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We moved around the cabin until we came to the door. It was intact, which couldn’t be said for the rest of the place.
“Careful,” Tristan said, glancing back at me. “The steps don’t feel very secure.” He tested a couple and then offered me his hand, helping me up.
The door opened without protest, and Tristan ordered me to wait outside while he checked inside. When it was clear, he beckoned me in, shutting the door behind me.
“Now what?” I said, scanning the ramshackle room. Nature had taken over, moss and creeping vines growing up through the floorboards. The remnants of a kitchen were caked in years of muck and storm debris.
“We take a breather,” he said, sliding the gun into the waistband of his black slacks. “Here.” He shucked off his jacket and helped me into it, wincing with pain.
“How is it?” I asked.
“I’ll live.”
Those words. God, those words.
Things didn’t feel as bleak as when we were holed up in the warehouse but now we were stranded in a derelict cabin in the middle of nowhere with no food or water, and without a way of contacting anybody.
Tristan started scanning the cabin, checking behind the two other doors. He quickly closed one, retching. “Don’t go in there.”
My stomach churned.
“In here,” he called from inside the second room. I peeked in, surprised to find a small bedroom with its furniture mostly intact. “I need you to stay here while I go scout the area.”
“W-what? No…No.” Panic rose inside of me. “We should stay together, we should—”
“Alessia. Principessa.” He pulled me into his arms, letting his hand run down my spine. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” I cried out, fisting his shirt as the reality of our situation crashed over me. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, Tristan. You were shot for God’s sake. What are we going to do?”
“Alessia, look at me.” His fingers slid under my jaw, coaxing my eyes to his. “We’re safe for now but I need to find some supplies, okay. I need to scout the area.”
“Then I’ll come with you, I’ll—”
“I need you to stay here, Principessa.” He inhaled deeply, pressing a kiss to my forehead. My eyes fluttered closed. All I’d ever wanted was for Tristan to kiss me. But not here, not like this.
“Stay in this room, don’t come out until I return. I’m going to leave you this.” He stepped back and unsheathed the second gun he had taken off one of the dead bodies earlier.
“N-no, I can’t.”
“Yes,” he pressed the gun into my hand, “you can. You know how to use this?”
I nodded, despite silently roaring at him that I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to ever have to use it. But I would. I’d have to. If it was a choice between life or death, I would have to point the gun and pull the trigger.
I was going to puke.
But I steeled my spine, forcing air into my lungs.
“I’ll be as quick as I can, okay? I’ll tap the window twice when I return so you know it’s me.” He turned to leave but I blurted out his name.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Just… be careful.”
“Always.” He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him, and I sank on to the floor, the wall to my back, and pointed the gun at the door.
Praying that the next person to walk through it would be Tristan returning.
* * *
