Page 91 of Whiteout

“Or smashing into it?” Arching her brow, Breanna smirked and got in.

“Or that.” He chuckled, buckling her into her seatbelt. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

“Can we stop at the drugstore first?” Scrunching her shoulders, she pursed her lips to the side. “I need to pick up some things.”

Tampons, specifically. She only kept a couple in her purse.

“Of course we can.” He closed her door and came around to the driver’s side. “How about we take a walk down Main Street? I’ll show you around a bit and we can grab a bite to eat.”

“Yeah, okay.” Breanna giggled, watching Sinjin trying to adjust his seat in her little, girly car. “I’d like that.”

She studied the details of the old buildings as they walked past, noting the year of construction embedded into the wall. 1887. 1921. “This is so cool.”

“Datestones. They used to do that back in the day,” Sinjin explained, coming to a stop in front of the drugstore. “The Daltons and St. Johns pretty much built this town together. Our families were never divided—at least not until Sharon died.”

“But that’s in the past now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, princess.” He kissed her brow. “We made sure of that.”

Sinjin opened the door for her, escorting her inside. Scoffing at the Plan B pills she hadn’t needed sitting on a shelf next to bottles of KY Jelly, Breanna proceeded down the aisle and dropped a box of tampons—super absorbency because Aunt Flo’s a goddamn bitch—into the red plastic shopping basket. At the checkout, she threw in a big bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. Raising his brow, Sinjin smirked, so she added a tube of Burt’s Bees coconut lip balm for good measure.

“Got everything you need, princess?” With a chuckle, he handed his card over to the cashier.

As long as I’ve got you. She nodded.

Out on the sidewalk, Sinjin asked, “Hungry?”

“Aren’t I always?” Besides, Aunt Flo turned her into a ravenous beast.

“Come on.” He chuckled. “I better feed you, then.”

After scarfing down a burger at the same bar she’d seen the old men walk into the night she came here, they headed back up the mountain. With Sinjin driving, she could take in the village as it disappeared behind them, the hairpin curves of the pass, the harrowing drop-offs into nothing. Jesus. She swallowed. Her heart was in her throat even now. This road with her name on it had claimed two lives that she knew of already. Breanna squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of it taking another.

As if reading her thoughts, Sinjin reached across the console, and taking her hand, he held it on his thigh. “You’ll get used to it, and soon, driving the pass will seem as natural to you as breathing.”

Somehow, she didn’t think so.

He parked the Miata beneath the shelter of the porte-cochère. She went to gather her things, grabbing her shopping bag from the floorboard and the charger she’d left behind the night of the storm. Breanna heard the ping from his phone but didn’t give any thought to it.

Sinjin read the text, pocketed his phone, and glanced over at her.

“He knows.”

He told her not to worry.

But in between pacing around her room and packing up her things, she did.

“What did Derek say?” she’d asked as he led her up the stairs. “How do you know he knows?”

Pausing at her door, Sinjin huffed out a breath. “He said I’m dead to him.”

“That doesn’t mean…”

“That’s exactly what it means.” He nodded, tucking Breanna’s hair behind her ear. “It’s okay, baby. I planned on telling him once you left for your mom’s, anyway.”

“What do you think he’s going to do?”

“Nothing he can do, baby. So don’t worry.”

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