Frostbite (BearPaw Resort Book 3) Read online

  I knew he was about to say what we’d just done was a mistake.

  Swallowing, I allowed him to pull me around. The brush made a light snapping sound when he laid it behind us on the counter.

  Our stares bounced between the other’s, measuring, trying to talk without saying a single word. The air around us shifted, his broad shoulders rose, and I braced for whatever it was he was about to say.

  A muffled ringing broke the moment.

  Liam stiffened. Then worry filled his eyes. Grabbing his pants, he yanked the cell out of the pocket and answered instantly.

  “Mom?”

  I couldn’t hear what she said on the other end. Liam didn’t look at me when he listened. It was as if he forgot I was there.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” he said, his voice gentle yet pained. “I know.”

  He was silent again. Then he spoke. “We’ll be right there.”

  More silence.

  His eyes slid to me, then away.

  An odd feeling squeezed the back of my neck, and my stomach clenched. Swallowing back the bile rising in my throat, I reached around and grabbed the counter as an anchor.

  “Okay. Yeah.” He spoke softly and then disconnected the call.

  I had to clear my throat twice before I could speak. “Is she okay?”

  Avoiding my gaze, he replied, “No. She’s not.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t even imagine how she must feel. I glanced at the bandage covering Liam’s shoulder, remembering the agony that ripped through me when I saw him fall after being shot. I remembered the way it felt when I left the resort over eight years ago and thought I’d never see him again.

  Finally, I thought of the way he’d just looked at me as he was on the phone.

  Maybe I could imagine. At least a little.

  “You should be with her,” I whispered. “She needs you.”

  I felt his eyes, but I didn’t look up. Instead, I focused on the floor and the single drop of water still clinging to the top of my foot.

  “Get dressed,” he said, heading for the door.

  My head whipped up, and something that felt a hell of a lot like relief opened up inside me. “You want me to come with you?”

  He stopped in the doorway. The way his shoulders nearly hit his ears was all the answer I needed. Without turning back, he robbed me of the sight of his face. “I’ll take you to Alex’s,” he replied, then disappeared into the bedroom.

  I stood there and stared at the empty space he’d occupied. That little bit of relief I’d experienced shriveled up and died inside me.

  It didn’t matter that we’d just made love. Maybe it hadn’t been love at all. Maybe it had been clinging to life after a night full of death.

  Whatever it was, I knew.

  I know.

  Liam and I had just reached the beginning of the end.

  Liam

  Alex lived in a cabin not far from mine. Rarely did we drive between places because we usually had a board or skis strapped to our feet, but tonight was different.

  The first rays of the sun were beginning to crest over the mountain, turning the night sky into a peach-hued dawn. Stars still dotted overhead, and the massive amounts of snow the blizzard brought in covered everything.

  My truck drove as though the snow wasn’t even there, the headlights bouncing off the wooden A-frame exterior of his place when I pulled up. I barely had the truck in park when Bellamy reached for the door handle.

  We hadn’t spoken at all. There was an awkward charged silence between us, having only disappeared when I was inside her in the shower.

  I knew I shouldn’t, but her body had just been too hard to deny. The comfort I found in her was the only thing that tethered me to sanity.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I said, voice gruff.

  She paused, her body leaning toward mine even though she didn’t glance around. “You don’t have to rush.”

  The muscle in the side of my jaw ticked. “She just needs a little time…” My voice drifted away.

  Breath whooshed out of her, and with it came words. “She blames me, Liam. I wouldn’t want to see me either.”

  My eyes closed, hands gripping the steering wheel tight, when what I really wanted was to reach for her. “Bellamy.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Go be with her. She’s your family.”

  My eyes snapped open and head flew toward where she sat. She wasn’t looking at me, though, but out the windshield. A small sound ripped from her throat, and the truck door flung open, ripped out of her hand by the winter wind.

  “Charlie!” she cried and scrambled down from the cab.

  Alex was standing in the door of his place, loose sweats covering his frame. The dog bounded off the porch, barking, and beelined for Bells. They met at the front of the truck, the headlights creating a spotlight on the pair as they reunited.

  Bellamy flung her arms around the giant dog’s neck and buried her face in his fur. Charlie’s tail beat so hard against the snow it drifted up around them.

  Bellamy’s shoulders shook a little beneath her coat, and my throat constricted. I couldn’t even imagine what she’d gone through last night.

  And here you are leaving her with your best friend.

  She pulled back from the dog, and he lapped her face with his slobbery tongue. Bellamy wiped at her cheeks, and I knew it was tears she swiped away, not the dog drool.

  Alex called out, and they both looked up and started to the porch.

  His lips moved when she drew close, and her head bobbed. Alex unfolded his arms and pulled her in, tucking her body against his.

  Through the windshield, our eyes met and held. Even from this distance, I saw the sorrow in his face, the solidarity he represented. He’d been close to my dad, too. We were all grieving right now.

  Still holding on to my girl, his stare stayed on me. Slowly, he nodded with promise of watching out for her while I was with Mom.

