Chapter 10 - Shadows In The Cabin
The cabin door hung off a single rusted hinge, groaning loudly as Costlow pushed it inward. The interior smelled of mold, dry rot, and generations of dust. Moonlight filtered through the grime of a small, cracked window, casting long, fractured shadows across a wooden floor littered with pine needles and fallen plaster from the ceiling.
Costlow wedged a heavy wooden crate behind the door to keep it from swinging open, then sank down onto an overturned wooden crate near the hearth, burying his face in his hands. The adrenaline that had sustained him through the bus ride, the motel room, and the church parking lot was finally burning out, leaving behind the stark, agonizing reality of his injuries and his ruined life.
I knelt beside him on the dusty floorboards, setting the manila envelope down near my feet. "Leo," I murmured softly, using his real name for the first time without the formal title. "Let me check your side again. The bleeding started up when we ran through the ditch."
He lowered his hands, looking down at me. In the dim, silver light filtering through the window, his eyes weren't the hardened gaze of a syndicate boss or the panicked expression of a hunted man. They were tired, profoundly human, and devastatingly honest.
"You shouldn't have gotten into that car with me," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I've brought nothing but ruin to everyone who ever got close to me. Why didn't you just lock your door that first night and call the police?"
"Because you didn't have anywhere else to go," I whispered, reaching out to brush a stray lock of dark hair away from his forehead. My fingers brushed against his rough, scruffy beard, lingering on the line of his jaw.
May you like
He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into my touch, his right hand coming up to cover mine, pressing my palm firmly against his cheek. The distance between us dissolved in the suffocating quiet of the abandoned room. When he leaned down, his lips met mine in a desperate, tentative kiss that tasted of salt, ash, and an overwhelming, shared survival. It wasn't gentle, and it wasn't safe, but as his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against his chest, it was the only real thing left in a world that had fallen apart.
Outside, the wind shifted through the pines, but inside the cabin, the rest of the world stopped existing.
