Today is the day! Cold Room is in the JMS Books Advent Calendar. 

Every day, one previously unpublished LGBTQIA+ book is offered for FREE over at JMS Books from 12:00 AM EST to 11:59 PM EST. You can’t go back – if you’ve missed the free book, you’ve missed it – and you can’t open doors in advance, so check every day!  

Today, it’s my turn. Cold Room is hiding behind door number eighteen. It’s a sequel to Frostbite, so I suggest you read it first, but you do you. 

It’s a contemporary, established couple, kidnapping story with some guard fish. Can’t be without badass fish who keep guard, it’s common knowledge, people! 

Grab it here! 

Cold Room

Kidnapping isn’t as exciting as it’s made out to be—especially not when your unhinged ex is doing the kidnapping.

All Noel Chance wanted was to leave the boring Christmas party he was attending and go home to pet his Siamese fighting fish, Fluffers, and cuddle up in bed with his overprotective boyfriend, Detective Bo Nicholas. Waking up tied to a chair in a cold room was never part of the plan.

What does his ex want? For them to stage a rescue and for Noel to turn him into a hero via Noel’s true crime podcast. Noel doesn’t see another way out, so he plays along while plotting his escape.

Luck is on Noel’s side, and he manages to escape, only to realize he’s in the middle of nowhere, running on his socks in the snow, and his ex has not only stolen his shoes but also the key to his apartment. Fluffers is in danger, Noel can feel it in his too-cold bones. Will he make it back into town in time to save his fish?

Chapter 1

There was an annoying sound, a chattering, drilling into Noel Chance’s brain, forcing him to fight off the heavy sleep paralyzing him. 

Why didn’t he wake up? 

The sound continued for a short time longer, then Noel lost his hold on reality, and everything turned dark again. 

The next time he almost woke, the sound was there again, but it was more than a sound. He could feel it in his teeth. Vibrations were spreading through his cranium. 

He forced his eyelids open, but it was of no use. Either he was in a pitch-black space, or he was dead. It was as cold as a grave. Colder, if he was to guess. 

The sound stopped when he stopped chattering his teeth. 

What the fuck was going on? 

If he were dead, should he be aware of being cold? Would he be aware at all? 

He tried to remember things about himself. His name was Noel Chance. He was thirty-five years old—and since he could put an age on himself, it had to mean he was still alive, right? 

He was the proud owner of Fluffers, a Siamese fighting fish, who’d been his life companion for the last few years. He was dating Bo Nicholas, the super-hot but also most annoyingly overprotective man he’d ever known. 

It only bothered him half of the time. 

Where was Bo? Sometimes they spent the night apart when Bo had to work, but most often he came crawling into bed at some ungodly hour. 

Noel’s brain was too fuzzy to think clearly. Had he gone somewhere with Thea? 

Thea was his best friend, and they had a cold case podcast together called Chance Leads after their last names—Noel Chance and Thea Leads. 

The podcast… 

His head throbbed in protest as he tried to form coherent thoughts. It was something with the podcast, wasn’t it? 

His teeth were chattering again without his permission. He wished he could do something to warm up, but his limbs were too heavy to move. 

Where was he? 

He closed his eyes. It didn’t change a thing. It was equally dark whether he had them open or not, and his eyeballs were throbbing from the worst hangover he’d experienced in his adult life. 

Hungover. Noel was a big fan of red wine, chocolate, and murder boards, but he never drank enough to get drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hungover. 

But he’d been at a party, hadn’t he? The podcast. No, not something to do with the podcast. 

Pain sliced through his brain as he tried to remember. 

The office had a Christmas party. Most years, he made up some excuse not to go. He hated his boring admin job, and his work colleagues were idiots, but he had gone this year. 

Fuzzy memories formed in his mind, and he hissed as the throbbing in his eyeballs increased. 

He’d gone. Bo was busy with some work thing but had encouraged him to go—stupid. They should’ve known something would go wrong if he went to a party without him or Thea. 

It surprised him he’d gotten drunk, though. He remembered turning down a beer because he didn’t want to drink any alcohol. 

The new girl, Yara, had given him a to-go cup with coffee. He hadn’t asked for coffee, but she’d insisted it was for him, and he didn’t want to be rude. 