  Why did I always feel so torn? Torn between Bellamy and everything else.

  The truck reversed with ease. Snow blew around a bit, and a few branches wobbled under the weight of the white. Alex stayed in the doorway, Bellamy bundled in his arms.

  The second I put the truck in drive, I saw her body flinch, as if me leaving caused her physical pain.

  Instantaneously, I slammed the gear in park. The Extreme wobbled a little as I threw open the door and jumped down. My shoulder throbbed, but I kind of liked the pain. It kept me grounded to the here and now.

  The several feet of snow underfoot was of no consequence. It certainly wasn’t enough to keep me from making a beeline right for my girl.

  Alex leaned down and whispered something beside her ear, and she jerked away from him to spin around with wide eyes. When she saw me stalking forward, emotion broke over her face and she started to run. Bellamy rushed across the deck, and I held out my arms, gesturing for her to come home.

  Without a single moment’s hesitation, she leaped off the top step as I rushed forward and caught her around the waist. Her thighs clamped around my body, her arms around my neck.

  “You’re my family, too,” I said, rough.

  “Even still?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.

  “Oh, baby, even still.”

  Tears fell, creating glistening tracks down her cheeks. I wiped them away, feeling some of the distance between us crumble.

  “I’m coming back for you.” I vowed. “We’re gonna talk this out.”

  Chemistry and unspoken thoughts and feelings ebbed and flowed around us, the emotion swirling so raw and tangible I could practically taste it.

  “Don’t give up on me,” I rasped, the plea bubbling up from the darkest fear inside me.

  “I won’t ever,” she whispered.

  I filled my hands with her ass and leaned up. She met me halfway, our lips brushing in a tender kiss. Everything inside me went quiet for long, precious moments. Relief made me go slack. My lips fell away, our foreheads pressing together.

>   I knew I should say more, but the words were lodged in my throat, and no matter how many times I swallowed, I couldn’t unstick them.

  I loved her so goddamn much. She deserved better than me. Better than a man who couldn’t protect her.

  Reluctantly, I pulled back. “I have to go.”

  “I know.”

  Instead of putting her down, I walked a few feet, carried her up the stairs, and then placed her on the deck.

  Alex shifted in the doorway. I glanced over her shoulder at my best friend. Lightly, he tapped the center of his chest with his fist.

  I returned the gesture.

  It hurt when I left her standing there on the porch. I felt her stare as I left.

  I would come back for her. We would talk this out…

  I just wasn’t sure if words would be enough.

  Bellamy

  I felt like a battery with no life left in me at all.

  Walking through Alex’s cabin, I didn’t even notice my surroundings or realize this was my first time at his place. I walked into the sunken living room and curled up on the end of one of the leather couches. Charlie jumped up beside me and lay down, his big head covering my side. His fur was soft and warm, a comforting sensation to contrast the intensity of my feelings and thoughts.

  Alex stepped in front of me, dragged the coffee table behind him close, and lowered so he was sitting right in front of where I was curled.

  “How you doing?” he asked, his voice hushed.

  “How do you think?”

  “Want to talk?”

  I shook my head, adamant.

  He fell quiet, but his eyes never left me. I wondered how I looked to him then, pathetic and weak or like a tornado of havoc destroying everything in my path.

  After a while, he started to get up.

  “Alex…”

  He dropped back down and covered one of my hands with his. I tightened my fingers around his, clinging on as if I just realized how badly I needed an anchor.

  We stayed like that a long time, me staring off into space and him holding my hand. The curtains were all drawn so the room remained dim, no sunlight intruding. It still felt like night regardless because, really, I hadn’t even been to bed.

  After a while, my voice startled me, as if my mouth spoke without consulting my brain. “Alex?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I killed someone today.”

  “He deserved worse.”

  “You’ve killed before, haven’t you?”

  He didn’t react physically, but the energy in the room changed. “Liam told you?”

  I shook my head and looked up from the arm of the sofa. “No.”

  The piercing light blue of his eyes stared at me, maybe recognizing something. “I have.”

  Behind us a fire crackled in a large stone hearth. Charlie had all the warmth of a blanket, and Alex’s strong presence made me feel a little brave. “Do you ever feel guilty?”

  He studied me for long moments, almost weighing his words. “Truth?”

  I nodded.

  That calm, deadly exterior fell over him, the one I saw before. I realized then I only saw that piece of him when he allowed me to. “No. Some men don’t deserve to live.”

  I nodded again. His honesty made me feel better because the admission didn’t change the way I felt about Alex. The fact that he killed without guilt didn’t make me look at him any different than before.

  Alex wasn’t a bad person, and that meant neither was I.

  Then why do I feel like one?

  His long fingers reached out a little later, pushing away some of the hair falling into my face. “You’re blaming yourself hard, aren’t you?”

  I puzzled his words. “If I hadn’t killed Spidey, he would have killed all of us.”

  “Not Spidey. Ren.”

  The mention of Liam’s father brought a rush of tears to the surface and a piercing pain through my chest. “It’s my fault,” I whispered.

