Snowbound with the Santas (Forbidden Fantasies)

36. Rayne

36

RAYNE

“ A shton.”

His face is twisted with malice, his eyes are dark, and the large bags underneath tell me he hasn’t slept at all. He looks unhinged, especially when the doors finally hiss closed behind him and he smiles.

“Now, Rayne. We have a proper chance to talk.”

A hard lump forms in my throat. My heart starts to race and a sickening flush of prickly sweat washes over my back. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Are you sure?” He surges forward and slams his hand against the wall just an inch from my face, forcing me to cower back. “Because I’ve got a lot of shit to say to you.”

I have to get out of here. I have to get past him .

“I don’t care what you have to say.” My words tremble past gritted teeth. Then I dare to look up at him. His glasses are gone, and his blind eye looks milkier than I remember, although that could just be my memory and how often I dodged looking him in the eye. Now I can do it with ease.

“You will when I’m finished .”

Ashton’s body sways close, and as his hips rock to the right, I take my chance. Placing both hands on his abdomen, I push him as hard as I can while throwing myself forward toward the doors. While Ashton stumbles backward, he still manages to keep a hand around my waist. Just as I reach the doors, he hauls me backward. My fingertips hit a few buttons on the elevator and my box prison shudders to life, but I don’t have time to see which ones.

My back slams into the wall and then Ashton’s fist collides with my jaw. My teeth snap together, rattling inside my skull and spearing into my tongue as my whole head crashes to the left. My ears are ringing and the point of impact blooms hot. I stumble, but his arm keeps me somewhat upright even as the force of the punch sends a shockwave all the way down through my body. My knees weaken, and staying upright becomes a challenge.

Ow .

It takes all my willpower not to give him the satisfaction of a pained noise. Ashton throws me back against the wall a second time as I slump forward.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he snarls, bringing his face so close to mine that the stink of his alcohol-tinged breath forces me to gag. “I’m not done with you.”

“You just can’t help but make things worse, can you?” I gasp, bringing my head up. The light above seems brighter after my punch, and the taste of copper spills across my tongue. I swallow as much as I can, wincing at the bitter taste.

“You know…” Ashton sniffs forcefully. “When I heard that your fucking uncle had pulled some strings to get you out of that cell, I was shocked. Completely and utterly shocked because you were where you belonged. I was all ready to come and gloat to you about the terrible choices you make when, lo and behold, there was still one more thing you could do to screw me over!”

He slams his palm back into the wall, but it doesn’t scare me this time. I’m still trying to gather myself from such a strong punch that everything else feels a little distant.

“What did you do, huh? Did you swear to get down on your knees and suck his dick? Fuck him like the whore you are? First, you screw some fucking bear men in the forest, and then when you’re reunited with family you…” He snorts with dry laughter at his own joke. “You really keep it in the family, huh? Always knew you were a fucking freak.”

“You don’t know what—what Cecil does for work, do you?” I ask. A bead of wetness seeps out of the corner of my mouth. Ashton grabs my chin, shaking my head from side to side, and then his thumb swipes across my lips. It comes back into view, stained red, and he seems pleased.

“I don’t really give a shit, because if he’s flexing his power to keep you safe, then I’ll just have to play up my side of things. Because of you, you fucking bitch, I’m facing charges of lying to the police and obstructing justice as well as drugging you? Are you fucking stupid? You drank like a fucking camel that night and it ain’t my fault you wanted to drive. I lost my fucking sight, for Christ’s sake!”

His words pull me to attention and I glare up at him. “You tell yourself lies for so long that you start to believe them as truth,” I snap. “But guess what? It doesn’t matter. You can scream your stories until you’re blue in the face, but you’re finally, finally going to get what you deserve!”

“What I deserve?” Ashton grabs my throat, squeezing so violently that pressure rushes up behind my eyes and I fear for a split second that they will pop out. Both my hands rise to his wrist and I fight for him to release his grip. He brings his face close to mine, so close that his nose and lips press into my cheek as he hisses at me.

“What I deserve is a life of peace, you cunt. What I deserve is to watch you rot to death in a sewer for destroying my life. What I deserve is a nice life with money you’ve never deserved and a nice wife, but guess what? Cousin Phoebe heard your disgusting lies and called off the engagement. So you know what it means? It’s just me and you, Rayne. Just me and you until I decide I’m done with you, which will be never . You hear me? I’m gonna smother your sad little life until you’re back on your knees begging me to end it!”

My vision dims. I can’t breathe. My heart pounds loudly in my ears, and I can feel the rush of blood throughout my entire body, right down to the pulse between my toes. The news that Phoebe dumped him is my only relief. She clearly didn’t know what an asshole he was, and if I saved her from my fate, then I can mark that down as my last good deed.

Unable to swallow, the blood from my bitten tongue floods my mouth and spills past my lips when I part them and choke. He grins at me. His stained, yellow teeth swim and duplicate through the tears filling my eyes.

Am I going to die here?

I feel like I’m going to die.

I jinxed myself. I thought I could be happy.

I thought I could be with the people I love.

Suddenly, the elevator shudders and the doors behind Ashton slide open with a grating hiss. The change alarms him and his grip around my throat eases enough for me to drag in several rapid breaths that feel like I’m breathing sandpaper into my lungs. Ashton half turns, glancing over his shoulder. There’s no one waiting to get on. The elevator simply stopped at one of the floors I managed to hit earlier.

But it’s my chance.

