In Too Deep (Winter Games Book 4) Page 3

  I squeezed her a little tighter as anger pumped through my veins. It hurt my heart, but I would hug her until the end of time even if she could never bring herself to return it.

  “Frost,” Chance’s voice rasped on the line.

  He always called me ‘Frost’ just like I usually referred to him as ‘Pride,’ because nicknames, just like old habits, die hard. But it didn’t change the fact that Chance Ryder was my best friend and the closest thing, aside from Lila, that I had to family anymore.

  “You busy?” I asked, sprawled on the couch with Lila sitting next to me watching Finding Nemo on my TV; she was completely engrossed. She loved fish—always asking why we couldn’t get some to live in the pool.

  I, on the other hand, was on my laptop monitoring my investments—mostly the Bitcoin that I’d purchased just over a year ago. The shit was volatile as fuck and I had alerts set up on at least ten different websites to notify me if the thing started to tank, but I still checked it like it was a goddamn pregnancy test; one line for millions, two for fucked.

  Bitcoin made me rich enough to buy this whole goddamn house—and then another fifty just like it. But no one knew. Everyone knew exactly what I wanted them to.

  I wanted them to know that I was into graphic design, that I wanted to possibly work for some snowboarding company designing boards. It wasn’t a lie. All the best cover stories aren’t—at least, for the most part. I wanted to do that, but the real truth was that I didn’t have to. I had so much fucking money and the irony was that none of it could help me right now.

  “What’s wrong? Did Eliza show up again?” he asked immediately.

  “No.” I held back the expletive given my current company, my mood instantly darkening.

  Eliza Blackman was a soulless cunt. And that was saying a lot considering it was coming from a previously-drug-addicted man-whore with an attitude like an old-time, rabbit-eared TV—the only channel available was Asshole. But at least it came through in color.

  She’d dumped Lila on my doorstep—mind you, never previously informing me that I even had an offspring—when my baby girl was just over a year old. And then she’d disappeared. I was pissed that she left for all of two weeks until all of the tests came back from the doctors and I was informed of their suspicions; at that point, I swore if she or the disgusting human who abused my child ever came within a foot of this place, I would bring down the fucking heavens on her.

  Making good on that threat wouldn’t have been a problem if I wasn’t under an unofficial form of house arrest. Most would consider this a step up from jail, but if most had met Levi Stone (I refused to call him my stepdad), they would know that prison would have been less damaging.

  But Stone and his penchant for beating on me was a different problem for a different day.

  Now, after five whole years of enjoying her coked-up life, Eliza was back, and rumor had it that she was back for our daughter.

  Over my dead fucking body.

  I didn’t believe the rumors. Eliza was only ever interested in money. I couldn’t pay her though because, as far as the world knew, I had none except for the allowance that my mother and Stone controlled until my parole was up. Plus, asking for money wasn’t Eliza’s style. Proving I was unfit to be a father and then weaseling child support money from my inheritance was more her style.

  I didn’t know how she planned on doing that, but I wasn’t going to risk Lila getting caught in the middle of it so I’d pulled her from daycare just to be safe. I didn’t trust Eliza not to do something insane.

  My jaw tensed over the whole fucked-up situation. I wasn’t fucking unfit; she was the unfit one. I just had no idea how to relate to a child. But I was learning. Slowly. And I was getting better; a year ago, Lila wouldn’t even let me hug her. Now, she just didn’t hug me back.

  “I need a teacher,” I said quietly, apprising him of my dilemma.

  “For what?” He scoffed. “To learn how to not be an asshole?”

  I remained silent, glancing over at my daughter who was absentmindedly chewing on the ear of her teddy bear. Carefree innocence.

  “I’ll be right back, Lila,” I murmured and walked into the kitchen where I didn’t need a filter.

  “Fuck you, Pride. No. I need a teacher for Lila.” I opened the fridge and pulled out a water bottle and a small carton of applesauce to take back in with me for her to snack on.

