Page 2 of Wicked Winter Night

“Not what it looks like?! Are you serious? Tell me, Kaci, if it's not what it looks like, then what is it?”

“It just happened,” Liam states, frantically putting his pants back on. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming home early.”

My jaw drops at his words, as though he’s not sorry for fucking my best friend but rather that I came home early and caught him. My mind is racing a million miles an hour, and my palms begin to sweat. My eyes dart back and forth between the two, and the rage begins to fester even more. I feel fucking stupid, and that pisses me off more than anything. How could I have missed this?

“FUCK YOU,” I scream. “FUCK BOTH OF YOU.” I open the bag still in my hand and pull the wallet from the box. I take it in my hand and chunk it at him. “Here, you piece of shit! Here is the Christmas gift I got you. And here,” I add, grabbing the to-go boxes with food. “Here’s fucking dinner. I hope you both choke on it.” I take the boxes, throwing them one by one at each of them.

“And you,” I seethe, pointing my finger at my now ex-best friend. “You’re fucking dead to me. I don’t want to ever speak to you or see your face ever again.” My heart cracks at the words, despite the reason for them. I feel like I’m losing a piece of me, like from this point forward, a part of me will always be missing, like there will always be a hole that no one else will ever fill. Flashes of our friendship play like a movie in my head, and my eyes well with tears as I look at her one last time before I steel my features, not wanting to give her any more of my heart than she’s already taken.

I quickly grab a bag, throwing all the belongings I can into it, before I bolt out the door. Not even taking a single glance back.

I jolt awake, the water now having gone cold. The memory from that night fades away, and I quickly get out of the bath. I get dressed and get ready for bed. It’s a little late for the fireplace, so I pop downstairs, searching for a few electrical heaters I can place by the bed. Thankfully, I also brought my heated blanket with me.

Entering the kitchen, I pause, noticing the cooler is in a different location than where I thought I left it. That’s odd. Did I move it before heading upstairs? Or maybe I thought I left it next to the fridge, and it was really in front of the pantry? I don’t know. It’s late, and I’m tired, and I’m just ready for bed. I grab the water I came in here for out of the fridge, and head back upstairs, grabbing the electric heater along the way. There’s already one in my room, and with my blanket, this should do the trick.

Once I’ve plugged both heaters in, I plug my blanket in and my phone, ignoring the dozens of texts I’ve received from both shit stains, and roll over, closing my eyes. I’m already exhausted, and today has been a shit day. It doesn’t take long before sleep takes me.

CHAPTER THREE

She’s so beautiful, nestled into her blankets like this. I suppose it’s really fucking cold outside, but I stopped feeling the cold long ago. I run my finger down her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin grace mine. She’s justdivine.

I hadn’t expected her to almost hit me on the road earlier. No one ever comes out this way anymore, especially in a storm. Any sooner, and she would have caught me throwing Mr. Smith overthe cliff a few yards from the road. I was just making my way back to my truck hidden amongst the trees when the headlights caught me off guard. Thankfully, she maintained control and didn’t spin out over the edge of the cliff. I watched her from a distance, getting out of her car to check for me. She was just so beautiful, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. I followed her when she left, maintaining a good distance to not be noticed, before I saw her turn onto the road leading up to this cabin. The mailbox read “Jacobs” in red lettering.

I waited at the end of the drive, watching her haul the cooler inside and her move from room to room throughout the house from the windows. When she decided to take a bath, I snuck into the cabin, taking a look around. According to her driver’s license in her wallet on the table by the door, her name is Ella, she’s thirty years old, and she’s from just outside the state line in Kansas. Only a few hours’ drive to where we are in Colorado. Something must have happened for her to have the balls to drive out here in this weather. When I set her wallet down, I checked around the house some more. It seems as though no one has been up here for a while. She brought a cooler of food with her, after all. A cooler I decided would be fun to move just to fuck with her a bit.