Driving my knee up hard, I slam my leg into his crotch while reaching for his face and digging my nails in the second I come into contact. I claw down his face with a ragged yell as he doubles over with a grunt.

There’s a small window, and I take it. Pushing past him, the dizziness hits me full force when I try to move. Stumbling out of the elevator, I try to run, but my legs struggle to keep up with the panicked demands in my mind. I hit the wall and slide down it slightly, catching myself with a whimper.

I need help .

Please .

My hands slide over a closed door and I rapidly slap my hands against the wood. When I try to call for help, all that escapes my lips is a soft wheeze. No one responds. I quickly move past the door as Ashton charges out of the elevator.

“ Rayne !”

I freeze. He has four red scratches down his face, and his expression is twisted into rage. He charges toward me like a reckless bull. I have nothing to defend myself with.

I look around wildly, trying to find something to help or an open door I can run to. The only thing nearby is a vase of plastic flowers and holly berries. Throwing myself toward it as he reaches me, I grab the vase with such force that the wooden table it rests on topples over. As it hits the ground, Ashton fails to avoid it and his legs become tangled in the wood. The table splinters under his feet and catches on his shin. He trips with a snarl and slams his head into the wall while he falls. As soon as he hits the ground, I raise the vase above my head and smash it down onto his face as hard as I can.

Porcelain shatters in all directions and the flowers spill around him in a sad circle. He yells, and blood seeps from a gash across his forehead.

He’s stunned.

This is my chance. If I don’t, he’ll never stop coming.

I drop to my knees and snatch up one of the larger shards from the vase. The edges cut into my palm as I grip it, but other than the sensation of pressure, I feel no pain.

Ashton rolls slowly on the ground, slurring his speech. All I need to do is stab him. Right in that nasty fucking throat of his, and then it will be over. I will be free.

Truly free.

I raise my hand. We make eye contact, and for a moment, it looks like he knows his time is up. He knows I’m his demise.

Just as I swing my hand down, a hand catches my wrist. I whip my head around and come face to face with Archer who slides next to me.

“No, Rayne,” he says softly. “No, baby.”

Something brushes past me, and I look back at Ashton in time to see Frankie dive onto him and punch him repeatedly in his face.

This is… my floor?

“But…” I croak back at Archer, and hot tears finally spill down my cheeks.

“I know,” Archer says, winding his body around mine and slowly taking the shard from my hand. “I know, but it’s not worth it. I know it would feel so good right now. Trust me, I know. But in the long run, it won’t help.”

Frankie and Ashton scuffle on the floor—well, it’s more like Frankie beats Ashton to a pulp and Ashton doesn’t stand a chance against a 240-pound forest ranger.

Archer holds me against him, winding his arms and legs around me while Frankie subdues Ashton.

Maybe now, it is finally over.

“I’ve got you,” Archer says over and over again. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Archer doesn’t want to leave me even as I arrive at the medical center, but the doctor insists and quickly sends him packing. On the walk over, I hoarsely explained everything that happened while Frankie and security took care of Ashton. I scared myself. I’ve never thought myself capable of killing someone until that moment, but Archer did the right thing in stopping me. It would have brought me a few seconds of relief and then I never would have been able to live with myself.

No matter how terrible a person Ashton is.

Sitting in the doctor’s office, I let her examine my throat and hand. She’s gentle and efficient, talking to me about the snow, Christmas, and her son. It’s nice to listen to as she takes some blood and runs through any allergies I might have.

“Okay, I want to prescribe you some anti-inflammatories and some painkillers,” she says, moving behind her desk. “They will help with the swelling of your throat and keep the pain levels down.”

“Thank you.” Each time I talk, his hand feels like it's still there, and my heart rate spikes slightly.

“You’re not allergic to any medication, are you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Nothing I know of, at least.”

“Alright. And you’re not pregnant or breastfeeding, are you?”

“No, I…” I pause. “I don’t think so. I have the coil, so… y’know.”

She looks at me over the top of her monitor. “Are you sexually active, dear?”

I nod.

“No problem.” Her smile is warm. “Let’s take a test just to make sure. Better safe than sorry, yes?”

I nod again. It seems standard, but suddenly, I’m nervous for an entirely different reason. The IUD has never failed me, but this past month has been unlike any other month in my entire life, second only to the night of the accident.

The doctor hands me a test and shows me to the bathroom. Then she stands outside and tells me how excited she is for the New Year’s party while I squat and pee on the stick. I know she’s trying to keep me calm, but there’s something strange about listening to her talk.

Parties and celebrations? They seem too alien when I’ve just had my crazy ex try to kill me. As I pee, there’s a distant knock and the doctor excuses herself.

By the time she returns, I’m back at her desk with the stick sitting in a glass, awaiting the results. She pats me gently on the shoulder as she passes.

“The authorities would like to speak to you when you are ready,” she says as she sits back behind her long desk. “I told them not to rush you. Your uncle also appears to be dealing with them.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t have the patience for him or my mother. I don’t want to see anyone. I want to be back in Archer’s arms. I want to cry about how scared I was and how certain I was that murder was my only way out.

The doctor picks up the glass and examines the test, then her face breaks out into a warm smile.

“Well, my dear, it seems you are pregnant.”

A small gust could easily sweep me right off my chair as every nerve in my body freezes solid.

“Wh–What?”

“You’re pregnant! I can use your blood tests to confirm, but it looks like you are going to have a baby! What a lovely Christmas surprise!”