A/N:

Like I said in the beginning, I'm not aiming for absolute realism. Love it or hate it, that's how I'm doing it.

Beta is Lindz26. Pre-reader is MichelleMMarie—the sparkly skin to my emo vampire.

CHAPTER FOUR
*Not from 'Round Here*

The next morning, I woke up to find a sunken, empty spot on the sofa. The dogs weren't here, either, which had me wondering if this was part of a daily routine.

Last night, Masen had silently given me a pair of his pajamas, as well as a different set of sweats that consisted of dark gray sweatpants, a white undershirt, and a light gray fleece jacket. These fit better than my last pair, and I didn't have to roll down the waistband of the pants. Also, I noticed the last pair had sort of a musky scent to them; however, this didn't.

My stomach was begging me for food. I didn't feel comfortable eating anything while he was out…but that didn't mean I couldn't snoop around his kitchen a little. The cupboards had as little in them as possible—some plates, cups, bowls, a pot, and a pan. All of it was enough for one person to live off of. His refrigerator was another story; barely anything in it except milk, ketchup, mustard, and butter. The pantry had lots of canned foods. I sifted through them and pulled out one.

Vienna sausage.

Weird thing for a guy who lived in a secluded area to have in his pantry.

I swiftly placed it back on the shelf and shut the door when I heard some sort of commotion outside. Barking ensued and then the front door opened. Sadie bolted to me, as usual, her tail wagging. I smiled and bent down to stroke her fur.

Masen's quiet muttering caused me to look up at him. As he shut the door, I noticed he had a plastic grocery bag in his hand that said Longs Drugs. He took long strides to the table, tossed the bag on it, and then leaned against the back of the sofa, one of his ankles crossing over the other. His forest green eyes stared right into mine, catching me off guard. I didn't think he'd ever looked at me directly with me standing so near to him. His arms crossed over his chest, and my sight flitted down to them briefly, taking in how his toned muscles tightened with the movement.

"Where are you from?" he asked. Surprisingly, there was no usual hint of malice in his tone. It was just a straight up question.

I became nervous, because I knew my answer wouldn't please him. It wasn't like it pleased me, either. "I'm not sure," I answered truthfully.

After a moment of dead silence, he raised an eyebrow. "You don't know where you're from," he assessed. I could see the irritation starting to bubble to the surface, but he remained civil.

"No," I confirmed.

He shifted a little, uncrossing his ankles. "Did you fall into the river by accident?"

That could've been a possibility. I hadn't really thought of it. But I didn't know for sure, so I decided to be honest. "I don't know anything. I'm sorry. I just can't remember."

His crossed arms tightened even more, and his jaw clenched. He looked like he was trying really hard to control his temper. "What's your name?"

Now I was the one getting irritated. How many different ways would I have to say the same thing for him to get it? "When I told you I don't remember anything, I meant it," I replied, much more cattily than I probably should have.

His nostrils flared. "You're telling me you don't know your own name?" he asked.

"That's exactly what I'm—" Before I could finish, he stood ram-rod straight and walked to the refrigerator. I watched in silence as he opened the door and stared inside. There was hardly anything in there, so what was he looking at? I didn't have much time to question his action, because he suddenly slammed the 'fridge door loudly and spun around to face me again, the same blazing anger as always finally making its appearance.

"You know, I could give two shits where you're from or what your name is," he berated. "I'm just trying to help you out, so stop lying to me."

I was furious, because he hadn't believed a single word I'd said! "Lying to you?" I asked incredulously. "Why would I lie to you? I told you, I don't remember anything. And for the record, you have a funny way of helping me. You save me, and then you throw me out. You save me again, and then you yell at me and treat me like the dirt on your shoes!"

His eyes narrowed. "Well, if you hadn't walked right into Crowley's house, I wouldn't have had to see you again."

I snorted, trying not to show how offended I was. "Gee, thanks. Nice to know I've got someone looking out for me," I responded cynically. "Why didn't you just leave me at the river instead of taking me in?"

"Are you out of your damn mind?" he asked, as if I was the crazy one here. "And let you die?"

"Might as well have!" I exclaimed. Oh, what I wouldn't give to wring this guy's neck!

His hands balled into fists at his sides, and his breaths through his nostrils were loud and forceful. Instead of a response, he stalked off, going into the bedroom. After a second, I heard the bathroom door slam shut.

