Page 65 of You've Got The Love
He doesn’t answer right away.
“I keep thinking,” he says finally, “about what I’ll do if something happens to you. And I don’t like any of the answers.”
I reach for his hand, fingers just brushing his?—
When a sharp knock rattles the side of the cabin.
We both jolt.
Bas is on his feet instantly, eyes narrowing. “Stay here.”
He crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his pistol from the table without breaking stride. The air feels suddenly thinner, like the walls themselves are listening. I stay frozen, heart in my throat, watching him pause at the door.
He waits a moment. Listens.
Then he cracks it open, checks both directions, and slips out into the night.
The seconds stretch like hours. Every creak of the wood, every groan from the stove makes me flinch. I press my back to the wall and count his footsteps in my head—except I can’t hear any.
When he returns, it’s without a word at first. He shuts the door behind him slowly, carefully, and locks it. His face is pale, jaw tight.
“I think they’re testing us,” he says finally. “Trying to scare us. Let us know they’re near. Or an animal came too close. There are moose, red deer, and even brown bears that live in these forests.”
A chill moves down my spine. “So we’re not safe from both the MC and nowwildlife?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just pulls me into his arms and holds me there, his silence heavier than words. He doesn’t think it was an animal; that much is clear.
That night, I lie awake long after the fire dies down, staring into the darkness.
The shadows aren’t quiet anymore.
They press against the windows. Creep through the cracks.Wait.
The threat is no longer a shape on the horizon.
It’s here. Breathing down our necks.
And Bas… he’s quieter than usual.
Like he’s already preparing for the worst.
Because the world outside still wants to collect.
Chapter 35
Bastiaan
The night is cold and still, but my mind refuses to rest.
The cabin should be quiet enough to settle me—Amber’s soft breathing, the faint hiss of wind through the trees, the occasional creak of the wood.
It should make me feel safe.
Instead, the silence just makes the dark inside my head louder.
Sleep takes me eventually, but not gently. It comes quick, like being pulled under without warning.
I’m back in that hospital room.
