Love Story for a Snow Princess (Siren Publishing Classic) (13 page)

Caleb chuckled.

Paden’s arm slid around her waist and she glanced up at his chiseled profile. He stared pointedly at Caleb. “See you around, Caleb,” Paden murmured.

It was an obvious hint of his status in Thea’s life. Caleb chuckled again and nodded. He gave Thea a wink and walked away.

She slapped his stomach with the back of her hand.

“What?” he grumbled.

“No he-man stuff, okay?”

He only kissed her forehead.

Miki gave her a hard good-bye hug as Hank urged her into the plane. “You take care of her!” she told Hank.

“Thanks for your sisterly concern for my own welfare,” he teased her.

She punched him on the arm.

The door shut behind her, and Paden double-checked her seat belt.

“Last chance,” she told him.

He shook his head. “Actually, there’s no chance, Thea.”

It was a two-hour flight from Nome, Alaska to Anchorage, and then a nine-hour flight to Los Angeles. By the time they touched down, all they both wanted to do was collapse in exhaustion. Thea actually did conk out during the half-hour taxi ride from LAX to her house in Malibu. Paden roused her, and she paid the driver as he unloaded his trunk. When he sped off, Paden whistled as he took in the large house.

“Are you telling me you’re, like, superrich?” he mocked.

She shrugged. “Well, not yacht-status rich,” she teased back.

Her two-story, five-bedroom ranch nestled over a private bluff top overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and it had been a year since she’d been back. Thea had hired a company to pack up the house, either moving things into storage or dispersing them. She had donated a lot, but it still held a large California king which was all that was going through Thea’s mind at the moment.

Paden stood in front of the wall of windows, looking at the waves crashing against Point Dume and shook his head.

“I never imagined you living in a house like this,” he said.

“What do you mean? What type of house?”

“It seems very…sterile.”

She frowned and looked over the kitchen and dining room. Everything was white and stainless steel, and without the warm accents her mother had added, it did look slightly cold. “It used to be really nice,” she finally said. “There was always noise. We all lived at home, me, my brother and sister, so there was lots of activity.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I didn’t know what to do at first because this was where I grew up. All my family’s memories are here. But it’s not a home anymore, is it? At least, not my home.”

He came up and put his arms around her, holding her tightly. She leaned against him for a moment, taking his strength. “The one good thing is that I never got rid of the bed. Come on, I’m about ready to drop.”

* * * *

The next day, feeling refreshed, they headed out to Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California. The drive took over an hour and during most of it Thea sat in the passenger seat staring out the window, letting the GPS guide Paden. She saw the same landscape she had seen all her life, the bumper-to-bumper traffic moving at times quickly and other times at a snail’s pace. She couldn’t help but compare the openness of River Ice to the claustrophobic feel of Los Angeles.

Paden didn’t say much as he drove through the cemetery’s black gates, winding up the drive through the pristine, meticulously maintained lawn. All the gravestones lay flat, flush against the grass and soil. Thea led him up a hill, where her family’s graves rested in the sun.

Jason would have liked that
.

Thea brushed away some debris off his stone. He had been a swimmer and loved the sunshine. She carried two bundles of roses, as did Paden, and she laid one on each grave, brushing away dead leaves and grass.

“Ouch!” she hissed, bringing up her hand. Her middle finger had a bright splash of blood running down it, cut from some object on the grave marker.

She paled, wobbled a bit, and he reached out to steady her. But she only took a deep breath and turned her face away. “In my purse are a couple of napkins,” she told him, a little wisp of breathiness pinching through her words. “I don’t think I’ll ever like blood, but I promise I won’t faint.”

He wrapped up her finger as she faced away. When he went to step back, however, she grabbed his hand and brought him next to her.

“Mom, Dad,” she said, “This is Paden. He’s my…” She paused and looked at him. Paden raised an eyebrow. “He’s very special to me.” She smiled and looked back at the graves. “And I wanted you to meet him. He’s a good man, a graphic artist. He’s got fan pages following him.” She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “My dad would’ve thought that was cool.”

