Page 29 of Lost to the Woods

I flip him the finger. “Eyes on the road.” There’s nothing funny about what happened in Alaska. Sasquatch may be a stretch, but it was something supernatural—no doubt about it.

“And you two?” Kendra turns her head toward us.

I peer up at Ghost before answering in a lowered voice, “Wendigo and Skinwalkers.”

Dev nearly swerves. “What? No way!” He checks the rearview like we’ve lost our minds, his smile completely erased now.

“That creep isn’t a reliable source. We’re not using that,” Ghost snaps, ignoring everyone else’s confusion. He doesn’t even look at me when he says it, which somehow makes it worse. “End of discussion,” he finishes flat.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from talking back. Mark seemed pretty normal to me. I don’t get what his issue is. But I have to agree—we’re not touching any of that.

“Well, fyi, we grabbed some frozen pizzas for dinner since, apparently, they don’t deliver where we’re staying,” Kendra jumps in, trying to lighten the mood. “And also, a couple of bottles of vodka.”

“Perfect! Just what I need.” Honestly? Alcohol sounds incredible right now.

“You can’t handle your liquor,” Ghost comments, skeptical.

I arch a brow at him. “Excuse me, Dad. I don’t remember asking for your permission,” I shoot back, because one thing I can’t handle is his brooding.

Dev cracks up from the front seat. “Damn, Bun! That was cold.”

I flash him a mock salute. Ghost says nothing. Typical.

But the rest of the drive falls into awkward silence.

When we finally pull up to the Airbnb, I step out a little too fast and stretch like I’ve just escaped a coffin. Kendra sidles up to me the second we’re inside.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” she hisses, dragging me toward the hallway like it’s an emergency.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I act oblivious.

“You and Ghost. You could cut the tension in that car.”

I shrug, then remind myself she’s been flirting with him the entire time we’re here. “Why have you been acting weird around him?” I give her a death stare.

She snorts. “Seriously? So you’d get pissy and jealous and finally realize you still have feelings for him. Duh.”

I blink. “Huh?”

“You two are perfect for each other,” she says with a smirk. “Go for it.”

“But it didn’t work then.”

Kendra crosses her arms. “Right. That’s why you cried for two whole months after you two stopped talking?”

I open my mouth. Close it again.

She just raises her brows in victory.

Thankfully, Nate’s voice echoes down the hall, calling us into the living room so I can dance away from this conversation.

We follow the sound, and soon everyone’s sprawled across mismatched couches and floor cushions, half a bottle of vodka already cracked open. Kendra puts on music—some indie playlist she insists is perfect for “paranormal vibes”—and Dev starts charging the cameras for tonight. Whether we catch anything real or fake some activity for views, the plan’s the same: stir shit up, and hope for a flicker of something creepy.

I settle into the corner of my seat, drink in hand, trying not to feel Ghost’s eyes on me. But he watches. Healwayswatches. Especially as I down my drink faster than I should. The burn goes down smooth now that the buzz is settling in. He doesn’t say anything—just gives a single nod and stands, disappearing out onto the wide, open-air porch that wraps halfway around the house.

Kendra clinks her glass against mine. “Cheers, bitch,” she grins, and I knock the rest of my drink back like a dare. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

I roll my eyes, then follow him outside, the old wooden planks creaking beneath my feet.

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