Page 50 of Frost
That ache in my chest returns at the memory of me and Jack down by the river.
“You have?” Dad asks. “When you were at the cabin?”
“Yeah.” I avert my gaze to the bookcase. “Let’s get this done so we can eat. I’m starving.”
***
Fishing with my dad makes me feel better. I don’t catch anything—no surprise there. I inwardly chuckle when I remember me telling Jack I would’ve been able to catch a bunch of fish if I had a pole instead of a spear.
Boy was I wrong. Sad truth of the matter is I just suck at fishing.
Dad catches some white perch, and we take them back to the house to prepare for dinner.
“I didn’t know you could gut a fish,” he says, impressed.
“A friend taught me how,” I respond with a sad smile, feeling that bone-deep ache again.
Will it ever go away?
“Did you boys hear?” Mom asks, popping her head outside where we’re gutting and cleaning the fish on the back patio. “The groundhog didn’t see his shadow. That means an early spring. Winter’s almost over.”
As the sun warms my face, I feel like winter’s already left.
“Bah.” Dad flicks his hand. “I don’t believe in that superstitious nonsense. Winter will stay as long as it needs to.” He bumps my arm. “Especially if your Jack Frost has anything to say about it.”
MyJack Frost. I only wish he were mine.
“Definitely,” I say, faking a smile.
When I get home that night, I take a shower and change into sweats and a hoodie before grabbing my laptop and cuddling up on the love seat in the corner of my office. My back is sore from all the home projects I’ve helped Dad with over the past few days, so I choose comfort over sitting at my desk. I emailed my manuscript to my publisher already, but I started writing the next book because ideas poked at my brain. It will be the final book in the series.
Jack Frost’s adventures have finally come to an end.
I have to let him go.
I write for a few hours, then go down into the kitchen for a glass of wine. It’s after eleven at night, so my assshouldbe in bed, but I’m too fidgety. Too restless. I drink a glass, then tug on my coat and go out onto the back porch. Neighbors are on both sides of me, but there’s nothing behind my house but trees. I stand on the patio and breathe in the crisp air.
A heavy flapping sounds from straight ahead, and a shape passes across the dark trees.
“Págos?” I whisper in shock. I take off running toward the back fence that stops at the tree line. The ice Pegasus lands in front of me and tucks his wings at his sides. Hesitantly, I reach toward him. “Hey, boy. Why are you here?”
He buts my hand with his muzzle and stomps once. Worry trickles through me.
“Is Jack okay?”
Págos bites the sleeve of my coat and yanks me to the side. He wants me to get on his back. If Jack’s in trouble, I don’t even need to think about it. I hop up onto the horse’s back and take hold of the icy locks of his mane.
“Take me to him.”
Chapter Twelve
I lose track of how long we’re in the air. My face is frozen, and my hands are so cold they hurt. Riding Págos without Jack to make sure I don’t fall off is fucking scary. But what’s scarier? Not knowing if Jack is okay.
On the list of Págos’ favorite people, I’m pretty much at the bottom. So, it must be bad for him to come find me.
After what feels like forever, Págos descends toward the ground. I tighten the hold with my legs and grip the icy strands of his mane, hoping I don’t fall to my death. I can tell he’s careful about how he lands. Maybe he likes me after all.
Even in the dark, I recognize where we are. Jack’s cave. I run toward the entrance and dash inside the narrow tunnelway.