He smiled, gripping her hand tightly. He looked at the tombstones, the names and dates. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Snow. Hera and Jason. I’m Paden Patrick Poseidon Winters.”

“What?”

He gave an ironic shrug. “It’s a little known fact. But what else would you expect a man who makes boats for a living to name his son? At least my mother insisted it be somewhere as a middle name.”

Thea started laughing and suddenly, the sun shown a little warmer, the air blew a bit more crisp, and her heart beat a little lighter. She knew, somewhere in heaven, her mother was clapping her hands.

* * * *

They stayed in Malibu two more days. Thea contacted a realtor and put the house up for sale, taking care of all the details before she and Paden flew from Los Angeles to Miami, Florida. With each passing hour, Paden grew more and more quiet, pensive, staring at his hands and retreating inside his head. Thea didn’t interrupt him. She knew from firsthand knowledge that some things had be worked out alone.

When they arrived, a gentleman waited for them in baggage claim, a man who looked like a slighter older version of Paden. She hung back, watching as he greeted his father. They first shook hands but then the older man pulled Paden into his arms for a quick hug.

“Dad, this is Panthea Snow,” Paden introduced her. “Thea, my father, Grantley Winters.”

She shook his hand. Grant Winters covered the back of her hand with his, and she saw the flash of tears swimming in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered to her.

“For what?”

Grant turned his head and watched his son grab their suitcases off the revolving rack. “I haven’t seen my son in ten years. I haven’t even talked to him. Then one day, out of the blue, he calls me saying he wants his mother and I to meet a woman who’s very important to him. So, thank you, for bringing me my son.”

Warmth spread through her, happiness at hearing Paden felt like she was helping him.

She hadn’t been far off the mark about his superrich yacht status. Grant Winters had a car and driver which took them from the international airport to the luxurious suburb of Bal Harbour, to a house that made hers seem like a hobbit’s home. They passed through gated security and up a circular drive to a house shaded by large, heavy palms. The white house had dark accented trim and plants stashed in every available open space.

Paden’s mother, Darlene, waited for them at the open door. As petite as her husband was tall but shorter than Thea, which didn’t boast much. Yet what she lacked in stature she made up for in energy. The woman constantly moved. Though they had money, Darlene took care of her home as much as she could, relying only a part-time house cleaner to get to the places she couldn’t reach.

She embraced her son, tears running down her cheeks in happiness. Paden hugged her back tightly as he buried his face in the crook of his mother’s neck. It was almost too beautiful to watch. Darlene also gave Thea a tight hug before they went on a tour, even Paden, since it had been ten years since he had last seen his childhood home. Hardwood floors lined the house, rugs contrasting with the dark coloring. Art and photos graced the walls. Plants brought a touch of warmth as they walked through the den, eat-in kitchen, family room, formal dining room, and the library. Paden picked up one of his graphic novels and raised an eyebrow to his father. Grant Winters only shrugged good-naturedly.

Though the personal chef, Sylvia, cooked the dinner, the evening swam with a comfortable warmth. Salmon with dill and lemon juice baked to perfection. Vegetables, salad, rolls, all of it mouthwatering. Thea doubted she’d ever eaten so well. Afterward, desert and coffee completed the meal.

“We’re going to the prison tomorrow,” Paden announced after the rich chocolate cake had been served for desert. He just pushed his piece around on his plate.

“Why?” his father asked, startled.

Paden shot her a look and took her hand. “I need to confront him. I…need to show myself he’s not a monster, that he’s not my monster. Anymore.”

Thea squeezed back hard, giving him all her strength.

His parents didn’t question his decision, but she could see twenty-five years worth of sadness, frustration, and anger rolling in their eyes. They had done everything for him to protect him once they had gotten him back. Thea could see the idea of having their son go back to confront the monster who had taken him from them didn’t sit very well.

“I’ll go with you,” Grant said.