  “I thought she was going back to Tammy’s daycare.”

  “I can’t.” My fist pounded lightly on the countertop. “I can’t take the chance. Eliza will do something fucking stupid. I just… can’t. But I also need to do something. The fucking specter-inspector of death is coming back next week to meet the new private tutor that I’ve hired for Lila.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about Tammy?” he asked.

  I groaned. I’d just managed to get my mind off of her and her perfectly untouched body; pulling that wisp of hair out in front of her face was only the tip of the iceberg. Watching her body sway, bent over the table as she wiped it clean. Fuck if I didn’t want to lift that sweater, pull down her yoga pants and claim her ass right there in the damn coffee shop. No, the piece of hair was only the first crack of the chaos I wanted to inflict on her.

  “I just told you, I don’t want to let Lila out of—”

  “No,” he cut me off. “I meant what about hiring Tammy? To be Lila’s private tutor?”

  My dick swelled. Christ, I wasn’t winning dad-of-the-year anytime soon if the only reason I would even contemplate hiring a woman was because my dick wanted to privately tutor her pussy. But that was the first thing that I thought of.

  “I don’t want her knowing,” I ground out. “Jessa didn’t fucking say anything, did she? Or your sister?”

  “No. I told them not to,” he assured me. The fewer people who knew about Lila right now, the better. Pride let loose another sigh. “I can ask Jessa, but I don’t know of anyone else. I think there is one other girl that works with Tammy who might be interested, but I think Tam is probably your best option. And I don’t think she’s the type to go blabbing to the world that you have a daughter.”

  My teeth clenched together. I shouldn’t even let myself think about the possibility because there was a good chance my dick would be making the decision if I did.

  “Plus, Jessa said that she really loved working with Lila.”

  “Yeah,” I rasped. I’d heard enough. “Right. Okay. I’m going to go.”

  “I’ll let you know if I think of anyone else. You sure you’re good?”

  “Yeah.” And then I hung up, my elbows coming to rest on the counter as I hung my head between my shoulders staring down at the raging erection that would have reached out and touched the counter if my pants weren’t keeping it under control.

  Tammy. Here. Every day.

  Fuck. Why did she have to be exactly what I needed? And exactly what I needed for Lila? A deep crumbled piece of my soul whispered that she was the other side of my coin because she was also living a lie; she also showed the world only what she wanted us to see.

  “Daddy?” Lila’s curious voice filtered into the kitchen above Dory’s ramblings.

  “Coming,” I said back, willing my body to cooperate.

  Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays were Sofia’s days off—which meant that I would have to deal with my fucking blue balls until tomorrow when I could play Russian roulette with the numbers in my phone for which pussy was going to help me feel marginally comfortable again and allow me to focus on any other option that I had besides inviting Miss Priss into my life, my secrets, and my bed.

  Adjusting my dick in my sweats, I grabbed the carton of applesauce and walked back into the living room.

  “Dory forgot where she was again,” she murmured, clearly upset that I’d missed a scene that had happened several times already throughout the movie. For that face though, I felt like I’d committed the worst crime.

  “Sorry, Princess. I had to ta
lk to Uncle Chance.” I held out the applesauce like a peace offering and her face lit up on seeing the snack.

  Plopping back down onto the couch, I tugged my laptop back onto my lap. Lila began laughing and I couldn’t help but look up at the TV and watch as Dory kept mispronouncing ‘escape’ in an attempt to find the exit.

  There was no escape for me. I looked at my screen but lost myself again thinking about Tammy.

  What were the chances that I’d run into her at Cup of Joe while grabbing a hot chocolate for Lila? A fact that had almost slipped out of me by accident because I was forced to put every ounce of focus into restraining myself from hauling her over my shoulder and into the back of my truck.

