Page 21 of Fate Awakened

“You want me to go inside? YOU WANT ME TO GO INSIDE?” I begin laughing—hysterical, uncontrollable laughter. Tears fall from my eyes, and even I can’t believe the insanity that is my situation. “ABSOLUTELY, let’s go see what ‘Hudson the kidnapper’ is up to, shall we, Casper?” I finish, unable to do anything but stand there staring at the cabin in the distance, laughter still rolling deliriously from my lips.

I cross my arms, considering my next move. My eyes slide over the tree line, looking for an escape route or anything I could use to gain an advantage.

Should I make another run for it? Sure, and die from hypothermia? Fuck!

Ghost’s eyes darken, a challenge rising in them as he sees my wheels turning. He steps forward, startling me as he grabs my face firmly with his hand. Pulling me close to his large frame, he envelops me in his warm woodsy scent. The look in his eyes has me trying to tear away before he leans in. The stubble on his jaw scrapes my cheek. I freeze.

“I don’t believe I ever gave the impression that I was a ‘friendly’ Ghost. Now are you going to be a brat and make me carry you?” he whispers, the smooth whiskey tone seeping back into his voice. His breath is warm as it dances down the skin of my neck.

I suck in a breath, shaking my head against his grip on my chin. His intensity sobers me as he releases my face before creating some distance between our bodies. The cold fills the spaces of warmth his body left behind, and I shudder involuntarily.

Straightening my spine, I walk the distance to the cabin, Ghost falling into step behind me. When we reach the porch, he steps around me, opens the door, and ensures I’m behind him before continuing.

Inside, the warmth hits me first, causing a moan to escape my lips. The cabin turns out to be more spacious than the outside let on and is lit with modern fixtures. This door leads us into the kitchen, which appears almost out of place in the rustic cabin. An industrial-sized fridge and a double oven backdrop the oversized kitchen island, which is topped with white and brown marble.

Beyond the kitchen is the family room, a comfortable-looking brown suede couch with a matching recliner, an oversized rug, and a large fireplace with a fully roaring fire.

At least it’s warm.

My eyes scan the space for Hudson but come up empty. A short hallway leading to several doors is off the side of the room.

“Bathroom is down on the right,” Ghost says before passing me headed for the fridge.

I roll my eyes before heading down the short hall into the restroom. I shut the door, lock it, and fall against it with a sigh.

What the fuck am I going to do?

I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with no phone, no identification, and no one looking for me. The weight of my situation crushes me, making my chest tight.

Maybe I just need to get Ghost to see my side? He didn’t take me, he didn’t drug me, and he protected me from that wolf.

It’s worth a shot.

I take longer than necessary in the bathroom, using it, cleaning myself up, and washing some of the day off my face and arms. Looking up at the mirror, exhaustion evident on my face after the day I’ve had, I see only the shell of myself. My face is pink from the cold, bags darken the skin under my eyes, and my lips are cracked from the wind and my incessant chewing.

“You can do this,” I whisper, hoping the mantra can help me find the confidence I need to get through this. All I can think of now is how much I miss Cain. I’m not the girl who needs a man to solve all her problems, but he makes me feel more myself. Stronger. I feel brave with him, and I need a little of that to get home.

I exhale, shaking out my tension before I exit the bathroom. It's probably been twenty minutes, but I needed to collect myself. As I enter the hall, I catch the scent of spices filling the air. A comforting, homey scent draws me into the kitchen, where Ghost is chopping vegetables and throwing them into a wooden salad bowl. Behind him, a large pot simmers on low heat with a silver lid allowing steam to escape in a stream floating to the ceiling before dissipating.

I pause at the entrance watching him move with an alluring confidence. The towel over his shoulder removes from my mind some of the rugged wild man persona I encountered in the woods. I notice he’s now wearing a deep blue shirt over his expansive chest, which fortunately helps me keep my eyes on the knife, sliding easily through a bright red tomato.

“Food should be ready in a minute,” he drawls, turning away from the cutting board to retrieve something from the pantry off the side of the kitchen. His eyes never look up at me, and I wonder if I made some sort of sound in my approach.

“I was under the impression kidnappers didn’t prepare meals for their hostages,” I say, inserting venom into my tone while crossing my arms over my chest. He may be playing the role of host, but I won’t fall into a false sense of security that this situation is anything aside from what it is.

He pauses, his eyes flashing back to mine with a challenge.

“Kidnapper? The door is right behind you, City. I don’t see anything stopping you from walking out of it,” he finishes with a lift of his chin, daring me to walk through it. I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. I won’t survive in the dark in these temperatures; he knows it as much as I do. The side of his mouth tips up in a smirk that's smug and entirely unflattering.

Okay, that's a lie. He’s still hot, but now he’s annoying.

“How about you just let me use your phone? One call and I could be out of your hair,” I offer, hoping if he isn’t trying to hold me here, he’ll be willing to help get me out of there.

“How about you sit, eat something, and tell me what you’re doing here?” he says, turning to dish what I can now see is chili into bowls he set on the counter before pulling some shredded cheese and sour cream from the fridge.

My stomach growls audibly. I’m starving. The donuts I had hours ago are long since burned through. The survivor in me knows eating now will get me one step closer to having the strength to get out of here, even now planning an early morning escape.

I straighten my spine and walk to the counter, pulling a chair out and sliding into it.

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