I wasn't going to back down—not with all this boiling hot adrenaline pumping through me—so I stormed into the bedroom and stepped right up to the closed bathroom door.

"And another thing. That Crowley guy needs to be behind bars," I spat, my voice loud enough to carry through the door, but there was no response from him. My knuckles rapped on the wooden barrier between us. "Hey! Did you hear me?" Just as I pressed my ear to the door to hear what he was doing in there, it flew open.

"Already taken care of," Masen murmured as he passed by me to head out of the bedroom.

I followed directly behind him. "What do you mean?"

He went back to the kitchen and opened the pantry door, stopping cold. "Did you go through my pantry?" he queried.

I sighed dramatically at him changing the subject. "Yeah, so?"

He turned around and stalked right up to me, his murderous glare more vicious than I'd ever seen it before. For a moment, I was almost scared of him.

"Listen to me, mouth," he started, nearly spitting on me, "just because you've wormed your way into staying—"

"Wormed my way?" I shouted in blasphemy, cutting him off.

"It doesn't mean you can go through my shit and move things around!" he finished.

I huffed. "Oh, so I'm supposed to stand here, say nothing, do nothing, and be nothing?"

Our bodies were so close to each other. I could feel the hum of our anger vibrating around us. He was trying to control me, but I wasn't as submissive as he'd like. This bugged him. It thrilled me.

"You sleep in the bedroom. You eat at the table. Use the bathroom. That's it," he commanded. "Don't touch anything else. Clear?"

"Crystal," I replied sardonically.

"And don't think I don't see you feeding my dog under the table," he growled.

In one retrospect, I felt like a five year old caught with their hand in the cookie jar, but in another, I didn't give a damn. "Well, if you gave her some attention, then I wouldn't have to sneak around."

If possible, he stepped even closer to me. My neck was aching from having to look directly up at him. "You telling me how to treat my dog?" he asked threateningly. He was trying to scare me.

My heart was pumping so unbelievably fast. I needed to calm down. This was getting out of hand. So, I took a deep breath. "Sadie is such a sweet, little thing," I spoke in earnest, hoping he'd see truth to my words and change his behavior toward her.

In a swift movement, he grabbed the Longs Drugs bag and shoved it into my arms. "If you're staying, talk less," he said through gritted teeth.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath.

"What did you call me?"

I glowered at him. "I said you're an asshole!" I yelled, making sure he heard it this time, and quickly disappeared into the bedroom, slamming the door for effect.

Rage was fueling through me as I gripped the plastic bag, easily tearing a big hole in it. The items inside tumbled out, clattering to the ground—a bar of soap, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.

I was calming down now, able to think clearly instead of being blinded by hatred. Maybe in Masen's own way, he was actually trying to help me. I just wished more than anything that he didn't have to be so disgruntled all the time. I didn't want to leave, because I had nowhere to go, but staying would involve dealing with his lack of civility. Could I do that? He infuriated me almost every minute, but times like this showed he wasn't completely heartless.

With a sigh, I opened the bedroom door and walked out to call a truce; however, he wasn't here anymore. On the table, there was a yellow and white striped towel with a price tag still attached. It looked like something you'd take to the beach. I picked it up and brought it to my face. Soft. I took it with me back into the bedroom and decided to take a shower.

I'd thank him later.

X-X-X-X

I was sitting on the couch, my back against the armrest, and my legs extended across the cushions with Sadie between my knees. Her beady little eyes were closing as I scratched behind her floppy ears.

Masen had been gone a while—maybe four or five hours. There didn't seem to be any clocks around, so I couldn't be sure. Where did he go? His truck was still here, so that meant he'd walked somewhere.

I got up and spent the remainder of the afternoon inspecting the ripped up clothes that were supposedly mine. They were definitely ruined, but with a little patching up here and there, they could be wearable again. The issue was I had no idea how to sew. Well, maybe I did know how to, but I just couldn't remember. Either way, I presently had no knowledge on how to fix the tears and rips in my clothes. Defeated, I stored them in the closet.

My eyes flitted up to the top shelf where a shoebox rested. Naturally, I was curious what was in there. I knew that if I tried to reach for it, my arms would be too short. Various methods started running through my head of how to attain it.

