I step off the plane, surprised at how freaking cold it is.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. It’s Alaska, after all. People talk about how cold it is in Alaska, and the light lasts longer than it does down south, although in the winter it’s the opposite. But even knowing it’ll be cold, I just had no clue how to prepare.

I’m from Los Angeles. The sweater and sweatshirt I’m wearing are the heaviest articles of clothing I own. I’ve basically never experienced a cold day like this in my entire life, and it’s actually pretty surprising.

I’ve never left the city before. I’ve always wanted to, though I never pictured the first place I’d go would be Alaska. I always pictured Paris or London, not the frozen tundra, but here I am.

I head inside, following the crowd. Most people go toward baggage claim, but I have nothing to claim. I follow signs toward the busses and get in a queue of people waiting for a ride into the city, or at least that’s what I assume.

I don’t know anything about Alaska. I don’t have any money and I don’t know anyone here, but it’s far from home and it was the best I could afford with the money I had.

All that matters is that I’m not at home anymore.

It was a long trip. First we flew into Seattle, and from there we flew up to Juneau’s airport. As I climb up onto a bus and give the driver my last two dollars, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion.

But it’s not time for me to sleep, not yet at least. I need to get into the city and figure out what I’m going to do next.

I feel like a little girl as the bus heads down the road. There are so many trees, and there’s so much snow. I shiver slightly but fortunately the bus is heated. I know I need to get a heavier jacket, but I can’t afford one, not yet. I stuff my hands into my pockets and watch the trees flash by.

I’ve never seen so much wilderness in my whole life. It’s amazing, and it only gets more incredible. Soon the road bends its way toward the main city which sits on either side of a large river.

I stare at it, almost amazed. It’s a port city, which I didn’t really realize at the time. There are tons of boats in the water and a large bridge across the narrow portion. There’s more city across the way, and little houses dot the area.

It’s nothing like LA. Usually there’d be hundreds of cars on the road back home, but out here there are barely any. Juneau looks tiny compared to the crazy sprawl that is LA, but I actually love that about this place. It’s not some enormous place full of awful people, it’s just a small city making its way in a hard environment. Mountains rise up over one side of the city and the water borders the other, with Juneau nestled right in the middle.

I’m excited as the bus finally finishes its seven-mile drive and we’re dropped off in downtown. It’s about five in the afternoon though it’s already starting to get dark. I step off the bus and look around, trying to get my bearing.

It’s surprisingly cute despite the ugly weather. My shoes are definitely inadequate for this place, which is another thing I’ll have to upgrade once I get some money. That’s the first thing I need to figure out: where the heck I’m going to sleep and how I’m going to feed myself.

The first person I approach is an old man in a cable-knit sweater and a black jacket walking down the street. I head toward him, smiling and give him a little wave. “Excuse me?” I ask him.

He pauses. “Yes?”

“Is there a shelter in Juneau?” I ask him. “I mean, someplace I can sleep for the night.”

He frowns and starts walking away. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

I watch him go, surprised. Maybe he just doesn’t know where the shelter is. I know it’s a strange question to be asked by someone, but I don’t know what else to do. I can’t afford a hotel and it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to sleep outdoors tonight.

As the hours slip past and my fear and panic start to rise, I realize that sleeping outdoors might be exactly what I have to do.

Nobody wants to help me. Either that or nobody knows where a shelter might be. The sun begins to dip in the sky and the snow starts up sometime around ten that night. The stores all close their doors and people head inside, out of the ugly weather.

Which is how I find myself huddled in the doorway of a hunting store, trying to stay warm, terrified and alone.

This isn’t how I thought this would go. Truthfully, I didn’t really think too much about it. The only thing I knew was that if I stayed home, I was going to die. My father was going to come home drunk like he always does and he was going to beat me to death. I still have bruises on my body from the last time he decided to take his anger out on me.

I’m only nineteen. I barely graduated high school, and I definitely wasn’t going away to college. My mother died young and my father never really got over that. He works at the Post Office, trudging through his days and then getting drunk as hell at night. It’s only bad on the weekends though when he has time to stay out really late and get a real good load on. Then he likes to come home and take out his frustrations on me, his daughter.

At least he used to do that. For years I lived under his roof, taking his abuse, and I survived. My friends all went off to college, leaving me behind, and I endured another year of him. I got a part-time job and saved up some money, and the second I could afford a plane ticket, I bought one and left.

But I didn’t plan this very well. I was too upset, too angry, and my only thoughts were centered around getting out. Now that I’m out, I don’t know what I can possibly do to survive.

All I know is I won’t go home. Maybe I’ll freeze to death out here, but I won’t go back. I can’t let myself do that.

And so that’s how I spend my first hours in Juneau, huddled in a shop doorway, hoping I don’t die overnight, but knowing I’d rather freeze than face my abusive father again.

When the car stops, I watch it with suspicion, but I don’t for a second think it’s someone coming to help me. Too many people turned their backs on me already today, and I can’t get my hopes up.

