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“Come on, little rabbit,” he says, his tone thick and velvety, making me wish that things could be different. But side note—what the fuck is this little rabbit thing he’s got going on at the moment? I don’t think he’s ever called me that.
He slowly starts walking through the living space, checking behind every piece of furniture in the room. “You can’t hide in here forever. There’s only so many places your tight little body can fit. I will find you. Why don’t you just save us all a little bit of time and come out? There’s a few things we need to … talk about.”
In his fucking dreams, but he’s right. There are more than a few things that need to be discussed, but that’s not going to happen until I have him chained to a fucking chair … and not in the good way.
Carver steps closer to the cupboard and I tighten my grip on the knife as I pull back from the keyhole, knowing that even through this tiny little hole, he’d be able to point out my eyes anywhere. But what am I really willing to do with this knife?
I killed his bastard of a father with a dagger right through the gut. Can I make it two for two? I don’t know. It’s one thing wanting revenge for their betrayal, but ending them would be like ending myself. They still own my heart, no matter how badly I wish they didn’t. If I were to hurt them in any way, I don’t know if I’d be able to live with myself after.
I listen and feel for the soft vibrations of his steps as he moves past the small cupboard, disregarding it because of its size, and as I hear him move past me and move deeper into the cabin, I lean forward again and watch as he goes.
Carver grabs the side of the couch and in one smooth motion, flips it away from him before moving onto the next and making my heart pound furiously inside my chest, pumping so hard and fast that it’s bound to give out soon.
Not able to find me, he moves onto the dining room, but I don’t dare move. I need a few minutes to catch my breath before I keep going. Besides, this cabin is fucking huge—it’s going to take him a while to search every nook and cranny. So instead, I focus on putting a plan in place.
As Carver moves into the kitchen, I watch as he takes note of the missing knife and grabs one for himself, making my stomach sink. “This isn’t a game you want to play, Winter. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you strike against me, I’ll have no choice but to react.”
He continues searching through the kitchen as my stomach attempts to right itself. I’ve been stabbed before and it wasn’t nice, but Carver was the one there to save me. I saw the guilt in his eyes when he thought he wasn't fast enough, and the pain on his face when he watched me quickly fading. There’s no way he’d inflict that kind of pain on me, but then, for so long I thought there was no way he’d ever try to blow me up … so there’s that.
In my world, trust is just an illusion.
Carver moves through the kitchen with precise movements, and as he does, I take a second to look around, seeing only the few angles I can get to from the small keyhole of the cupboard. I spy a door across the hall and my back straightens as much as this small cupboard allows.
I try to remember what the front of the cabin looked like, but I only got a brief glimpse before I ran straight around it. My desperation makes the details more than just a little bit fuzzy. I’m pretty sure there was a garage … or maybe it was just another living space or a private office.
Fuck, I don’t know, but I have to check. It’s the only shot I’ve got, otherwise, I’m screwed. We’re in the middle of the woods. Perhaps there’s a hunting rifle or something that will increase my chances of survival.
My gaze swings back to the kitchen to watch as Carver slowly steps out of it and creeps across the open living space toward the beautiful wooden staircase. His footsteps are deathly silent and I bet he thinks that he’s about to get the jump on me, but he’s got another thing coming.
His hand gently falls to the handrail and I watch as he all but glides up the stairs, not making a single creak in the floorboards. This cabin is huge, and assuming that there’s at least three bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs, I have a few minutes to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. With that in mind, I slowly push the cupboard door open, feeling more vulnerable than ever before.
