Free Snow Bound by Dani Wade Page B

shivering in the closed- up chill of the room. After relieving herself and checking on the dripping faucet to make sure the water hadn’t frozen over the last few hours , she went downstairs to check on the fire.
    The embers glowed in the darkness.
    The shadowy room, dark and still, brought an awareness of exactly why Damon was upstairs. She’d walked through this room her entire life, but suddenly it wasn’t anything like the house she’d grown up in. Shaking her head, she forced herself to take a step, then two, away from the stairwell. Each one became easier, until she’d reached the wood pile next to the fireplace. The mundane task o f building up the fire settled the ominous feelings. No doubt the fight with Damon— and her trust y shotgun—had run Bobby Joe off.
    Heck, it probably hadn’t been Bobby Joe , just some opportunistic criminal thinking he could hole up in her house during the snowstorm. That wouldn’t make her feel better, except he’d have no reason to stick around once he realized she wasn’t alone.
    “Havin’ fun, Victoria Jane?”
    She froze, assaulted by the memories of the last time she’d heard that voice. From the courtroom in Nashville , screaming out his anger and intent for revenge. This could not be happening. Her heart regained its rhythm. She forced herself to breathe, then turned slowly to face the hulking shadow that separated itself from the gloom near the kitchen doorway.
    A hard swallow loosened her throat enough for her to speak, though her voice was thr eady from fear. He looked even angrier with the bruises forming on his face. “Bobby Joe . What are you doing here?”
    “Didn’t I tell you I’d be back?” A smile, mocking for its lack of warmth, stretched his lips. His face was no longer softened by youth, but hard angles and planes. Brown hair spiked close to his skull, as if it were growing out from a tight buzz cut. But the things that scared her the most were the menacing hardness in his once-familiar brown eyes and the obviously developed muscles under his white thermal shirt. He’d definitely put the long hours in prison to s ome use, keeping himself in tip- top shape.
    His state of undress, just the shirt and jeans, without the bundling of layers he’d need if he’d just come from hours spent outside, stopped her heart for a moment. “Making you rself at home?” she asked, her gaze sweeping over his clothes.
    That creepy grin remained firmly in place. “Why shouldn’t I, Victoria Jane? No need for me to stand out in the cold, freezing my ass off, while you’re upstairs fucking that busybody from next door. Lowered our standards, have we?”
    Unfortunately he sounded way too hopeful. And the thought of him watch ing while she and Damon had sex nauseated her . This had been the most exciting night of her life, and now it was tainted by the idea that it had been shared— with the jackass that had ruined her life once before.
    “How did you get in here?” she asked, more to keep the conversation going than anything. Though if she made it out of this alive, she’d be nailing every loose door tighter than Dick’s hatband.
    He stepped fa rther into the light from the now crackling fire. “I remembered where your d ad kept the spare key for the cellar. Guess you didn’t get around to changing the locks when you did the renovations on this place, huh?”
    Panic rose , her heart beating loud in the silence of the house. As Bobby Joe moved forwar d, he kept himself angled so the staircase was in view. T he shotgun was still upstairs . Now she faced a man almost one hundred pounds heavier than her, intent on revenge, with no weapon and Damon lying unaware upstairs. Should she call for help? Was there some way to get out of this without it turning violent?
    Memories of the men tumbling around her backyard, exchanging punches, gave her the answer. She was screwed unless she found a way to outwit the menacing man in front of her.
    Maybe she could keep him