  Alex made a sound, dropped off the coffee table, and hit the floor right in front of the couch. His fingers squeezed mine. “Ren’s death was not your fault. Liam said you tried to push him out of the way.”

  “I was too late.”

  Alex’s mouth flattened. “No one blames you for his death.”

  “Liam does.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” he retorted.

  “His mom does.”

  He sucked in a breath, knowing I was right. I was here with him because Liam’s mother couldn’t bear the thought of looking at me. After pausing for a few heartbeats, Alex said, “I think she gets a pass for tonight. She just lost the love of her life.”

  But what happens when she still hates me tomorrow? I didn’t say it out loud because I was weary of talking.

  Allowing my eyes to drift shut, I replayed the moment I shared with Liam before he left. How he looked bursting out of the Extreme and rushing toward me. How right it felt when his lips brushed over mine.

  Even after everything, the pull between us was undeniable.

  Still, he left anyway.

  Liam

  “I’m sorry to call you over here like this,” Mom said when I stepped in the door.

  She was wrapped in a thick robe, dark circles shadowing her red eyes.

  I shut the door, then hugged her. I was bigger, so she fit against me easily. “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “This place is just so empty… I never realized how big it was until tonight.”

  “Dad had a large presence,” I remarked, glancing around.

  “Yes, he does.” She pressed her lips together. “Did.”

  Tucking an arm around her shoulders, I led her upstairs.

  “How about some tea?” she said, moving ahead into the kitchen.

  I followed along, agreeing to the tea I didn’t want. “Have you slept at all?” I asked.

  “I don’t think I could.”

  “You need to try, Mom. You have to take care of yourself.”

  She was good at redirecting the conversation. “How are you? How is your shoulder?”

  “It’s just a few stitches.”

  She rushed across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me again. “Oh, if I’d have lost you, too…” Her voice quivered.

  “You might have if Bellamy hadn’t been there.”

  She stiffened and then jerked away, going back to the tea.

  I didn’t know why I said that. It was a dick thing to bring up, and I should have known better. I was just so damn angry.

  About everything.

  I felt like a pot on high simmer, rapidly approaching full boil and about to spill over.

  “Mom,” I said, remorse thick in my voice.

  She sniffed. “You wouldn’t have been in that position at all if it weren’t for her.” She spun, a tea bag swinging between her fingertips. “Your father would still be alive!”

  He was dying anyway.

  I sucked in a breath at the thought. Thank Christ I had enough control left in me to not spew that. My God, what the fuck was I thinking?

  “She didn’t want Dad to die. You have to know that. She was trying to push him out of the way, just like she had me.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she turned back to the tea kettle that was beginning to whistle. Silence filled the house as she poured the tea and added honey to both mugs.

  “She killed the man who killed Dad, you know.” I went on after a few strained moments. “Bellamy picked up the gun and emptied and entire clip into that asshole.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Mom whispered.

  I thought back to the shower, to the words Bells whispered to me. “Because I’m in love with her.”

  She turned, eyes meeting mine. “You could love a woman who killed your own father?”

  I flinched, feeling as if she’d smacked me. She saw it so black and white… Maybe I would too if this wasn’t Bellamy.

  If this wasn’t the girl who’d gotten away and then come home.

  “She
loved Dad just like we do.”

  Her voice was shrill when she snapped, “No one loves him like me!” Her anger dissolved into weeping, and I felt about two feet tall.

  My footsteps ate up the kitchen tile, and I pulled her into a hug. She clung to me and cried, her wrenching sobs finding a piece of me that had yet to break and snapping it in two.

  Talking about this right now was a shit idea. My mom couldn’t handle anything except the next moment in front of her. Convincing her that Bellamy wasn’t at fault was a waste of time because her feelings were her own. As were mine.

  Who are you trying to convince, Liam? You or your mom?

  The front of my shirt was damp as I led her out of the kitchen, away from the forgotten tea, and into the living area where I guided her to sit on the sofa. She tucked her legs beneath her and leaned her head on my shoulder. Her cries had quieted, but she fidgeted with a used tissue in her hands, occasionally dabbing her face.

  “What am I going to do without him?”

  I was wondering the same thing.

  “It was too soon,” she murmured. “He wasn’t supposed to die this soon.”

  “We could have had forever, and it still wouldn’t be enough.” I agreed, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

  “I’m glad the man who shot him is dead,” she said a short while later, after some of the grief settled at our feet.

  I squeezed her a little tighter, offering more comfort that I didn’t feel.

  I supposed it was something she was willing to admit that Dad hadn’t died directly because of Bellamy.

  But really…

  Spidey might have shot my father, but was he the one ultimately responsible for his death?

  Perry Crone claimed ownership of that nefarious deed, so in my eyes, the man who killed my father was still alive and breathing.

  Bellamy

  Two days.

  It had been two days since Liam dropped me off on Alex’s porch and two days since he said I was still his family.

  The more time that passed, the more I was able convince myself he’d only said that in the moment, and the minute he’d gotten some space, he realized just how bad I was for him.