asher called as I practically sprinted toward the cab.

I got the door open before his hand landed on it and pushed it closed.

"You're starting to piss me off. Tell me what's going on," he demanded, angry now. He loomed over me.

"Nothing, I told you. Why is that so hard to understand? We had an agreement, and now it's done." I tapped him on the chest. "Congratulations. You're free and single again."

"I don't want to be free and single, I want my fucking girlfriend to look me in the eye and tell me what's really going on."

I nearly whimpered when he took my chin and tilted it up, so my eyes had no choice but to meet his. He wasn't going to accept this. He was going to keep pushing me for the truth. And in return, Trent was going to have something done to him. I had to cut ties; it was the only way.

"Girlfriend? You really think I could date someone like you seriously? We aren't the same, Asher…you know that better than anyone."

He flinched as if I'd struck him. I knew how he felt. I'd just driven a knife into my own heart. He stared at me a moment longer, something dark and dangerous burning in his eyes.

"Be a bitch all you want…but I don't believe you. Something's going on, and you're going to tell me what it is."

"For fuck's sake," I snapped, the tears burning so fiercely I knew I was running out of time before they fell. I was on the cusp of losing it. "Don't be so dramatic. We hung out, played with each other, made a stupid childish deal…and now it's over. Move on," I snapped again, my voice gravelly with unshed tears. I broke away from his touch and got into the cab, shutting the door quickly.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked me.

I gave him my home address while Asher stood outside the window, staring at the glass. He couldn't see in, I was sure of it, the windows were pretty tinted. The first tear fell as soon as we pulled out. It was quickly followed by another, and then a boatload more. I sobbed into my hands, uncaring what the driver thought of me, losing my mind in the back of the taxi. I didn't care.

We drove slowly through the quiet nighttime streets of Hade Harbor, until a low whine filled the air.

The driver tutted. "These damn motorcyclists drive so damn dangerously."

I looked out the window and let out an agonized sob. Asher was driving his motorcycle beside the taxi, keeping pace with me. He got closer, and after a moment, pressed his hand to my window. My heart broke into a million pieces. He didn't believe me. He knew something was up. He wouldn't be easy to fool.

He held his hand there, a silent show of unwavering support that I hadn't realized how much I needed. But I wasn't his to support anymore.

I'd lost him.

Knowing he couldn't see me through the tinted window, I brought my hand up and pressed it against his through the glass. After a few seconds, he dropped back, the road narrowing too much to keep contact. I kept my hand against the glass, savoring the last touch of the man I'd fallen so irrevocably in love with.