Page 73 of Into the Woods

“Starving,” I admitted.

“Rook is ordering some pizzas. They’ll be here any minute, and maybe you can talk to Court when he comes back.”

Nodding, I climbed off the bed and stretched. I followed him into the living area and ate dinner with them. We watched a movie, and by the time I went to bed, Court still wasn’t back.

I could tell Rook and Bishop were nervous about it, until Rook got a text that seemed to relax and piss him off at the same time. When the brothers exchanged a look they thought I’d missed, I knew the truth.

Court wasn’t coming back for me. Whatever bridge we’d started building this morning had been burned to the ground. This time I wasn’t sure which one of us had struck the match.

That little bubble of hope inside me popped, and I crept back into my bed.

I wanted to be angry, to rage at the world. But I just lay in silence as tears dripped down my cheeks until sleep was the only thing left that would claim me.

CHAPTER 22

BEX

I was cold.

No, I was freezing.

Shivering, I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. Tucked into a corner of the small room, I heard only the roar of the wind through the trees. It slammed against the sides of the house, battering it like a hurricane.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I dropped my head to my knees and swallowed a sob. My throat ached from all the screaming and crying I’d already done, and the heat of my forehead seared through the jeans and burned my knees.

My head felt heavy, muddled. My bones ached. I just wanted to sleep.

Something crashed outside, and I jerked. My head snapped up to see a tree bent nearly in half outside the lone window in the small space.

I’d pulled the comforter off the single bed in the room and wrapped it around my thin shoulders as best as I could, but I was still so cold.

My eyes stung with the need to cry, but I was out of tears. My throat burned, and I reached for the bottle of water. My fingertips brushed it, knocking it over.

“No, no!” I cried, clumsily grappling for it before it could fall over.

It was like watching a disaster in slow motion.

The clear plastic teetered on the rim, wobbling for a moment before tilting away from me. What was left of my water splashed onto the dusty floorboards as the bottle rolled away.

I scrambled forward. The fabric of my jeans tore as they snagged on a rough piece of wood. A splinter pierced my skin, and I recoiled with a cry. The bottle tumbled under the bed and out of sight, leaving a thin trail of droplets in its wake.

That was my last bottle of water. The other empty containers mocked me from a few feet away, where I’d arranged them in a neat row of three. The empty box of crackers was next to it. I’d licked all the crumbs from the bottom hours ago. How long had I been here? When would it end?

A sob ripped from my throat as I started to cry again, my insides tumbling around with fear, hunger, and exhaustion. I wanted my mommy. I wanted my friends. I wanted—

The glass of the window exploded into the room, shards skittering across the floor as a tree branch smashed into it.

I screamed again, rolling to my side as the wind howled louder. A deafening roar consumed me, threatening to rip the walls of the cabin apart as the storm raged on.

With nothing left to do, I tried screaming for help one more time. Only one name came to my lips, because he’d never let me down. He’d always saved me. He was my hero.

Something else slammed into the tiny space, and then the floor was shaking as something thumped across it. Something grabbed my shoulders, wrapping around my tiny arms and lifting me.

“No!” I screamed and wriggled, curling tighter into a ball. “Let me go!”

“Becca.”

I knew that voice, but my brain was beyond comfort. Beyond comprehension. I slapped out. “No!”

---