But the man that gets out of the car and walks toward me is striking. He has snow blue eyes, a five o’clock shadow, and is incredibly handsome. He takes off his coat and offers it to me, and although I’m afraid and not sure I can trust him, I take it.

My heart is hammering when I get into the car with him. He doesn’t ask me what I was doing out there, which I really appreciate. I’m too cold to talk much.

His name is Carson, and he’s gorgeous. I can’t tell how old he is, probably in his thirties or maybe early forties. Either way, he’s fit, very fit. I can see the muscles underneath his perfect tailored suit. He clearly has money, since we’re being driven around in a gorgeous town car with an actual driver, and his clothing looks very expensive. I’m too grateful to press him though, since not long ago I was thinking about freezing to death out in the open.

We drive in silence for a bit and I keep stealing glances at him, trying to figure out what he wants. We’re getting deeper and deeper into the wilderness, heading up away from Juneau and into the mountains. I’d be afraid if this were anyone else, but for some reason Carson doesn’t strike me as a dangerous man. Capable and powerful maybe, but not dangerous to me. That sort of bad person wouldn’t help a stranger who was clearly in need the way he did.

And yet I can’t help but feel suspicious. I still don’t know him and I realize slowly that I don’t even know where we’re going. He says we’re going to his house, but I don’t know where that is.

After about a half hour of driving, I turn toward him. “How much farther?” I ask him.

He looks at me and smiles. “So now you’re talking.”

I shrug. “I was cold.”

“I bet you were. It’s probably another half hour.” He shrugs and looks outside. “We’re going slow because of the snow.”

I nod and watch him carefully, trying to look for any signs of danger, but there are none.

“Do you live alone?” I ask him.

He nods. “I do.”

“No family?” I blurt out, a little surprised.

He smiles. “I have a family, but no wife or kids, if that’s what you meant.”

“Sorry,” I stumble. “I didn’t mean to, you know.”

“Imply that I’m weird for not having a wife and kids?” He grins at me, leaning closer.

“No, I mean, yeah. I guess.”

“No offense taken.”

“Thanks for doing this,” I say. “You wouldn’t believe how many people ignored me today.”

“I would believe it,” he says. “Juneau is a hard town full of hard people. You don’t live out in this damn wilderness if you don’t have a little crazy in you.”

“Do you have a little crazy?” I ask.

He laughs softly. “A little, though probably not like what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” I admit. “I was too cold to do anything. I feel like I’m just coming alive now.”

“You look better already,” he says, studying my face. “Your color is coming back. Your eyes are beautiful, you know that?”

I blush a little bit. I’m used to that compliment, but it seems more real coming from him. “Thanks,” I say. “Your eyes are pretty too.”

“Oh, I know.” He grins at me again, so cocky and confident.

I blush again and look away, not sure what the hell I’m doing with this man. He’s a lot older than me, not quite old enough to be my dad, but definitely older than I’m used to dealing with. He’s handsome and smart in a way that I’m not used to. The boys I was interested in back home all look like insecure children compared to this man already, and I feel a thrill run down my spine.

We lapse back into silence as the car winds its way up through the mountains. He doesn’t press me for information and I realize that I’m still pretty cold and not interested in talking. Maybe I should be a little more grateful and friendly, but my toes are tingling and I’m just so exhausted from the trip. I’ll make it up to him soon. For now, I just need to rest.

Finally, there’s a slight break in the overwhelming claustrophobia of the wilderness. The trees press in on all sides, unrelenting in their ancient size, but soon they part. I look out the front windshield and blink, surprised at what I see.

Set in the side of the mountain is a gorgeous house. The front side of it is mostly glass, and the rest of it is constructed of modern looking wood and other materials. It’s the sort of house you only see in magazines and on the internet, and we’re slowly winding our way up toward it.

“Home sweet home,” Carson says.

“It’s amazing,” I say, genuinely shocked.

“Thanks,” he says. “It’s one of the perks.”

I cock my head at him. “Perks of what?”

“You’ll see eventually.” He turns back toward the window and doesn’t elaborate.

My heart beats faster in my chest and I look back at that beautiful glass house. It’s in the middle of nowhere. We haven’t passed another house for at least ten minutes, maybe even longer, which means we’re totally secluded out here.

I’m stuck with this man whether I want to be or not. I can’t get away from him, and the snow is coming down heavily enough to make it impossible for me to get away. If he ends up being some kind of killer or rapist or something, I’m totally screwed. Maybe I just went from one bad situation to another.

But as soon as his eyes lock onto mine, I’m not sure what to think. Maybe he’s a killer, but he’s the most handsome killer I’ve ever seen.

This is what’s happening. I can’t escape. I bet he’d let the driver take me back to the city, but there’s nothing back there for me. At least here I won’t freeze to death.

And plus, I’m interested in this man. What kind of person can afford a place like this? I want to know who he is and why he’d help me like that. I feel drawn toward him in a way I can barely explain.

The car pulls up toward the house and ahead there’s a garage door slowly opening up, set back into the rock underneath the main building. I feel like we’re being swallowed up by something, and it only makes me that much more excited.