  I wanted to taste every goddamn inch of her perfect, shimmering skin. No, I wanted to dirty her with my tongue, my teeth, and my dick. I wanted to see her—the woman who cleaned up after complete strangers—beg me to come all over her. I wanted to scrawl the word ‘dirty’ onto her stomach with my cum.

  I bit back a groan, my head falling back against the pillow behind me. Thank fuck I had the laptop over myself.

  She was fooling herself if she thought that her body wasn’t screaming to be destroyed by mine.

  And I’d be fooling myself to think that I could see her every day and not wind up with my dick inside of her—fucking every last sense and sensibility out of her proper little mind.

  JESSA

  Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you there?

  TAMMY

  Yes. It’s really fine.

  JESSA

  But you’re going to call me when you’re done, right?

  TAMMY

  I will let you know what happened, J. Stop mom-ing me—that’s my job.

  JESSA

  You rubbed off on me. What can I say?

  TAMMY

  Oh, did I? So, you’re cleaning up your La Croix bottles after yourself now? Lol

  JESSA

  *Embarrassed-face emoji.* Harsh.

  Ally wants us to go to the Snowmass Bash with her tomorrow. Check the group text.

  Wincing, I swiped back to our group message that I always kept on silent because some days, I finished work to find seventy-eight texts from my two best friends.

  ALLY

  Ladies! I forgot that the Snowmass Bash is this week! We should go tomorrow since we obviously missed tonight.

  I gnawed on my lip. I missed the days when Ally was living at her house and Jessa still lived with me—okay, maybe when Jessa was still at her apartment keeping her messy habits contained. I missed when our girls’ nights were comfort food and chick flicks at my place. I was a horrible friend. They’d both found love and my heart literally wept with happiness for them. But at the same time, our girls’ nights had turned into girls and guys nights. I missed them and I didn’t do well with change in case anyone hadn’t noticed.

  Sighing, I talked myself down from that anxious ledge. The Snowmass Bash was outside in copious amounts of space. Yes, there was drinking involved, but there was also hot chocolate and roasting marshmallows with my best girls.

  JESSA

  I’m fine with whatever. Is Emmett going?

  ALLY

  Yeah. Bring my brother.

  JESSA

  Like I could convince him to stay home without me lol

  ALLY

  Tam? You good for tomorrow?

  TAMMY

  Yeah. I think tomorrow would be ok.

  ALLY

  Yay!! I’m so excited!! *Smiley face emoji*

  JESSA

  Tammy, don’t forget to call me!

  ALLY

  About what?

  The conversation disappeared from my screen as a woman wearing a cowboy hat appeared; my mom was calling which meant that the friendly banter went on the back burner. But at least I’d deflected away from having to promise to call her as soon as I left; I had no idea what was in store for me in the next hour. And I just wasn’t in a position to make those kinds of promises.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Tam!” Eva Lucas’ exuberant voice came over the line. “How are you doing, honey? I haven’t talked to you for almost a week!”

  I groaned softly. That was only a long time for her once she realized how many days had passed. Eva Lucas was far too busy to think about the last time she’d called on a daily basis.

  My parents, Jack and Eva Lucas, lived on our family ranch just over the Colorado border in Wyoming. In addition to the horses, cows, chickens, two donkeys, three dogs, four cats, and one asshole of a cock (the rooster, of course), I was the oldest of seven brothers and sisters.

  Then came Lizzy, James, Kat, Easton, Mitchell, Jenny, and, bringing in the rear at a whopping seven years old was Trevor. They were not all my biological siblings. My parents were churchgoers first and ranchers second and when God called them to foster and adopt a child, they did; five times to be exact. It also was an easy decision since after James, my mom had several miscarriages—most likely due to the three previous difficult pregnancies combined with the physical stressors of running the ranch.

  Why did I always act like a mom? I grew up with seven siblings. Enough said.

  We all pitched in, but I was the oldest, so I was the one always left in charge. My parents were up and out tending to the animals before dawn every morning, which meant I quickly picked up how to handle a slew of rambunctious children.

