Page 94 of Winter’s Teeth

I felt eyes on me, but I didn’t meet them yet as I stared at the sliver of sky and clouds out the back window. “What? No one’s gonna try to comfort me? Tell me that my friends will forgive me or thank me for this one day?”

Everly’s head fell against my shoulder as she curled up next to me, not a word upon her lips.

Fox remained stoically silent, infuriatingly refusing to give me any clue as to what was going on inside his head since I killed his cousin in cold blood, but Corbin wasn’t quite as tight lipped when he said, “I don’t know your friends. I don’t know anything about what’s right and wrong. All I know is that we’re free. For now.”

I peeked open an eye, finding Shira and Corbin’s fingers twining together on the console between them, their knuckles white from gripping each other so hard.

This was their first time experiencing freedom. Their first time really getting away, opening up the door to a possible life away from the Winters and their messed up traditions.

My heart ached in a good way for them. They deserved this moment. They deserved a free life together.

My head swiveled, taking covert side peeks at Fox, then a full-on look at his silver-lined side profile silhouetted against the black window. Feeling my gaze, he slowly turned to me as well. Our eyes met in the dim dark of the backseat, and when I reached for his hand, he didn’t hesitate to meet me halfway.

Our fingers gripped and wove together. I don’t hate you, he seemed to say with a pulsing squeeze, even if his eyes gleamed with a hundred other conflicted thoughts.

I wanted to say I was sorry, but if I was being honest with myself...

I wasn’t sorry at all.

Chapter 37

We pulled into the safehouse a little past two in the morning. The trailer park was a half hour north of Bald Eagle State Forest—far enough to know we were probably safe for the night, but not far enough to make us breathe any easier.

Each driveway glittered with black ice under the stars, and a fresh flurry fall started up as soon as we stepped out of the car. I held Everly close to my side so she didn’t slip and fall, our breaths puffing white clouds of mist in front of our faces. Fox walked behind us, carrying our bags with my hatchet gripped loosely in his right hand.

As Shira unlocked the front door, dancing from foot to foot to keep warm, she said, “This place was my aunt’s. She moved to an assisted living place a month ago after she fell and broke her hip.”

“Could Arthur figure that out?” I had to ask.

Everly noticeably stiffened at the mention of his name, her grip shifting as her nails dug harder into my forearm.

“No way,” Shira said, giving the handle a jiggle. One shove later, she stepped into the dark trailer. Light flickered on with a flip of the switch on the wall. “Arthur knows my last name, and he didn’t care to learn much else about me. Besides, my aunt isn’t blood related. She’s my mom’s best friend from childhood, so there aren't any records that she’s related to me. He wouldn’t know I have a key to her place either. Not unless he’s somehow aware that I house sat for her last summer and kept the spare key.”

I highly doubted Arthur hadn’t schemed and background checked Corbin’s girlfriend to make sure she wasn’t a threat to their precious family secret, but I had to admit it would be a stretch for him to find out about this place. Did it totally put my mind at ease though?

Of course not.

A hooting owl in the distance made me jump with a gasp. I whirled around, eyes roving the trees in the distance across the dead cornfield and stream behind the trailer park.

“Just an owl,” Fox said behind me on the trailer steps. His voice pitched low, as weak and tired as his eyes.

I forced out a breath, then assisted Everly the rest of the way into the mobile home.

The first thing I noticed was the ghastly beige and rose floral wallpaper. Then the clashing checkered curtains. Lastly, the heinous collection of smiling cat mugs lining every counter, shelf, and ledge wide enough to display the glassware.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Shira said in response to my shock. “Luckily she doesn’t do interior design.”

Corbin moved through the house easily, finding the right light switch for the kitchen on the first try, then knowing exactly what cupboard to look in for the non-decorative cat mugs.

“You’ve been here before?” Fox asked, having the same thoughts as me.

“Yeah, last summer.”

A small smile grew in the corner of my mouth. “You helped house sit, didn’t you? And by help, I mean—”

“You can keep that thought to yourself,” Corbin grunted. Nonetheless, a bit of pink splotched his high cheekbones. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eye as he moved about the galley kitchen, finding coffee grounds and sugar packets.