Page 60 of Where He Ended

- Chapter 23 -

Laiken

Several days of sweatinducing labor, and the cabin is almost hospitable.

We buy new blankets in town and containers to store the water we boil as we work on figuring out what to do about the pipes that pull from the well. We replace the window, patch parts of the roof, and chop more and more logs.

It's enough hard work that the time flies by, preventing me from dwelling on my inner thoughts. Each night I go to sleep exhausted. Only my dreams remind me of what's bothering my heart.

I don't sleep well.

I don't really expect to.

And it's why I hear the front door creak open in the middle of the night when I know the only person whocouldopen it is sleeping in her bed beside me. Turning in my blankets, I strain to listen. I try to trick myself into thinking it's the wind.

I hear another noise—the pressure of a footstep outside our bedroom. Blood rushes through my veins. Heat speeds up the curve of my spine. Someone is in our cabin.

It's dark enough in the room that I can't see anything. Squinting until my temples ache, I force myself to adjust to the blackness as much as humanly possible. A halo of light peeks around the edges of our window's curtains. It lets me see Kara's bed; her hair spreads on her pillow, her face turned to the wall.

Something sounds outside the door.

My throat constricts. I move my lips—nothing comes out. Trying again, I whisper, “Kara,” just as the door swings open revealing a tall figure standing there with its legs spread wide. I don't know if I should scream or stay quiet. If I pretend to sleep, I can have an element of surprise, a better shot at attacking.

Wait, attacking?

Of course, I have to fight.No innocent person would sneak into our bedroom. Whoever this is means us harm. I'm sure of it.

The figure steps closer, walking carefully, trying to stay silent. They don't want anyone to know they're here. Not yet, anyway. They come close enough for the window to light up their heavy jacket and brown boots. It's a man, but I can't see his face.

His shadow shifts; he looks from my bed, to Kara's. I'm lightheaded from holding my breath. He reaches for her shoulder, moving in front of me, blocking my view. His back is to me. It's my best chance to attack.

As I'm about to whip my blankets off, the man stands straighter. His head rocks side to side, and I get the distinct impression he's confused. He buries his hand in his coat pocket, fumbling for something.

He's facing me and I know if I move, he'll see it. But the element of surprise is pointless if he's about to draw a weapon. I can't chance it—I have to do somethingnow!

“What the fu—!” he manages to spout as I throw myself from the bed and tackle him to the floor. We hit so hard the wooden boards rattle. Whatever was in his hand skids a few feet away and lights up the room; a phone?

It's still too hard to tell whom I'm wrestling with. It's obvious he's big, though, his fingers burrowing into the flesh of my arms as he rolls me off of him. Grunting, he backs away, nearly crushing his phone under his heel. “Dumb bitch,” he pants. That voice, I know it. “You never learn, do you?”

He lunges at me, and behind him, I see Kara sit up. She's a blob of ink in the dark, I can't see her expression, but her shout is full of surprise. “Laiken!” she cries.

The man pulls up short, the light of his cellphone cascading upwards from near his feet. It's enough to outline his jaw, his confused yet piercing eyes. It's Vahn, Dominic's uncle. Why the hell ishehere?

Vahn turns, staring back at Kara, then at me again. “It's too damn dark in here,” he grumbles. “I thought she was you.” Bending down, he grabs the phone and shines it my way. I'm blinded. I throw up an arm to shield myself. “No wonder I couldn't tell. You cut your damn hair.”

“Why are you here?” I ask, bending my knees. I need to be ready to move.

He takes a step towards me. “For you.”

Kara jumps off her mattress, looping her arms around Vahn's throat from behind. “Laiken, run!” she shouts, wrenching herself backwards, trying to take him to the floor.

Vahn grabs her wrists, hunching himself forward and lifting her from the ground. It takes him no effort to flip her over his back and slam her onto the floor. She lands with a gasp, and I stare, paralyzed by shock.

“It's too damn hard to see,” he growls. His long arms tear the curtains from the window roughly enough that the metal rod clatters loudly to the ground. Moonlight filters in to brighten the bedroom. It highlights the length of metal among the crumpled curtains. All of those things were brand new. Vahn is ruining all our efforts to fix this place. He's ruiningeverything.

I can see my sister on the floor now. She lies there with her mouth open, face scrunched in pain. There's not much space to move in here with both of the beds. I rush towards Vahn, backing him towards the window. He sees me coming, bracing himself like a football player ready to take a solid hit.

Curling my hand, I try to slash at his eyes, but he leans out of my reach. His grin is triumphant. “You two really are so similar,” he says. “Always fighting even after you've clearly lost.”

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