He groaned. He never cared about whether he was rude or not at work, but he liked her way more than he liked any of the others. He didn’t know her. She’d only been there for two weeks, but something about her reminded him of Thea. 

The thought of the coffee had nausea rolling over him. 

He tried to turn over, only to have the room spin, or was it the darkness that spun? 

His limbs were stuck. 

A whimper manifested as he tried to move his hands, only to realize they were behind his back. 

He was sitting up. 

A new wave of nausea washed over him. Had he been sitting up the entire time? He’d believed he was in bed. Or no, he hadn’t. He’d been thinking about Bo coming to bed, but this dark, cold realm wasn’t his bedroom. It wasn’t Bo’s bedroom either. It didn’t smell like Bo’s house. 

He couldn’t describe the scent of Bo’s house. It smelled of peace and safety. 

Bo had asked him to move in with him a few times, but Noel wasn’t sure Fluffers was ready for the change. 

Noel was a responsible pet owner and would never want to cause Fluffers any stress. Bo had rolled his eyes when he’d told him, but he’d gotten a kiss shortly after, so he believed they’d agreed. 

It was unfair to trap Bo in that sort of commitment. He had yet to grasp the burden and joy you took on as a fish owner. Noel had walked into it with open eyes, had realized his life would be forever changed, but as far as Noel knew, Bo had never had a pet. 

He loved Bo, but it also meant he never wanted to tie him down. Bo needed to be free, and Noel was well aware how much of a burden Fluffers and he could become. No, it was better they had their own places. 

Plus, Fluffers was getting old. 

Noel had gotten him right after he’d broken up with Kyle fucking Stephens—or in all honesty, it was Jack, his dad, who’d broken up with Kyle. Which was three and a half years ago, and Siamese fighting fish had an expected lifespan of two to five years. 

Fear shot through him. He didn’t know who he was without Fluffers. How long had he been here? What if he’d been gone for a week? Had someone fed Fluffers? 

He had to get home. How, though? Noel wasn’t like his dad, his brother, or his uncles, who were all big, physically strong men. No, he was shorter, more fine-limbed, and had the same eyes as his mom. He had no real memories of her. She’d left them when he was three, but he’d seen photos. He looked like her, and it was hard on his dad. 

Or, Noel wasn’t sure it was his appearance that made it hard for Jack. He loved Noel, he had no doubt, but where he trusted Matt, his brother, to take care of himself, he worried about Noel. 

And maybe he was right to, considering Noel was trussed up in a grave. 

He tried moving again without success. A chair. He was pretty sure he was tied to a chair. The air was cold enough to hurt his nose when he inhaled. Fuck. 

He wasn’t dead. The clearer his mind got, the more convinced he was of still being alive, but where was he? And how long before he succumbed to hypothermia? 

* * * * 

Noel had no idea how much time had passed—hours, if he was to guess—when there was a sound. 

He straightened in the chair. His teeth had been chattering out of his control, but now he managed to stop them. 

So far, there had been no sounds. It was hard to get a grip on reality when surrounded by impenetrable darkness and deprived of sounds. 

Should he shout for help? Part of him wanted to, but what were you supposed to do in a kidnapping situation? Thea’s voice rang in his head: Never let them take you to a secondary location! 

Well, too late now. The last thing he remembered was drinking the coffee at the office’s Christmas party. He hadn’t wanted to be there, had wanted to go home to Fluffers and wait for Bo to come home from work. 

What happened after? It didn’t matter, he was here now, and he tried to search his brain for more useful things Thea had told him. They’d done an episode on what to do when kidnapped for the podcast. Stay calm. Cooperate. Avoid getting killed. 

But should he shout for help? 

Before he could make up his mind, a door opened, and light streamed into the room. A quick look around told him there was nothing in the room other than the chair he was sitting on. Metal walls and a cooling unit near the ceiling. Fuck. Was he in a cold room? 

How long until he froze to death? He suspected he would’ve already if the thermostat had been set too low. 

“You’re alive.” 

Fear washed over Noel, and he flinched without meaning to. It was the voice of his nightmares. One he’d never forget. 

Kyle Stephens. 

