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Chapter Fourteen
Jack
Claire was doing her best to pretend as if the scene at the cabin hadn’t affected her.
But I knew how badly it had rattled her. Not only because of the way her body had tensed when we’d entered the cabin, but also how it had affected me. As soon as we had crossed the threshold of the cabin, all the weight of what had happened that night crashed into me.
I’d even looked toward that corner, certain I’d see a younger, more fragile Claire still sitting there with her arms around her knees, terrified.
And Claire had done her best not to meet my eyes, afraid if she did, I would see all those memories swimming in the pools of her eyes.
As soon as we’d stepped into the cabin, I wanted to get Claire out of there. There was no point in our being there. Whoever had taken Darla had run with her as soon as she had attempted to signal her presence.
I moved to usher Claire out of the cabin and my hand against the small of her back reminded me just how seldom I touched her. Not for the lack of wanting to. My hand ached to run along the slope of her waist, to grasp a handful of her and bring her flush against me.
“Why don’t you let me drive?” I asked, trying to take my mind off the need to touch her.
She shook her head, but then she looked down at her hands. She sighed, defeated, as she saw them shaking. Throwing the key fob my way, I caught it and followed her as she made her way to the passenger side door.
As we drove away from the cabin where this whole thing had started for us, she said nothing. The silence was too much.
“No one expects you to be unaffected by all of this,” I said finally.
Claire continued her silent treatment. Her hands were still shaking, though not quite as violently as they had been when we had left the cabin.
From the corner of my eye, I could see that she was stoic. Too stoic. She stared out at the darkness, her profile cast in an otherworldly green glow in the window by the dashboard lights.
Unable to take the silence any longer, I pulled the car onto the shoulder. With the engine still idling, I turned to her.
Seconds passed as she refused to look at me. Finally, unable to will the car back into motion, she looked over at me.
“What are you doing?” she asked, indicating the lonely expanse of road outside the car windows. We were parked alongside the 198 with only the company of trees, darkness, and the occasional car passing us by.
She was staring at me, wild-eyed and defiant.
“I think this is too much for you,” I said, finally. “You should let me take over on this one.”
She remained silent. She was watching me with an eerie stillness. Finally, she threw up her hands.
“Unbelievable!” She turned, grasping the door handle and slinging the door open before her. A cool blast of fall air penetrated the warm cocoon we’d created in the car.
Throwing open the car door, I trudged after her as she walked down the shoulder of the highway.
“Where the hell are you going?” I shouted as she continued to stomp off down the highway. “It’s your fucking car!”
“Take the damn car, Jack,” she volleyed back, briefly turning to face me. “I’ll walk.”
As I gained on her, her short legs taking her as quickly as they could, I felt my blood grow hot.
“Claire, get back in the car.”
“Jack,” she mimicked my tone, “fuck right off.”
The anger that had been simply simmering in my veins earlier was now at a boiling point.
The crunch of gravel beneath our feet and the occasional rustle from the trees alongside the road were the only sounds other than our labored breathing. It took me only a few quick strides to catch up with her.
Clutching her arm, I attempted to stop her. Instead, she jerked her arm from my grasp and tried to continue forward.
