Page 20 of The Wrong Drive

I slam the lookout door behind me, Gunner barely slipping inside, and then I flip the lock. I open the pill bottle, and shake out a handful, popping them into my mouth and dry swallowing. I set the nearly empty bottle on the desk and retreat to thecorner, taking a seat on the carpet and leaning my head back against the wall.

Fuck her for saying no. Fuck me for not killing her. Fuck me for not knowing how to be a normal human being anymore.

Closing my eyes, I let the chill sink in, the draft providing me with the cold shoulder I desire right now. Gunner sits beside me as the heaviness takes hold, drawing me into an unconscious stupor that numbs my brain and body.

It’s the only time I ever get any peace.

I just hope it lasts a while.

Chapter 8

Emersyn

I stare at the stairwell,counting six treads before the mid-landing is swallowed by darkness. Turner and his dog disappeared up those stairs almost two freaking days ago, and I haven’t seen either of them since. Luckily, when I had followed him out onto the back porch, I’d found the stack of firewood, which has allowed me to keep the cabin warm. But…where is he?

My jaw tenses as I think about the pill bottle he grabbed, and the way he pushed me sexually right before. Ihatehow turned on I was by him, and part of me regrets not letting him wipe the breakup from my mind momentarily. Part of me is still hoping Adam will want to work things out—but the smarter part knows it needs to be over.

Maybe Turner could jump start that process.

If he’s even still alive.

I frown at the intrusive thought, but honestly, it’s been flickering beneath the surface ever since he took that pill bottle and never came back. And I mean, maybe he’s just keeping to himself? Maybe he’s totally fine up there—whereverthereis.

But I can’t let it go.

His dog should at least need to go to the bathroom? Eat? Something. I smooth out my sweater and take a step towardthe stairs.If he’s up there, and wants to be left alone, I’ll just apologize and come back. No big deal.But as the wood creaks beneath my steps, itfeelslike a big deal. It feels like I might be walking right into a trap.

Taking deep breaths to steady my racing heart, I pause on the mid-landing. I check my now-charged watch, noting that it’s almost dark outside, too, which probably isn’t helping this whole escapade I’ve started on. But I continue forward, my mind running one hundred miles an hour.

What will I do if he…isn’t okay? I don’t have a phone. He doesn’t have a phone. How do I get help?

As I reach the top of the stairs, I’m met with multiple doors—all of them closed. I stand there for a few long moments, straining to hear something other than the howling of the winds. The snow fall has slowed from what I can tell, but the wind keeps whipping violently. As if on cue, a draft causes a chill to run down my spine, and I wrap my arms around myself.

I make it to the first door and stop again.Do I knock? Or just open it?I want to shout out my frustration. I’m already freaking trapped in a stranger’s house in the middle of a fucking blizzard—with no phone—and now I’m having to do a welfare check on the guy who knocked me out. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be terrified or just…mad.Regardless, I choose to knock softly.

But nothing happens.

I try the doorknob, and it turns in my hand. I push the door in, but the room is completely dark. I can’t make out what’s on the shelves and walls, but it’s easy to see that Turner and his dog are MIA. I close the door and move to the next one. As I do, the sound of a slight whining catches my attention from the next door over. I creep across to it, my heart pounding in my ears now.

And then I knock twice, just like before.

Holding my breath, I wait, listening to the whining intensify on the other side of the door. It causes me to nearly panic when Turner doesn’t come to answer. I knock again, this time, twice as loud.

“Turner,” I call out, my voice rasping from the silence I’ve been living in. “Are you okay?”

More fucking whining.

“Turner,” I say it louder, and then go for the doorknob. Itdoesn’tturn in my hand. It’s locked. I jiggle the doorknob; now almost positive I’m just going to find a dead body on the other side. Hands shaking, I lean down to scrutinize the lock, but it’s a pinhole. I don’t have the right tool to unlock it.

I choke back a cry, before turning to head back downstairs. I might be able to find something to jimmy it open with. I mean, at this point, it’s probably a medical emergency, right? I glance down to my wool socks and fill my lungs with oxygen, trying to keep myself from having a panic attack.

I’m fine. I can handle this. I’ll find something to open the door and then?—

The door clicks from behind me. I spin around to see the door swing open and Gunner rush out. He bounds to me, his butt wiggling with excitement, but I can barely focus on him as Turner appears in the hallway, running his hands over his face.

His eyes widen as he sees me, like somehow, he didn’t expect me to be here. “What’re you doing up here?”

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

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