Every muscle tensed in Noel’s body as Kyle neared him. The blow had his head snap to the side, and he hissed as the taste of blood spread in his mouth. It stung as he slid his tongue over his split lip. Don’t panic. He breathed in deeply. 

“You fucking slut.” 

What were the rules when kidnapped by an ex? Noel didn’t think the normal rules applied. There was no use in trying to appear human. Kyle knew everything about him already. 

Noel kept quiet. 

“Lost your voice? Maybe I should’ve tied you up a long time ago.” 

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold traveled his body. “Maybe you should have.” Thank God, Kyle never had been into restraints. 

“Should’ve gagged you.” Kyle leaned closer and sneered. He was a bit fuzzy, which made Noel realize he didn’t have on his glasses. A glance at himself told him he was fully dressed but wore no shoes. Was it a common kidnapping strategy to take the victim’s glasses and shoes? He’d have to ask Thea at some point. 

Kyle took a step back. He was still close enough to be able to hit Noel, so he didn’t dare relax, but he liked it better when Kyle was at arm’s length than right in his face. Despite not seeing all the details of his features, Noel could tell his sandy-colored hair was longer than he’d ever seen it before. His chin was stubbly, which was odd. Kyle refused to leave the apartment in the morning without shaving, didn’t matter if it was a Sunday, and they were off work. 

The old memories made him feel sick, and he tried to unsee the image of Kyle leaning over the sink in Noel’s apartment to slide the razor over his skin. 

“What do you want, Kyle?” His voice wobbled. 

Kyle huffed. “You know what I want.” 

He did? Noel couldn’t come up with anything plausible. Kyle didn’t know Fluffers, so it couldn’t be he wanted his fish. Noel never would’ve dared get a pet with Kyle. He would’ve mistreated it and used it to control Noel. 

“Eh… I’m dating someone.” He hadn’t believed Kyle wanted him, had doubted he’d been anything more than a convenient solution while they’d been dating, and since he hadn’t seen him in three and a half years, he had a hard time believing Kyle was dying to get back together. 

Kyle snorted. “I wouldn’t touch you even if I were wearing gloves. You were a crappy lay anyway, always flinching and wincing.” 

Noel tried not to let the words take root in him, but what did he expect when he was beaten black and blue, and Kyle was anything but gentle? “What do you want?” 

“I want your dad to back the fuck off, and I want you to turn me into a hero.” 

Maybe Noel had hit his head on the ride over here. A concussion made sense. “I… eh… How would you ever be a hero?” 

The blow came so fast, he didn’t have time to brace for it. Had he reacted faster, he might have been able to prevent the chair from toppling over, but once it started falling, all he could do was tag along for the ride. He did his best to allow the shoulder to take the impact, but his head thudded against the floor too, and everything turned black once again. 

* * * * 

When Noel woke, it was to a dark room and a stabbing pain in his head. He was lying on the floor, still tied to the chair. His whimper warmed his lips for a short moment. 

Deep breaths. 

Noel tried to take stock of his body. His head hurt, his shoulder hurt, and his face throbbed in a way he hadn’t experienced since he’d last been in Kyle’s claws. He hated being beaten up. He doubted anyone liked it, but he truly hated it. It always made him feel weak and pathetic. A grown man unable to defend himself. 

He moved his fingers and squeezed his toes. Pinpricks rushed through him. This wasn’t good. How long had he been unconscious this time? How cold was the room? How long before it got dangerous? 

It already was dangerous, with or without the cold. 

“Kyle!” 

Was there any use in calling for him? Where the hell could he be? He didn’t know of any place with an empty cold room. If they’d been in a restaurant, there would’ve been food and people around, and he didn’t think morgues favored this kind of open floor plan. And there were no gurneys. Morgues had those, right? 

“Kyle!” 

He hoped they weren’t in a morgue. 

The door opened, and Kyle glared at him—or he was too blurry for Noel to tell if he was glaring, but he believed he was. It was right there in the tense shoulders and slightly tilted jaw. “What?” 

Perhaps it would’ve been better to keep his mouth shut. “Eh… nothing. Wondered if you were still here.” 

Kyle huffed. 

“Where is here, to be exact?” 

