Page 91 of Swept Away
The party, the gift I got from Christopher, and these two showing up unannounced and trying to scare me.
It’s almost two o’clock in the morning when the road narrows to a dead end and thicker trees surround us.
A dark cabin looms in front of us as we roll into a round driveway.
This is the end of the road, from what I can see.
We haven’t seen any homes in over an hour.
So I don’t know what kind of cabin this is, but to me, for sure, it doesn’t look like a rental. Some place where tourists pay a fee to spend the night.
It doesn’t even look like someone's vacation home. It’s too isolated and far from everything.
I hope the place is stocked with food and water, as I only packed the bare necessities, and they travel light from what I can see.
What possessed them to pick a place like this?
I wish I knew.
Mason turns the engine off, and a curtain of silence falls over us.
He opens the door and picks up his things while I listen to the outside world.
There’s nothing other than some forest noise, the perfect moon, the trees, and the smell of dirt and leaves.
There’s nothing and everything at the same time.
Mason helps me out, and I straighten into a magical world. The place is frightening and mesmerizing at once.
They collect the bags, and I follow Mason with my backpack slung over my shoulder.
Moments later, he unlocks the door and steps in first to turn on the lights. Carter follows us and stops in the hallway while I inch closer to the rooms.
It’s a nice place with a modern kitchen and a large living room. A hallway. And what looks like a bedroom.
The entire layout and how tidy it is make me think, yet again, that this is not a rented property.
It feels more personal than that.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says to me as Carter seems to be quite familiar with the place.
“Is this yours?” I finally ask, no longer wanting to prolong the mystery.
“It was… once,” Mason says, making no sense.
“It’s still his,” Carter says while I move my eyes between the two of them, trying to understand. “He just doesn’t have good memories from living in it.”
“Carter?” Mason barks, and Carter moves to the refrigerator and looks for water, no longer willing to talk.
He pulls out a bottle of water and drinks half of it.
“Okay. I’ll use the bathroom then,” I say, eager to move away from them.
“It’s at the end of the corridor on the right,” Mason says, without looking at me.
I spin around and head in that direction, not sure if the three of us spending the night here is actually a good idea.
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