Sam's Secret (Icehome)

Prologue

SAM

I breathe through my nose. Short, shallow breaths. I clutch the kitchen knife against my chest, but I know it's not enough. It's never enough.

I'm going to die. If not tonight, then tomorrow night. Or the night after. Brad's going to come after me. I know this, and I know I won't be able to stop him. I've taken self-defense classes and I'm armed, but Brad's an MMA fighter. He'll take me down without batting an eye. Funny how I thought dating an MMA fighter was going to be really hot two years ago.

Not laughing now.

I've left the restraining order paperwork tacked to the refrigerator with a kitchen magnet. When the police find my body—and I'm sure they will—maybe they'll realize he's been serious all along. I've called and called and called, but no one does anything. They show up, they chase him off, and then the same story happens the next night. Or he goes out and gets drinks with the cops, since some of them are his friends or fans of his bouts. No one seems to realize that he's harassing me, that he's threatened to kill me if I “flirt” with anyone at work.

And because I work at a coffee shop, and some of the customers are male, that counts as flirting.

My cellphone buzzes with an incoming text, but I just close my eyes and lean back against the closet wall, hidden amongst my winter sweaters. I've taken to sleeping in the closet because it's another locked door between us—not that it'll do much good. I don't check the text—I know it's just another angry message from Brad.

Brad, who thinks he owns me. Brad, who ignores restraining orders and my requests for him to leave me alone and get out of my life. I've already moved across town twice, but every time, he gets my address and follows me, and I don't have the money to move again.

My phone buzzes angrily again, and I clutch the butcher knife tighter against my chest. I don't cry. I'm past tears.

I'm just...tired. Tired and scared and resigned, but mostly tired.

It's while I huddle in the closet that I smell something strange. It smells like...chemicals, and just as I notice it, my head grows heavy. Did...he drug me? Is that how he's going to take me out?

The door to the closet opens as if it wasn't locked, but instead of Brad standing there, it's a strange, spindly figure with a large head, surrounded by light. A bird trills.

I pass out.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," calls out a cheerful voice.

My head throbs, and my mouth tastes like a sweat sock. I groan, trying to orient myself. My eyes feel heavy. So heavy. My skin feels damp, too, which is strange.

"Be nice, Liz," a woman hisses.

"Oh, come on. Who doesn't like eggs and bacon?"

"Everyone likes them! But we don't have either! All we have is jerky and trail mix."

"Yeah, but those don't rhyme." The warm hand taps my cheek again, reminding me just how cold the rest of me is. "Wake up, honey. Time's a wasting and we've got six other people to wake up."

I moan, trying to open my eyes. They feel crusty and heavy, and I wipe them clean as I blink. Am I in the hospital? But when my blurry eyes focus, I see two smiling faces—a redhead with freckles wearing a fur coat, and a lean-faced blonde with a puffy white fur hat. They both smile at the sight of me, and then something moves behind them.

It's...a devil.

My eyes bug, and I sit upright, trying to back away. I scramble to find my knife, but my hands feel as if they're wooden blocks, and I can't find anything at all. I touch nothing.

The blonde turns her head and glares at the devil nearby. "Stay back, Raahosh. You're scaring her."

The scarred devil scowls at her but moves away, and I notice as he retreats that he's got horns and a loincloth…and not much else. I gasp in shock, and my breath puffs in front of my face. Not summer. Cold.

Real cold.

I blink again, staring.

"You're with friends," the freckled woman says sweetly, a smile on her face. "I promise you're with friends."

"Where am I?" I ask. My mouth feels dry and strange.

Freckles bites her lip. "Sooo…there's good news and bad news. Which one do you want?"

Oh god. I've had enough bad news to last me a lifetime. What is it now? I've somehow been re-located somewhere? Brad kidnapped me and left me in a freezer with these other women? And I'm…hallucinating? Because I'm pretty sure the blue devils that wander around in the background are not real. They can't be. "Good news," I decide. "Tell me the good news."

Her smile brightens. "You are completely, utterly safe and with friends. I know the big blue guys look a bit alarming, but I can reassure you that everyone here just wants your absolute well-being. We're going to help you adjust."