“Or nothing,” the twink says, putting more force into his shove to get the asshole out of my face. When he stumbles back a few feet, Twink turns back to me. “I’m sorry about him.” He bends as if to pick up some thousand-hour candles. “He’s?—”
“Don’t apologize for me, Remington,” Asshole McGee says, grabbing the twink’s arm and pulling him back roughly. “And he doesn’t need your help. It’s his fucking job. Maybe he can see the shit on the ground better than he saw me.”
With that, he yanks on the smaller man’s arm, almost causing him to trip over his feet. Before they hit the end of the aisle, the smaller man—Remi—turns to me and mouths, “Sorry again.”
I let the amiable expression drop from my face and close my eyes, trying to calm down before I fucking lose my shit. I moved to this small, almost sleepy tourist town so I wouldn’t be tempted to choke people out, but that douche really tried it. If he’d pulled that shit two years ago, he’d have been bleeding out before he could shoot me that smug fucking smile.
But I told myself that when I moved here, I’d turn over a new leaf. No killing anyone just because they pissed me off. I wanted to keep a low profile and not drop bodies in a town where not much more than shoplifting happens. So far, I haven’t wanted to slit anyone’s throat, but Asshole McGee came closer than anyone has in years.
For the rest of the shift, I try to push down my rising anger, but it’s hard. Knowing that someone got away with talking to me like that doesn’t sit well with me. I’m not a “turn the other cheek” kind of guy, but if I want to live a normal life, I have to be.
That pisses me off even more.
Not even my Baddies can get my mind off Trevor and his smart-ass mouth.
When I’m done with the stocking, I break down the boxes and take them to the back. I let Mr. Wilson know I’m leaving—getting a head nod in return—Janet Jackson crooning in my ear. But even her sultry vocals can’t get me out of my pissy mood.
God, I really want to kill that fucking guy. More than I’ve wanted to take a life in years. No one talks to me like that and gets away with it.
It wouldn’t be hard to get up to the top of the mountain before it storms, kill that douche and his little twink—no witnesses—then go home like nothing happened. With the snow coming, they wouldn’t be found for weeks.
The cold air whips over my face as I exit the store, helping to clear my mind and calm my red-hot anger. It wouldn’t be smart to kill someone here. I’m trying to start fresh, no bodies in this tourist town because of me.
I’m starting to calm down when two things happen that have my anger shooting through the fucking roof.
When I get in my car, my AirPods dies just when Janet is asking if someone wants to taste her. I grunt, irritated that my shit died so abruptly. Then I turn the key in the ignition and my radio is turned up to full fucking blast.
Playing “All I Want For Christmas.”
With anger coursing through my veins, I turn the volume knob so hard to the left that it pops off in my hand.
“Fucking shit!” I curse, throwing the bit of plastic against the windshield, where it breaks into pieces and tumbles over the dashboard.
I reach into my glove compartment and snatch out the wired headphones I have stashed there for emergencies.
Jamming the plug into the phone port, I seethe as I try to get Janet to calm me down, but it’s no use. Dead AirPods, shittyfucking song setting my mood off, and thatfuckingasshole coming into my store with his bullshit?
Fuck it, Douche and his twink are fucking dead.
2
REMI
Maybe Trevor isn’t bringingme here to apologize after all.
My eyes flick to the cars parked in front of the cozy little wooden cabin tucked away in the dense trees, then to the gray clouds hovering above us. Not only are his asshole friends here—I recognize their flashy cars—but I know I’m right about the weather.
I’m going to end up getting snowed in at some small cabin with Trevor and his frat-boy buddies, and he isn’t even here to tell me he’s sorry.
I knew this weekend was a bust, but I’m a pushover. I’ve always been one—a people pleaser, ready to do whatever it takes to follow the path of least resistance. I would probably still have come, even if he’d told me he was going to invite all his friends.
It’s why I’ve broken up with Trevor five times, and we’re somehow here. At this cabin. So he can make it up to me.
When it’s going to snow.
God, I’m probably going to get trapped up here for weeks with a bunch of assholes, and we’re all going to starve to death, and the last person who will remember my face is a store clerkwho looked like he was ready to quit his job over how big an asshole my not-boyfriend was to him.
At least if I have to die, I’ll be remembered by someone handsome. That guy at the store had been… well, he’d been perfect, honestly. He was all lean muscle and blond hair. Even in the fluorescent lighting, his eyes had been this gorgeous golden-brown that I could have gotten lost in if I’d let myself. He was all full lips and a sharp jawline…
