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Family-owned for generations and recently passed on to the daughter who turned it into a vacation spot with the help of her husbands.
Austin steps out of the truck. “Landry and I will move on and secure Honor’s safety, fill in the owners with what is going on and then you catch up with us.”
Austin nods and disappears as I continue down the road that winds through the woods another quarter mile around the lake.
From the dark cabins dotting the edge of the lake in the distance there’s no one else vacationing, but that won’t be for long.
I kill the engine and coast in the last fifty yards. Landry and I slip from the truck and silently close the doors behind us. I hold a hand up for Landry to wait. “We do this, we keep our pact. No touching, do our job and then we get the hell out of Dodge.”
Landry’s irritated smirk tells me he thinks I’m full of shit, but he nods in agreement as we peel off and check the perimeter of the house before meeting back at the front door. Lights are off and to all but us, the place looks empty. But I smell the hint of rose perfume that belongs to only one person. We might not be able to have her, but that doesn’t mean we can’t protect her.
Even from ourselves.
Seven
Honor
Ishoot up from the bed in surprise. When I don’t hear anything, I have a weird spike of panic shoot through me. Sleep-dazed, something startles me awake, but my eyes are too unfocused to see anything past my hand.
I must have fallen asleep at some point between breaking and entering and waiting on further instructions from my father. He’d gone into parent mode first and then fixer mode after hearing I was safe for the moment. Our call lasted long enough for me to fill him in on what occurred and for him to tell me help was on the way. We’d hung up on his promise he would call back and that everything would turn out fine. I clung to that hope now as renewed fear rips through me.
My foggy brain clears when I hear the sound again. It’s coming from the front of the cabin and sounds like a low-timbered murmur, but I can’t tell for sure. Only thing I do know is that unless this cabin is haunted, someone is in here with me. And I didn’t see any ghosts when I vacationed here last summer.
Gooseflesh shoots up my arms and sends the hair on my neck on end.
Danger.
Oh, God, how did they find me? Please, God…
I flip my phone over only to find a dead screen.
Old adrenaline mixes with new.
I slide from the bed and creep across the room using the shadows as a mask. The only sound is the ruffle of my rain-dampened dress in the quiet morning. I peel back the edge of a flimsy curtain. Just a big enough slit to see the grounds outside the cabin. Dawn flushes the sky a gradient of blue hues, and gradually fading stars mark its progress across the morning sky. None of that helps me right now. Thick brush and overlapping branches mask the woods surrounding the cabin, locking out the light.
There it is again. I swivel away from the window and tip-toe to the door of the bedroom. I knew I should have taken the couch instead of the bed. I’d gotten comfortable and now I’m going to die in a cabin deep in the woods because of it. Every fucking horror movie I’ve watched flashes across my mind.
I peer around the doorframe to find two hulking shadows silently stepping through the front door, and there’s no mistaking the silhouettes of guns in their hands. Ghosts don’t carry guns.
It takes a lot, but I swallow the sharp scream of panic wanting out. Fear keeps my eyes rooted to their location as I retreat into the back bedroom.
Goon one tries for a light switch behind the door but since I didn’t exactly announce my arrival, the owners of the lodge have no idea I’ve commandeered one of their cabins, so the lights and water are still shut off.
Lucky for me.
With the darkness on my side, I rush to the window and throw it open. Wood against wood squeaks, giving away my position.
Boots thumping against the hard floor sends my heart into overdrive for the second time, and I will myself to not look back. I do and it’s all over. I don’t know how they found me, and I can’t think of a single thing but to run.
It’s only a few feet to the ground with soft grass to cushion my feet as I slip from the window.
In an evening dress that weighs half my weight, it’s not an easy maneuver, but I manage without tumbling ass-over-head. Barely, but that’s good enough.
Shouts come from the window I just took a nosedive from as I hit the tree line at a hard run. There’s goes my head start.
Grass all too quickly fades to twigs, pines cones and vines, and my feet protest, forcing me to slow my progress.
The outline of a third man sneaking up the drive catches my eye.
