Page 132 of Frozen Hearts
“Holy shit!” Half the food in my arms goes tumbling to the ground as my heart slams like a jackhammer against my ribs.
Grayson slowly stalks into the light of the kitchen, not the slightest bit perturbed by the heart attack he nearly gave me.
“Jesus. Warn a girl next time before you sneak up on her.”
“Maybe if you weren’t inmykitchen, I wouldn’t have had to sneak up on you.”
“Maybe ifyouweren’t holding me hostage, I wouldn’t be in your kitchen,” I snipe back.
What did Logan say about antagonizing Grayson? Oh, yeah.Notto do it.
Pursing my lips, I take a deep breath through my nose before slowly letting it out as I set the things in my arm on the counter and bend to retrieve whatever dropped.
“I’m making a sandwich for dinner. Would you like one?”
See! Look at me being all polite to the douchecanoe who is holding me captive.
My question doesn’t seem to warrant an answer since he doesn’t respond.Whatever.I go about making one for myself, choosing instead to leave the bread and condiments out so he can help himself before I sit down at the breakfast bar with my plate.
I have the sandwich poised halfway to my mouth when he makes his move.
“Hey!” I yell when he steals it right out of my hand, stuffing the entire thing into his fat mouth.
His face scrunches. “Butter instead of mayo? Seriously?”
“I like butter!” I snap. Refusing to point out that it’s cheaper so it’s what I’m accustomed to. Besides, it can’t be that bad since he chews the entire thing instead of spitting it out.
“Of course you do. It’s all sweet tasting, luring you in. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, it’s clogging your arteries and lining your cells with fat.”
I’m sorry, does he think mayo is a healthy alternative? Dude needs some nutritional education if that’s the case.
“Grayson,” I sigh, shaking my head. “You can’t blame me just because you’ve put on a few pounds since the last time I saw you.”
He slams his hand down on the table beside my empty plate, causing it to rattle as I jump. “Youare a cancer, destroying everything you touch. First my family, and now my friends. What will you take next, eh?”
“I didn’ttakeyour family, Grayson. And I’m not trying to steal your friends either.You’rethe one that broughtmehere. That chuckedmeinto your life again and isforcingme to remain in it. If you have such a fucking problem with me being here, then why don’t you let me leave?!”
His hand comes up quicker than I can process, grabbing me by the back of my neck and forcing me to my feet. “You want to leave?” he snarls as he drags me out of the stool and across the kitchen.
“Grayson!” I try to grab at his hand, but it’s futile. “Let go! You’re hurting me!”
He doesn’t listen to my pleas as he throws open the back door and shoves me through it. Crisp, cold air circles around my wrists and ankles, and my breath fogs in front of my face.
“Then leave!” Using his grip on the back of my head, he thrusts me forward and I stumble before righting myself. “Go!”
I blink at him, only faintly aware of the frigid night air brushing against my skin and eliciting goosebumps in its wake. “What the fuck are you waiting for?” he yells. “GO!”
I blink at him for another second before taking off.
Fuck that shit, and fuck him. I needed out of that house anyway. I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Except I’m in their enclosed backyard. Brick walls line the boundary between their neighbors, with a privet hedge backing onto a field at the end of the garden. That’s what I aim for, figuring I can probably find a spot to climb through and circle around to the street out front.
I don’t make it more than a handful of steps before Grayson’s cutting tone slices through the crisp winter night. “Tick-tock, Riley. You’ve got ten seconds to find a way out before I drag you back inside. This time, I’ll gag you so you can’t use that smart mouth of yours.”
What the fuck? This isn’t him showing mercy. He isn’t letting me go. He’s playing with my fucking head. This is a mind game.
Realizing I’m not being set free, but rather hunted, adrenaline floods my body and I pick up my pace as I jog toward the hedge and begin to run along it, searching for a gap.
Halfway along, I notice one large enough for me to squeeze through, and grateful for the sweats and hoodie I’m wearing, I wiggle through the hole. The hoodie catches on a sharp thorn, tearing the fabric, but thankfully, it misses my skin, and I drop down onto the field on the other side.