“No, Dad,” Paden said softly, shaking his head. He reached out and took his father’s hand. “You can’t protect me anymore. I love you, but I need to do this without you.”

A small tear drifted over Grant Winters’ weathered face. “I wish this had never happened to our family,” he said, his words heavy with bitterness.

“But it did, and I’ve been dancing around this for years. It’s time this man ends his hold on me.”

“Then you’ll take my plane. My pilot knows the route.”

Paden gave him a small nod.

The next morning Paden couldn’t eat anything. He was barely able to stomach half a cup of coffee before announcing it was time they left. Grant and Darlene watched them drive down the road, waving.

The driver took them to the airfield where Grant’s private plane waited, already prepped to go. The flight to Jacksonville only took an hour where another car waited for them. It took another hour to arrive on the lonely stretch of road that had nothing else but sign stretching over the road with the words “Florida State Prison” identifying it. Their driver pulled up to the guard shack where they were met with the Regional Director.

They were taken through several areas and several inspection sights, then passed through many metal detectors until they were finally escorted into the visitor’s area. Paden’s hands shook, and Thea took one in hers and held it tightly.

When Inmate number 348394 walked out, all the air left Paden in a whoosh. Thea didn’t know what to expect but the man brought before them was hardly a monster. In fact, he was barely more than a shriveled-up old man, one who had to walk slightly stooped from the chains around his feet linking up with his hands. His thinning, oily hair haloed around a large bald spot on top of his head. The large, bulbous nose had red bumps all over it, which extended over the bridge to his cheeks. He had the classic look of a man who had not taken care of himself at all, thin except with a paunch belly from a lack of muscle tone. His eyes were narrow, a faded brown, runny from age.

The man sat in front of a Plexiglas table and stared blankly at Paden. He reached over and pushed the button before he spoke. “Do I know you?”

Paden pushed his own button. “You don’t remember me?”

The man squinted and shook his head.

Paden pushed his button again. “I’m the Winters’ kid.”

The man’s eyes widened then went flat. He pushed the button. “I got nothing to say to you.”

Paden pushed his button. “But I got something to say to you. For twenty-five years you were a monster in my head, but actually, now that I see you, you’re just fucking pathetic, you know that? You’ve rotted away inside those chains. I used to wish for your death, but now I’m kind of glad you’re still wearing those nice bracelets.”

Cale Kritchkofen gave him the finger.

Paden snorted and hit his button again. “You really are a worthless piece of shit.”

He stood up, his hand clenching hers tightly. He gave one last look at the withered man, who sat in his chair shouting obscenities they couldn’t hear, and shook his head before turning to walk away.

“Are you all right?” Thea asked him as they rode back to the airport.

Paden had buried his face in his hands the moment the door had closed behind him. “I can’t believe I let that man claim my life for so long.”

“It’s over now.”

Paden looked at her. “Is it? Can my psyche suddenly just turn itself around? Forget? Now I’m magically healed just by telling a man to go fuck himself?”

Thea grabbed his hands. “Yes. If you’re willing to let him go.”

Paden frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes it’s really easy to hide behind the trauma.”

He jerked his hands from her. “Are you saying I want to keep cutting myself?”

“No, but…letting go is hard. Believe me. It took me a year.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the journey back to Jacksonville. The plane was waiting for them again, whisking them back to Miami where their driver brought them back to Bal Harbour. Paden disappeared into his room, leaving Thea to talk to his parents.

* * * *

Paden stood on the small patch of beach near his parents’ house, far enough from the water to not get his feet wet and yet close enough to hear the occasional break in the water as it crested. Breathtaking oranges and reds painted the horizon and bathed the land in burning streaks. Boats traversed the water, sending out gentle ripples that lapped hungrily at the sand.

Turmoil boiled through his mind because now he was free, or supposedly free. Truth be told, he did feel different, but could it be his mind playing tricks? He wanted to test if the invisible specter that had clung to him for years had suddenly vanished, but he was half-afraid to try. What if Thea had been wrong and all of this had been for nothing?