Page 11 of The Wrong Drive

“You changed my pants,” I comment as I slowly go for the water, seeing his gaze follow my arm.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” I pick up the bottle and unscrew the lid, nerves rolling through my stomach so hard, I begin to feel nauseous.Did he do anything to me?I shift uncomfortably.I don’t think so. I don’t feel like I’ve been violated.

“Your jeans were wet.”

I study his face for a few moments but then nod, taking a sip of the water to avoid him noticing the heat flushing my cheeks. This man saw me partially unclothed.Yikes.I focus on my actions instead. I’ll test the drink with just a little sip at a time, and if I start to feel off, I’ll stop. Self-preservation, I guess. Though, I have to admit the moment he had me cornered, there was a part of me that wished he would’ve just pulled the trigger over dragging me into his cabin.

But maybe he’s just a backwoods mountain man.That would literally be best case scenario at this point, but let’s be honest, I’m just trying to make myself feel better. I’m probably going to die a horrible, painful death at the hands of this guy. My mind plays with that idea as I take another shaky sip. I’m so freaking thirsty, but so scared I’ll pass out again.

He won’t let me even use his phone.

I take a stab at him, trying to talk away my growing panic. “Why can’t I use your phone to call someone?”

He shrugs, his thick shoulders bobbing only slightly. “Don’t have one.”

I furrow my brows, not for one second believing him. “You don’t have a phone? Not even a landline?”

He just stares at me.

“Okay,” I mutter, more to myself than anything. “Do you know how long this snow is going to last?”

“Couple of weeks.”

“That’s how long to expect to be snowed-in? Or how long the blizzard itself will last?” He chuckles, and my heart skips a few beats at the sound. “I’m from Oklahoma,” I clarify. “We don’t get snow like this.”

“I know.”

I clench my fists. “Okay, so then how long is the actual snowstorm going to last?”

“Three to four days.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “And then I’ll be able to leave?”

“No.”

My chest tightens. “Why?”

“By the time they get out here to clear the roads, the second storm will move in,” he reasons, his tone bitter with annoyance.

The urge to cry bites at me, but I push it away. Losing it in the woods with this guy was embarrassing enough. “So, when will I be able to leave?”

“Stop asking so many goddamn questions,” he roars, jarring me. I brace as he pushes himself to standing, his six-foot-something, muscular frame towering over me. I shrink away, preparing to be attacked, but he only shakes his head. “Just shut up and drink the water.”

His boots thud across the floor, and my eyes follow him as he disappears down a dark hallway off the main room, leaving me alone. I wait for what feels like hours, though I know it’s just minutes, expecting him to return… But he doesn’t.

Where’s the dog?I scan the room, and then carefully, stand to my feet. I set the water down, and ease across the living room, my socks silent. Clearly, my host is an abrasive asshole, and I think it’s safe to assume he’s dangerous.

And pissed I’m here.

I enter the kitchen, a dim light on above the stove. He still has electricity despite the storm, so that’s a plus. A chill wafts through air and I shiver again, wishing I had a blanket or coat. I glance around and my eyes land on the fridge, my stomach growling. God knows how long it’s been since I’ve eaten. I don’t know the date. I don’t know the time.

And it’s sobering.

But surely,someoneis looking for me, right? I mean, Adam? And what about my family and friends? They’d be unable to reach me? And I’d think Adam, despite us not being together or whatever, would tell them what’s going on?

Ugh.The thought nearly sends me to my knees. I take a deep breath, and decide to keep creeping, focusing on the inherent risk I’m taking instead of everyone panicking over me going missing in a blizzard.

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