She’s the first woman I’ve seen out this way in a few years. Most of the people who come out here are passing through in freight trucks, and the residents in this town mostly keep to themselves. They’re mostly elderly people who’ve decided to retire in the country where it’s peaceful. It’s also a great place for people like me, who’ve been using this place as a dumping ground for our kills. There’s nothing at the bottom of the cliff. The bodies that get tossed off the side fall to the depths below, being covered by layers of snow for months on end before spring hits and melts. Whatever is left is then picked upon by the animals coming out of hibernation. I’d kill for fun, but getting toput my skills to work and making a living from it is even better. Several years ago, I was contacted by a man named David on behalf of his boss, Dean. Apparently, their business is booming so much that they need help. To this day, I don’t know how they found me or knew of my… activities, but I decided to jump aboard. I was given two rules. Don’t kill the innocent and don’t get caught. Simple enough.

Mr. Smith was a piece of shit who raped his step-daughter. The justice system failed her when they only gave him a year in prison, and he didn’t even have to register. Well, his year was up today, so I pretended to be his Uber and waited for him outside the gates. Fucker didn’t see it coming.

A whimper brings my focus back to the goddess before me. Her breathing is rapid, and I can see the eyes behind her lids moving quickly. She must be dreaming. A smirk graces my face when I get the most devious idea. Standing here, staring at her angelic beauty, my cock suddenly hardens, imagining her perfect pink lips wrapped around the tip. Imagining those blue sapphire gems staring up at me as she takes my entire length down her throat. I unzip my pants, pull myself out, and give myself a few strokes before pre-cum escapes the tip. I take my fingers and swipe the pre-cum up, moving them over to her mouth before rubbing them across her lips.

“Mine,” I breathe out. I tuck myself away and head back downstairs. Before heading outside, I grab the nearest pen and paper and write a little note, leaving it on the kitchen counter. Then, I make my way outside and to my truck, vowing to make this woman mine. No matter what it takes.

CHAPTER FOUR

Christmas Eve

Light shines brightly through the old curtains, waking me up before I’m ready. I squint one eye and open the other, checking the time on the old digital alarm on the nightstand. It’s 7am. “Ughhh, even after all the shit I’ve been through, you can’t just let me sleep in one day?” I say aloud. Sitting up, I take onestretch, extending my arms in the air. My lips feel a bit dry, so I swipe my tongue across them. My face scrunches, and I try again, sticking my tongue out and swiping it across the top and bottom lip. I was not imagining it the first time. There’s a salty taste in my mouth, coming from my lips. Weird. Did I sweat in my sleep?

I check my sheets, but all seems dry. Maybe it was just my face then? I head to the bathroom and take a look in the mirror. There’s an opaque white substance across my lips, and I make a face of disgust before turning the water on to wash my face. “Ew. What the fuck was that?” I say to myself, patting my face dry with a towel.

I stare at the image of the woman reflected before me. Eyes swollen from crying, face puffy, hair is an utter mess. I exhale, fixing my hair into a messy bun. “Today’s a new day, Ella. Get it together,” I say to myself in the mirror before turning and shutting the light off. I need coffee and stat.

I head down the stairs and into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. The fresh aroma of Colombian grounds fills my nostrils, and my mouth waters. I grab a mug, the creamer, and some cold foam cream from the fridge I stored last night, and place everything onto the counter in anticipation of my caffeine fix. A white folded piece of paper catches my eye sitting in the middle of the counter, and I freeze for a moment. I know that wasn’t there last night. I reach out with a shaking hand and pick it up, slowly unfolding it, before four handwritten words greet me.

How did I taste?

-L

I drop the note, my body freezing up entirely. The fuck does that mean? Who wrote this? Was someone in my house lastnight? Who is L? My eyes widen, and my mind races a million miles an hour. Liam? What does it mean bytaste? I focus on the wordtaste, fully believing that the longer I stare at it, the more it will make sense.

Just then, it dawns on me. OH, FUCK NO! I run upstairs, vomit roiling in my stomach, and I barely make it to the toilet before I retch into the porcelain bowl. Once I’m certain the contents of my stomach are gone, I grab my toothpaste and saturate it with the minty gel, going to town on the inside of my mouth and around my lips and rubbing every area raw. Then, I swish with mouthwash and repeat the steps until I no longer feel disgusting.

I bolt back downstairs and grab my phone, dialing 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Someone was in my cabin. They left a note on my counter, and… and… please just send someone out here. Please!” I say frantically.