  I had no explanation for how I’d become such an OCD clean-freak though. I mean, I grew up shoveling horse manure…

  “I’m doing good, Mom.” I smiled into the phone. I loved my mother—even if she was a spaz who most days had too many kids to keep all of their names straight. Being the first—and the first to leave—I no longer got called Lizzy fifty percent of the time.

  “When are you coming home? I know the season is ending down there, so I know you’ll have more time on your hands. And we could use those hands.”

  I laughed. “I think you have enough hands up there, Mom. But I’ll try to come up maybe next month.”

  “Oh, okay! That would be great. It’s James’—No… Mitchell’s birthday next month.” She huffed. “Someone’s birthday is next month and there’s going to be a party. Everyone would love to see you. It’s been too long since you were home last.”

  Case-in-point, I thought as I chuckled quietly to myself.

  She was right though, it had been too long since I was home. After Christmas, I’d been too busy with the daycare and teaching skiing over on the mountain. Plus, it seemed like any day that I was free, there was too much snow to make it a good idea to drive all the way up there.

  “I’ll look at my schedule and let you know. How’s Dad?” I asked, my brain on auto-pilot as I made the drive to the hospital that was becoming too familiar for comfort. At the McDonald’s, turn right. Then another right. Then left. Then wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

  “Oh, good. Driving me crazy. We got another donkey and he insisted that we name him Ricky. Well, Ricky and Lucy are constantly fighting for the attention of Marshall when we put them out with the horses…” She rambled on and I laughed to myself at how she managed to keep the names of all her animals straight, but not her children. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

  My smile dropped a little. My mom wasn’t pushy—she didn’t have time to be pushy. But it had come as a bit of a shock when I’d told them that I wanted to move down here to go to school. And then when I stayed for college… and after… I think she always figured it was because of some boy or another.

  “No, Mom,” I said patronizingly.

  “You know I’d just love some grandbabies,” she joked cheerfully.

  She didn’t know that it wasn’t a joke for me. I’d been diagnosed with endometriosis in college and I hadn’t told them; what was the point? It didn’t really affect them, and I didn’t know how it was going to affect me; it wasn’t like I’d found the one yet.

  “When you can remember each of your own children’s names, then I’ll think about adding more to the list,�
� I teased back, trying to forget that that might not be a possibility.

  “Tamsin!” she exclaimed, but then got distracted by some commotion in the background and the sounds of my sisters getting closer.

  “I’m driving, Mom. I’ll call you in a few and let you know when I’ll be home to visit.”

  “Oh, okay. Jenny! Why is Kat upset?”

  I shook my head, a twinge of homesickness rolling in my stomach. “Love you, Mom!”

  “Love you, honey!”

  The noises got louder just as I hung up. I was already in a group family chat with all nine of my family members (aside from Trevor who wasn’t old enough to have a phone), but at least that I could put on ‘Do Not Disturb.’ If one of them got on the phone (especially Jenny)… I’d be here until next Tuesday.

  Ten minutes early, just as planned. My oversized sweater caught on the edge of my purse as I got out of my car and stared at the ominous white building in front of me. It was the only place where everything was pristine, perfectly organized, and completely sterile; I should have loved it. Instead, I hated coming here.

  It reminded me only too much of myself.

  “I will be calm. I will be mistress of myself.”

  —Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

  THE SHARPEST WORDS CAN CUT you down, but they aren’t the ones that kill you.

  It’s the dull ones. The ones that don’t have malicious intent and yet their meaning accomplishes just the same. They wear at you, through you, the worn edge rubbing over and over and over again in the same spot until it finally draws blood. And then it repeats the process, only deeper.

  I’d always struggled when it came to that time of the month. And by struggled, I mean that every month the Texas Chainsaw Massacre went on inside of my uterus. The Tamsin Chainsaw Massacre. Blood. Guts. And days when I swore I was dying.