He gives me a nod then walks off toward the main hallway.
I walk out to find Liza. It’s time for me to come clean about the real reason I came to Snow Hills. I don’t know how she’ll react, but I can’t imagine it’ll be good. Even so, I hope she can forgive me. Especially when I offer to provide screenshots to the Snow Hills Daily of the bullshit Mayor McGovern was trying to cook up.
“Hey, where’s Liza?” I find Eve at the table set up for drinks.
“She went to the bathroom.” She arches a brow. “To clean herself up. Because there was a mess someone left.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smirk at her.
“Sure you don’t.” She tosses her hair. “If you hurt her, you’re dead. You already know that, right? You’re a smart man, so you know I will murder you if you ever make her cry.”
“I’m aware.” I glance toward the bathroom.
She sips her drink, then looks in the same direction. “She’s been gone for a while.” She walks toward the door, then opens it and peeks in. “What the hell?”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and I push the door all the way open. The bathroom’s empty, the window is busted, and there are drag marks in the snow outside.
22
LIZA
I groan, reaching up to rub my eyes. My brain is foggy. Did I have too much to drink or something? I try to think back to the last thing I can remember, but I freeze when I realize my hands are linked together, my wrists touching. What the heck?
“Crane?” I sit up, my eyes not yet adjusting to the darkness. Were we playing some sex game and we fell asleep? I can still feel the soreness from when he was inside me. He took me roughly, and I loved every second of it. He didn’t treat me all sweet like a pretty prize to put on his shelf. That’s what I often think of some of the men who’ve tried to date me in town. They have this cookie cutter image of what kind of wife and mother I’d be.
Sure, I do want those things, but I want something else too. Now I know what that is. Crane. He doesn’t handle me with all those manners or preconceived notions. He somehow knew what I needed deep down. Maybe it’s why we're so drawn to one another. We know we’re a match.
“Crane?” I call again. I start to shift off the bed when I realize this isn’t my bed. Did we go back to his house? We always stay at mine. A chill breaks out across my skin when more comes back to me. I’d been in the bathroom, and then someone else was there.
A door creaks open a moment before light floods the room. I blink my eyes again, trying to adjust.
“Don’t say his name.”
“Carlton?” He finally comes into focus.
Carlton stands in the doorway, but my attention is drawn around the room that is covered in holiday decorations. The walls are painted green, the drapes over the windows a deep red. I spot at least three trees in the small room. White holiday lights hang from the entire ceiling. My mind finally processes that’s where all the bright light is coming from.
“Is this your place?” I thought he lived over the laundromat, which is a studio.
“It’s ours.”
“The town’s? Are you making some holiday house tour or something?” Oh, I’d never thought of a Christmas house tour. It would be like how some of the other towns do haunted house tours for Halloween. It’s not a terrible Idea.
I try to lift my hands again, which reminds me they’re stuck together. Duct tape is wrapped around them, keeping them pinned.
“Not the town’s.”
“There’s duct tape on me.” I lift my arms to show him.
“I’ll take it off once you’re more trained. Don’t move.” Carlton turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. A loud click sounds, letting me know that he’s locked me in here.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. What the hell is happening here? I close my eyes. This is a weird dream. It has to be. Images of Carlton flash in my mind. He’d been in the bathroom. I’d seen him in the mirror before... My heart starts to race. He put something over my mouth and nose.
The same click sounds again before the door swings back open. Carlton comes waltzing in with a tray in his hand. He walks toward the bed. I find myself scooting backward as quickly as I can until my back hits the headboard. My stupid dress rides up my thighs in the process.
“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.” Carlton sets the tray on the bed, his eyes traveling up my legs. He licks his lips. I honestly thought Carlton was into men. A part of me hoped he’d be open to telling me at some point. “I’ve got all your favorite Christmas treats.” He gives me a giant smile as though what he’s doing is perfectly normal.