A Touch of Winter (A Short Story) (2 page)

He raced through the dark roads, ignoring speed limits and praying that he didn’t get stopped and ticketed. Not that he cared about the ticket, but the time lost would drive him demented. He wove his way in and out of traffic, thinking that he should have worn a helmet to disguise his famous face. Kit’s beach house had never seemed so far away.

Finally he pulled up in front of it, and took his first full breath in over an hour. There was a light on in it. Kit was right, this is where Abbie was hiding out.

He pressed on the door bell. He could hear it ringing inside the house and turned his head so that he was visible to the security camera. No one spoke or opened the door. He rang again. And again.

Still no response. This time, he leaned on the bell, not letting it go. Just when he thought she was going to wait him out, a voice, muted and tight, but still pure Abbie, crackled through the security mic. 'Go away or I’m calling the cops.'

'Abbie, I have to talk to you.'

'Well, I don’t have to talk to you. Go away.' There was finality in her voice. The mic clicked off.

Well, that approach hadn’t worked. Jack made his way around the back of the house, looking at windows and doors. Everything was locked tightly. But on the far side of the house, a balcony faced the ocean, and a pair of French doors were open, allowing the sound of music to echo faintly over the waves. Perfect access. If only it weren’t more than twelve foot up in the air.

Jack looked at it speculatively. He had been practicing jump squats recently. Underneath the balcony was a rock garden, so no possibility of a run at it. It was time to see what his vertical leap was like.

He stood under the balcony, centered himself, bent his knees and jumped. The first time he missed, though his fingers just brushed the metal frame.

The second time, he managed to hook his fingertips over the edge, but they slipped.

'Third time lucky,' he muttered, crouched low and exploded upwards again. This time, he got a secure hold on the base of the balcony, even though it was just with his fingertips. He swung there for a moment and then he managed to get a better hold on the frame. He slid one hand out a few inches to give himself a better angle, then pulled himself up until his chin was level with the base. He held himself there with his left hand and got his right hand on the upper rail of the balcony. After that, it only took a couple of seconds before he could swing his leg over and was standing on the balcony.

He pushed open the door, revealing Abbie staring into her glass of white wine and singing along to Rumer. She sounded miserable.

'Hello Abbie. Pleased to see me?'

She looked up and for a moment, her face was alight with welcome. Then fury filled her gorgeous eyes and she turned away from him. There was no doubt about it. He was really in trouble this time. 

* * *

Two glasses of tepid white wine and two solid hours of crying hadn’t been enough to take the edge off her pain. When the French doors opened and Jack stepped through the gap as if he was about to rescue the heroine in one of his action movies, Abbie didn’t know whether it was a dream or a nightmare.

'I’ve been calling you for hours.' He sounded thoroughly pissed.
Good.

'And the fact that I’ve been refusing all your calls wasn’t a big clue that I didn’t want to talk to you?' She turned her back to him, pulling a quilt up over her shoulders in dismissal.
He can leave the same way he got in
.

'If you have something to say to me, then say it.'

Abbie twisted round to him, wishing that her breasts were two sizes smaller and that her borrowed clothes weren’t a size zero. 'Okay. How does fuck off and die sound?'

Jack’s blue eyes narrowed as if he couldn’t quite believe what he just heard. Score one for the sub.

Abbie shivered. She wished he didn’t look quite so dangerous. She had seen that expression on his face before. It usually ended up with her on the receiving end of some precision-aimed punishment from Jack’s favourite toy. Well, not tonight.

What the hell did you think you were doing when you pulled that little stunt?' God, he sounded pissed.

'Stunt?' Any ideas that Jack would turn up, grovelling and apologising, turned to vapour. 'Excuse me? Are you saying that I’m the one at fault here?'

'You bet you are.' He sounded really annoyed. 'You turn up, break my favourite statute and scatter glass all over the playroom. Paloma cut her foot and may need stitches, thanks to you.'

Abbie felt a brief pang of guilt, then her sense of indignation returned. 'Well, maybe if you hadn’t been screwing around with her, she wouldn’t be injured?' Despite herself, her voice quivered. The sight of Jack and Paloma had cut deeply.

'Screwing? Are you out of your fucking mind?'

How did Jack manage to look so stern and outraged when all this was his fault?

'And I was stupid enough to think she was my friend. Why couldn’t go to a club and
play
with someone I didn’t know?' She would not cry. Jack was an unfaithful bastard and she wouldn’t shed one more tear for him.

'We weren’t playing. For fucks sake, Abbie, I don’t play with anyone but you. You know that.' He took a step closer to her.

She stood up, trying to ignore him towering over her. Jack was overwhelming enough when she was on her feet and wearing heels. 'Oh stupid me. I must have imagined it.'

For once, he looked slightly discomfited. 'Well, yes, I did tie her up, but it wasn’t a scene. I was helping her rehearse for a play.'

Abbie laughed bitterly. 'God, you couldn’t even think of a good lie to tell me.'

'She’s auditioning for Shibari, Gary Duggan’s play, but Paloma’s never been much of a rope bunny.'

Rope bunny. The phrase was so ludicrous that Abbie laughed.

'I’m better at Shibari than her Dom, so I said I’d help her practice.'

Abbie waited for him to continue, but he firmed his lips and didn’t say any more.  'Go on,' she said.

But he wouldn’t. 'More to the point, what were you doing?'

'I thought I’d surprise you. I caught an earlier flight and then I …' Her voice cracked at the memory of the scene she had seen, but she refused to give in to it.
Why am I making excuses? I’m not the one who was with someone else.
'Get out, Jack. I can’t do this any more.'