A snort. He was big on sounds, Kyle fucking Stephens. 

“Somewhere no one will find you.” 

Great. 

Kyle leaned against the doorpost, and Noel could make out a smug grin despite the lack of glasses. “Unless you do what I say, you’ll never leave this room.” 

Noel gave him a careful nod. “Okay. What do you want me to do?” 

“The same thing you did last year.” 

Last year? What had he done last year? Worked his boring ass admin job, hung out with Thea, cuddled with Fluffers, and… eh… then there was Bo. He didn’t think this had anything to do with Bo. Kyle hated Thea, but as far as Noel was aware, he’d never met Bo. 

Or he had, Noel had taken him to a party Bo had attended when they’d still been dating. But he didn’t think they’d talked then, and he found it hard to believe they’d met after. 

“Oookay.” He tried shifting his weight because his shoulder wasn’t pleased, but it wasn’t easy when tied up. “Which part of last year?” 

Kyle growled—not a good sign. Noel tried to move away, but all he accomplished was to rub his face against the cold, dirty floor. 

“The rambling in the basement with the murderer.” 

Cold swept through Noel’s soul. How could Kyle know about that? He’d always mocked his and Thea’s podcast, had believed it was utterly ridiculous, and had been angry every time Noel needed to leave the apartment to do an interview or investigate something. 

Normally, they didn’t do contemporary crimes; their focus was cold cases in Cokford and surroundings, but last year, Noel had gone to interview a woman about a disappearance and had seen her get shot. 

It wasn’t his favorite day to remember, but it had given them a lot more new subscribers. Noel’s dream was to be able to live off the podcast. He hated his job, but he loved podcasting. 

“You want me to record myself in this room?” He tried shifting his legs, trying to see if he still had his phone. 

He didn’t think he did. 

“Yes. You’re gonna talk about how you’re trapped, how you have no idea where you are, how scared you are, and so on. The whole spiderweb in your hair thing.” 

Fuck, they’d only released the recording of Noel’s rambling to their Patreon subscribers. Did it mean Kyle was a subscriber? Stupid perhaps, but Noel didn’t want his money. 

Noel had believed he’d die in Cynthia Harris’ basement, so he’d recorded himself accounting for what he’d seen, knowing Thea would find it and be able to give it to the police. Once the police had apprehended the killer, they’d played the recording for their paying members. 

Insane as it was, it was the recording that had grown their audience. Still now, a year later, they had new people finding them and signing up to get to hear it. 

“How… eh… what will I talk about? I don’t remember getting here. I don’t know where I am.” He would do it. If he could get a recording done, it would save to the cloud, and he was sure Thea would check there the moment she realized Noel was gone. Which could take a day or two. She’d want to hear about how boring the Christmas party had been, but if he didn’t pick up, she’d assume he was busy doing something with Bo. It would take… maybe until tomorrow night—given it was still the same day—before she suspected something was wrong. 

Bo would know earlier. He might already have noticed, and his first call would be to Thea. 

Relief washed through him. They’d notice. 

“Okay, okay.” Had he been able to, he’d have raised his hands. “I’ll do it. I’ll ramble about how cold I am and how dark it is.” 

Kyle gave a clipped nod. 

“But then what?” 

“What do you mean?” He was back to being annoyed, which most often ended badly. 

“When I’ve said I don’t know where I am and so on, then what will happen? How will you find me?” 

Kyle frowned. “Your description will make me check the cold room at the—” He cut himself off and narrowed his eyes. “You shit.” He kicked at the chair leg. Noel didn’t know if it was where he’d aimed, but thankfully, the impact only hurt his arm and shoulder as he slid a little on the floor. 

“Okay, okay, but it all depends on Thea playing it.” 

Kyle stomped around him so he could look Noel in the eyes. “You’ll play it.” 

Noel took a slow, drawn-out breath. He didn’t want to be on the floor, unable to shield himself when he spoke. “It’s not believable. If I had access to my phone, I’d call for help.” 

“You didn’t last time.” 

“Yes, I did. I called Detective Nicholas, and I stayed in the basement until he came to get me.” 

Kyle whirled around and stepped out of the freezer room, slamming the door shut and leaving Noel in complete darkness.