Snowed In With The Billionaire

Episode 3

Chasing Shadows

"Do not you dare let go, Rory? Stuck tightly.

She hears me even though I can scarcely hear my own voice above the engine roaring and the shrieking storm outside. Tires screeching as I turn the SUV into another dangerous angle struggle against the snow-packed road. I tighten the wheel and knuckles turn white. The car behind us is relentless; its headlights still flicker across the rearview mirror, always reminding us of the dream.

As Rory holds the armrest next to her, her knuckles whitening, eyes wide, terror and adrenaline flashing in her view. I get a quick look at the woman I once knew—the one who used to stare at me with a combination of affection and contempt for my reckless driving. But it was in bygone years. Before things came apart between us.

Right now, there just is tension. A dread. target. And in the past we cannot run at speed.

Cole, we should call off here. We are unable to run endlessly. Her voice cracks, yet something in it appeals to me—something between determination and fear. I want to calm her down. I am not able to reassure her everything would be well, even if I would like. Not now, not even sure myself.

My pulse hammering in my chest, I stare at her. Her face is pale under the dim light of the dashboard, but her eyes ignite. I had seen it before—that rebellious flame she carried around all the time. It drove me crazy, but right now it's the only thing allowing me to stay in touch with reality.

Grumbling with clenched teeth, "Rory, please," I say Only depends on me. I am convinced I am acting correctly. First we have to lose him. If we stop, he will record us.

Her grasp becomes tight.Cole is someone else. There is someone following us. I have to find out.

My mouth shuts tightly. Not yet, I cannot respond to her. Not until I absolutely know her safety. She is due to know the truth, though. Simply said... I can't remember the terminology. The past is too distorted, too full with falsehoods, betrayal, and s*******r. I also want her to keep away from it. She is already in it, though, independent of my best attempts to protect her. She has always been like this.

Tell you when I can; I grit out, attempting to focus on the road. Not right now.

Her face grows firm; I know she won't let this pass. She hardly does.

Hope we will be far enough away before they turn around, therefore I push the SUV more. But time is running short; the storm is coming in and visibility is declining by the second.

Her voice sharp with scepticism, she says quickly, "You're not fooling me, Cole." You are not giving me material here. From your past. Something about him is appealing.

I quickly glance at her and feel guilt surge through me. She goes overfit. Her sharp intelligence will enable her to piece the fragments together; when she does, she will be far more susceptible than she is right now. That cannot be allowed to happen. Not when I am already extending the bounds of what I am ready to gamble with.

Frustrated and driven to keep you safe, I snarl: "You have no clue what I am fighting for. Too much I already have lost. Neither can I let you go.

She flinches at the thought of losing her, and I back off from the words fast. As it happens, though, it is reality. I negotiate this existence; it is dangerous. Someone like her deems it too dangerous. Someone trying merely to move on. To build again. To lead a peaceful life. One someone deserving of peace.

She responds angrily, "You don't get to tell me what I deserve." Her voice picks up. "You are not guarding any fragile woman here. Cole, I am not your responsibility. I can keep myself under control.

Her remarks are what I need to hear even though it sounds like a slap. She is right and that stings. She is not the young fearful lady I left behind many years ago. She is direct. more than I could match her with.

Simply expressed, I want her to stay away from seeing the darkness I have grown. She should not be trapped in the mess of my life, the twisted web of power, revenge, and secrets I have been caught in for years.

But even with my best efforts, I can't get rid of the impression though—that she already knows. She comes to see me as I am already.

You are right; my voice suddenly seems weaker. That does not suggest, though, that I desire to see you hurt.

Between us, the words hang like still tension. Her eyes reflect the same kind of struggle I have been battling for too long. She wants to be absolutely mad with me at least. She wants to hate me for what I did. For what I omitted to do. Still, I can see it too. She still undergoes something. That drew in. This link.

And God help me; I also sense this.

Right as I round another turn, I see something in the rearview mirror. The car is on its way. quite close. Much too close.

Slamming on the brakes, I swerve the car into the frozen trees on the side of the road. The tires spin to produce a snow spray in every direction. Along with the earth rotating on its axis, Rory lets out a sharp gasp right next to me; I pause. I couldn't.

"Hold on!" I yell, my voice scarcely audible above the sound of the snowstorm crash and motor.

The car follows us just as I had imagined it—undetermined, tenacious. Panic wriggles at my chest, my heart beats. I now run out of time. Right now I have few options.

I can not run ahead of him. I am not giving up yet either. Not right now.

Ahead lies a blocked road. One needs to quickly turn around a fallen tree across the road. I yank the wheel when the automobile slides on the ice ground. The wind yells more and the snow flourishes around us like a blinding wall. I still have control even if, for a moment, I think we may crash.

I have not much time to give it thought. The car is becoming uneasily close. Not that far away is it.

I have to choose something. Swiftly.

"Breaking down!" Frantic in voice, I call Rory. She is confusedly peering out the window already.

"Cole—." The truck's headlights dazzle me; I know it's too late before she can say another word.

From behind, the car bangs into us with great resonance over the air. The touch searing my chest, the seatbelt sends us startling forward. Rory screams as we are pushed ahead; the SUV goes off the road and rushes into the forest.

Everything is dark for one brief moment.

Then the planet whirls back into focus.

My eyesight is hazy, my head is thumping. Rory's body weighs on mine, and her sharp breath intake. I have to visit her; I'm not sure if she's dead or living.

But before I can start going, I first hear footsteps breaking across the snow.

One is starting to arrive.

My heart hammering in my chest, I stare at Rory. Her eyes cover wide terrain marked by terror. I cannot let her know, though, how afraid I am.

I mumble quickly, "Stay down," pressing my finger to my lips. "Don't travel."

She nodded, her body shaking with dread, but said nothing.

The steps became more forceful.

I know the people getting he

re. I also realise I might not survive this.