She could see the tension in his shoulders, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Jack rubbed his fist against the palm of his other hand as if he wanted to hit something. Then he turned away and took several deep breaths of salty night air. When he spoke again, it was in that deadly calm tone he used just before he annihilated his arch-nemesis on screen. 'Let’s discuss this like adults, Abbie. Why don’t you articulate your issues and —'

'My issues?
My
issues?' Abbie leaned forward to jab a finger at him. She was close enough to catch a hint of sweat. He must have climbed to the second floor to reach the balcony, but she wasn’t in the mood to be impressed. 'I caught you playing with another woman. Is that articulate enough for you?'

His head jerked back as if he’d been struck.

Ignoring the danger signs, she pressed on. 'You’ve been away for weeks. You’ve barely messaged me since you got back from location. You haven’t returned any of my calls and—'

'I’ve been busy, Abbie. Paloma has—'

'Don’t. I don’t want to hear you talking about her.'

'Fine. If you’d rather do this the hard way…' Before she could guess his intention, his hands close around her upper arms and he propelled her backwards until her legs hit the couch. Abbie struggled, trying to jerk out of his grasp, but he was too strong and far too angry. Instead, she raised her foot and brought it down sharply on his instep. Jack barely blinked. It was like kicking a tire iron.

'You really shouldn’t have done that.' A quick jerk of his arms and she tumbled onto the couch and he followed her down Despite her struggles, he grasped both wrists and pinned them above her head. She thrashed against him, wriggling like an eel, but she couldn’t dislodge him. Abbie could feel the heat of him through the fabric of his shirt and the hardness against her thighs told her that her struggles were inflaming more than his temper. She stopped moving. They lay there, staring at each other, huffing breaths like two boxers sizing each other up for the next round.

'Okay. Why don’t I go first? You ran out on me tonight and I didn’t like it.'

Abbie jerked against him, wishing that her hand was free so that she could punch his handsome face. 'What did you expect me to do? Join in? Oh, I bet you’d love that.'

Icy blue eyes glared at her. 'Actually, I’m a one-woman kind of guy. And you should know that by now.'

It sounded so good, but how could she believe it? Her rage evaporated, leaving despair. Abbie turned her face away, afraid of what he might see in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him know how much he had hurt her.

'Hey…' With his free hand, Jack stroked her face and she bit down hard on her lip.
I will not cry
.

His thumb brushed along her cheekbone, collecting the single tear that had managed to escape. 'Oh, Abbie, Abbie, don’t.' Holding her jaw firmly, he turned her head. Abbie scrunched her eyes shut determined not to look at him. 'Why do you do this to yourself?'

Her eyes flew open. 'What do you mean?'

'You could have walked into the playroom. You could have let me know that you were there. Instead you ran away. You always run away.'

She shook her head. There is nothing she could say.

'Why are you always ready to believe the worst? I haven’t looked at another woman since I met you, but the bottom line is that you don’t trust me.'

* * *

Jack stared down at her in frustration. He was torn between wanting to spank her, smother her with kisses, and howl. Fuck, this time she hadn’t even waited for them to have an argument to run away.

No more. He had plans for the two of them, and they didn’t include chasing after Abbie every time she was unhappy about something. It was difficult enough trying to sustain a relationship while they lived in different states. If their relationship was to survive, she had to learn to open up to him.

And he knew just how to make her talk.

'Jack, what are you up to? That’s an evil smile.' Abbie sounded worried. Good, she was right to be.

He allowed his smile to widen. 'It occurs to me that our problem is you don’t talk to me. So you are going to talk, and I’m going to listen.'

She tightened her lips and made a 'humph' sound as she glared at him in silent dignity. It would have been more effective if she hadn’t been stretched out on the couch, dressed in one of Kit’s t-shirts which was stretched to the limit over her beautifully curved breasts.

He looked around the room quickly, seeing if he could find anything useful. Those curtain ties might work. He pulled one loose, and before Abbie could get up, and used it to tie her wrists together. She wiggled like a silverfish, and contorted herself into interesting shapes trying to pull loose, but he wasn’t letting her get away. When he had finished, her arms were stretched above her head, she was panting and sweating and cursing him in language she had never learned at her country club. And her Tee had ridden up, allowing him a glimpse of soft pale skin.

‘You are a goddamn asshole,' she said. The venom in her voice was real. 'You mess around with other women, and then think you can break in here and tie me up. Well, I’m finished with you and your stupid kinky games.'

'And yet you didn’t use your safe word,' he said mildly.

Her eyes flared. 'Red! Red! Fucking red! Now let me up.'

He made a point of standing back, so that he wasn’t touching her at any point. 'In one minute. We’re playing a new game tonight. Your safe word is "Stop". Think you can remember that?' Her glare was his answer, and he continued before she could interrupt. 'But if you use it, not only does everything stop, but I’m gone. We’re finished, and you’ll never see me again.'

She recoiled. He had been gambling, but it had paid off. She didn’t want him to walk.

'So what are you going to do, asshole?' she sneered. 'Beat me? You don’t have your tool kit with you.'

Jack’s tool kit, the bag containing his crops, canes, paddles and flails, was a joke between them. And it was in his house in Hollywood. 'Don’t worry, I’ll improvise.'

He could tell she was determined to wiggle free as soon as he turned his back, and the slippery cord of the tiebacks would come loose with a bit of determined effort, so he twisted her panties around her ankles and looped the other cord around them, and tied it to the foot of the couch. 'Stay there until I come back,' he said, enjoying her glare and swear words. So much better than the tears and defeat he had seen in her face earlier.

He spent a few minutes searching the cupboards in Kit’s kitchen, which were filled with weird vegetarian pseudo-foods and lentils, looking for suitable equipment. Just in case, he checked the freezer and laughed when he saw it was stuffed with large rib-eye steaks. Kit hadn’t turned Kev vegetarian yet, and he was betting on his friend remaining a meat-and-two-veg man until his dying day.