Page 113 of Break the Ice

Keeping calm hasn’t been easy. This evening has been filled with nothing but mindfuck after mindfuck. From Jerry revealing she was the person texting me, suspecting I’d been the one to murder Hawk, to Gomez and Rafe’s father intending to frame me.

Nothing has been what I hoped it would be.

I was supposed to be halfway out of the country by now.

The shock rings through me, intense despite my composure.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve formed many different theories about who was behind what was going on. I’ve gone from being convinced Rafe was the person sending the anonymous texts to being sure Blackman was the puppet master pulling the strings.

When Jerry cornered me earlier tonight, I thought she was behind what was happening. Not once did I consider Rafe’s father, Eliot.

Rafe hadn’t known either. It still didn’t stop him from going along with his father’s plan. He hardly questioned any of it. He proved what I already knew about human nature. People can’t be trusted. They’ll disappoint you each and every time.

David taught me this lesson so many years ago.

How could I even begin to think Rafe would be different?

No one’s coming to save me. I’ll have to do that myself.

My heart aches at the crushing dose of realism. The feelings I’ve developed despite my better judgment rush me and leave me craving an evening home alone with a pint of ice cream and my Netflix subscription.

How could Rafe look me in the eye and give me hope? How could he when he chose to do what his father wanted?

They’re probably burying Jerry’s body now.

But I squash down the heartbreak and remind myself it’s the worst time for a pity party. I’ll worry about fallen hope and broken hearts later. Right now, I need to find a way out of this situation.

“What other evidence have you been planting on me, detective?” I ask.

“More than you realize. Every time I’ve visited your office and apartment I’ve planted some. You’ve never noticed. You were too busy making tea in that little K-Cup of yours. But, don’t worry. I hear you get plenty of tea breaks in prison.” He laughs at his own bad joke.

“What if… I made you an offer?” My voice softens to silk, my lips pouty. I give him my best come-hither look I can muster in such a fucked up situation. “You change your mind and don’t frame me, I’ll make it worth your while.”

He pauses for half a second, then chuckles. “I bet you made the same offer to Hawk. Blackman too. And we can’t forget Alpha. There’s a reason he’s acting like a fool over you.”

The skeevy accusations couldn’t be falser—at least the ones about Mr. Hawk and Blackman. But I force myself to play along. If I can sweet talk the detective into undoing my handcuffs, I’ll have a shot at freedom.

Anything for survival.

My come-hither expression intensifies, dripping lust. “Then why don’t you find out for yourself, detective? There’s a bed in this room, isn’t there? Uncuff me and I’ll show you why I’ve had them wrapped around my little finger.”

He sputters in his response, the sound he makes similar to a scoff. His acting’s not convincing enough to last more than a second or two. As I bite my bottom lip and straighten my posture so that my bust is emphasized, his gaze slips and he gives a hard swallow.

“Mr. Golding and Rafe will never know,” I whisper. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

“A few minutes, huh?” he repeats, taking a couple steps closer. He throws a paranoid glance over his shoulder as if checking for Rafe or his father. “Five minutes. You better back up all this smack talk. Get down on your knees.”

“But the handcuffs?—”

“You can give head without me uncuffing you.”

My insides knot up. The panic spreads fast. “No… wait a second…”

“Shut up,” he snaps, his fingers clench shut around my arm and force me down. He goes to unzip his fly, a cold grin twisting onto his lips. “You said you wanted this. No turning back now.”

A man’s deep scream pierces the air. The sound’s coming from downstairs.

Gomez glances over his shoulder at the doorway as if debating if he should go check what’s going on. I don’t hesitate or give it any thought. I spring up from where I’m kneeling in front of him and reach for the gun holstered on his hip. He catches on not even a millisecond later and tries to block me.