Page 34 of Winter’s Teeth

I didn’t call Dad, I barely told Riss, and I didn’t text Brett. Now I was thinking that I probably should have told someone, even if I didn’t wholly trust the people I could have told. Dad would take it as an excuse to lecture me, Riss already tried to stop me, and Brett? Everly’s so-called devoted fiancé hadn’t bothered checking in with me since the weekend of the botched wedding. It was like he didn’t care anymore, like he really thought Everly could have run away without a word, and that upset me more than I cared to admit. If I saw him again, I would probably be holding back from punching him in the face, so it was best if he stayed out of it.

Anxiety tightened in my chest, anticipation gripped my stomach like an iron fist, and doubt fogged up my head, so I never got too far down the trail each time I tried to sort through what I was thinking and feeling. By the time I pulled onto the gravel drive that was as familiar as a recurring nightmare, I had chased my thoughts around in circles the entire drive and made no decisions about what I would do when I got there. I expertly avoided the worst bumps and potholes and mentally marked a tree with a knot in the shape of a face as well as a thicket of sweet ferns two minutes from the cabin. When I noticed the fallen, decaying log on the right side of the road, I knew I was one bend away from my destination.

The peak of the cabin’s roof came into view, and midday sunlight gleaned white on the front windows. All my thoughts went radio silent. Numbness settled in, and I barely registered what I was doing as I parked by Everly’s forgotten car and hobbled around to the trunk to get out a hastily packed bag of essentials.

I shoved a laundry basket, lamp, and box of books to the side since I’d had to pack up half my dorm in the rush to drop out of school, but when I finally curled my fingers around the handle of my duffel bag, a voice startled me.

“Are you trying to move in here?”

I whirled around, the gruff voice less than a foot away from my shoulder, and came eye-to-eye with Fox.

Well, more like eye-to-Adam’s apple.

I craned my head back and leaned against my bumper so I wasn’t so close to him, but he politely took a step back when he noticed how cornered I was.

Concern, fear, and maybe annoyance flashed in his eyes before he schooled his features into a neutral stare. If he was surprised to see me back so soon, he hid it well.

With sputtering breaths, I waited for any sort of genuine reaction, but he pointed to the duffel bag half drawn out of my trunk. “Is that all you want inside? Or should I carry your entire apartment inside as well?” he asked drily.

“Oh—No. I just want this bag, but I can carry it—Hey!”

He snatched it straight out of my hand and turned, tossing it over his shoulder as he made his way to the cabin.

I slammed the trunk shut, allowing myself only a heartbeat to double check for my keys in my pocket, then rushed after him. “I don’t need a bell boy.”

“It’s my job.”

Right. The venue business. The handsome young men who doted on visitors was all part of the charm.

I stared at the checkered black and gray squares of his colorless flannel, sort of wishing I could kick him in the back as we went up the stairs and into the cabin. A wall of heat slapped me in the face, the cold biting at my back, but when the door closed, everything evened out.

Wordless, Fox headed upstairs, his creaking footsteps the only sound in the hollow home.

“Fox, wait,” I called, chasing after him by taking the steps two at a time. “What’s going on? Has anything happened since—”

“You’ll have access to the whole second floor,” he interjected coolly. “That’s five suites, the sauna, and the study. You can use the kitchenette as well as the dining room and living spaces on the first floor. We only ask that our guests keep to the cabin grounds and don’t break into locked utility closets.”

I huffed, puffing a wave of hair out of my eyes after it slipped out of my messy bun. “Any other rules?” I mocked.

“Yes.” He stared at me hard, eyes gleaming black as he said, “Stay out of the woods.”

I bristled, the command feeling more like a challenge.

He finished up by saying, “Brunch and dinner are the only meals served at eleven a.m. and five p.m. sharp. Okay?”

Now was about the time he should have asked if I had questions, but I doubted he wanted to open up those floodgates. He was back to being closed off and useless, despite the fact that I’d rescued him twice, and he owed me big time according to my books.

“Okay,” I said on a forceful exhale. “But I have questions.”

“Are they about the cabin?”

“Sort of.”

“I can’t talk about anything else. Only business and venue-related questions.”

I planted my hands on my hips, and he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as if he were settling in for a lecture.

“Is it Arthur? Did he threaten you?”