Page 62 of The Real


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“It’s getting scary, you know?”

“Is this where your serial killer paranoia comes in?”

“Yes,” I said pointedly.

“Hang in there.”

“I can’t believe you decided to take me to the woods.”

“Surprise?” he said with a laugh.

It was the first time I wanted to grab his junk as a disciplinary action.

Cameron slowed down when he spotted a driveway. “This is probably it.”

“Thank God. I need a hot shower.”

“Does that come with an invitation?” he asked, glancing at me as we followed the small driveway through the trees and hit a dead end with no cabin in sight.

“What in the hell?” He got out of the car while the windshield wipers roared. The snow was blinding at that point and I could barely make out his frame when I began to get twitchy. I was about to blow the horn when he opened the door and jumped in while I jumped out of my skin.

He gauged my reaction and shook his head.

“Okay, so this isn’t it. In fact, it’s nothing. A driveway. Nothing else.”

“Let’s go, Cameron,” I said as calmly as possible.

“I’m getting you out of here, baby.”

I melted at his term of endearment as he put the car in reverse, gassed it . . . and we didn’t move.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as I told myself not to panic.

He slowly eased on the gas again and the SUV jolted as if it were free and then, spun tires.

“You don’t have snow tires?!” I asked in calm observation.

“Abbie, baby, don’t yell. It’s okay.”

“I’m not yelling!” I yelled.

“You’re panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” I panicked.

“We’re okay, Abbie.”

“I’m fine!”

I was close to hyperventilating. I had to trust Cameron. He was a manly man. He could definitely give the woods a run for its money.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Cameron sighed as he hit the gas again and lodged us where we sat. He slammed his palms against the steering wheel. “FUCK!”

“We’re stuck?” I asked as he hung his head and slowly nodded.

“I’ve got some stuff in the back,” he said, glancing over at me. “I’ll get us out.”

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