Suddenly, I heard the front door open. I exited the bedroom, seeing Masen standing in front of the unlit fireplace. Our gazes locked, but neither one of us said anything. He had the eyes of someone that experienced life, and I wondered how old he was. He definitely had to be in his thirties. Mid-thirties? Late thirties?

How old was I? For the life of me, I had no idea. I couldn't even guesstimate. I felt like someone in their thirties, but whenever I would see my reflection, I looked relatively young. Perhaps in my twenties.

The connection was broken between us when Masen looked at Tucker, who had plopped himself down by his feet. I decided to take advantage of this momentary reprieve.

"Thank you," I spoke, causing him to look back at me. I didn't like not knowing what he was thinking. "You know, for buying those things earlier."

He nodded once curtly. After a moment, he moved to the front door, pulling it open. "Let's go," he demanded, with a glance over his shoulder.

Why couldn't he ever tell me beforehand where we were going?

In the truck, I could tell he had something to say. It was in the way he held himself, which I'd become very aware of. When he didn't feel the need to speak to me, his stance was casual, more relaxed. When he appeared to have the desire to talk, his overall body language became tense, rigid.

It was clear he didn't enjoy speaking to me. For some reason, I didn't take offense to that. Perhaps it was because as much as he preferred me silent, I felt the exact same way about him. He had the personality of an ogre.

"Listen good, because I'm only gonna say this once," he spoke finally as we drove down the truck made path through the forest. "On Fridays, I go into town to—"

"Where's town?" I asked hastily, cutting him off. It was an opportunity to figure out more or less where I was.

"Would you let me finish?" he snapped, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

I clamped my mouth shut in response.

He let out a sigh, and his hands relaxed. "We're leaving Redwood and heading to Redwood City," he responded begrudgingly.

Redwood and Redwood City…

Did those names ring any bells? They didn't seem to. What state were they in? Virgina? Connecticut? Maybe somewhere in the Midwest?

"I go into town to get supplies, food, whatever I need for the week," he continued. "On Friday evenings, I go to the tavern."

"And where are we going right now?" I questioned curiously.

"The tavern."

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "We were there just last night. Wouldn't that make today Saturday?"

"I need a drink," he muttered tersely under his breath. I didn't think I was meant to hear that, but I did. "Next Friday, you can come into town with me and get whatever you need."

"Um, okay," I agreed, a little more than surprised at his kindness. "But why not tomorrow?"

"I already told you, I go on Fridays." He cast me a brief sideways glance before focusing on the road again. "You know, you ask a lot of damn questions."

I pursed my lips, watching him intently. He seemed aggravated. What was new? "I'm just trying to figure you out," I admitted.

"There's nothing to figure out. I go out on Fridays. The end."

I noticed us turning into the tavern, which put an end to our conversation, if I could call it that. He didn't even wait for me as I got out. By the time I locked and closed the passenger door, the entrance door to the tavern slammed shut.

There weren't as many men as last night, but then again, it was still kind of early. Masen was already seated at his usual stool. Just like the previous time I was here, I sat a few stools away from him.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," a feminine voice said behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, seeing that friendly woman I'd talked to yesterday.

She had an empty tray balancing on the palm of her hand and set it down on the counter, then took a seat on the stool next to me. "I knew you'd be back. I just didn't think it'd be so soon," she said, and glanced down the bar, pursing her lips thoughtfully. She looked back at me and grinned. "I don't believe I ever introduced myself. I'm Alice. I run this joint. Well, me and my husband."

I smiled back at her. I liked the name Alice. I was almost jealous that wasn't my name…that I knew of. "I'm…" I began to say, but trailed off sadly. I didn't have a name to introduce myself with.

"Let me guess," she started, a twinkle in her eye, "you don't know." She laughed lightly at herself, shaking her head in amusement. "Can I get you anythin', sugar?"

I frowned. "I'm sorry. I don't have any money."

She clicked the roof of her mouth with her tongue and shot a glare down the bar at Masen, who wasn't even paying attention to us as he took a bill note out of his wallet. "Don't worry," she whispered to me. "It'll be on the house. Just don't tell the ol' ball and chain." She smiled mischievously and grabbed her tray as she stood.

"Thank you," I said in earnest. "You're too kind."

Alice waved me off and left me, appearing behind the counter a moment later. She busied herself, while I glanced around. Carmen was here, making the rounds as she brought customers drinks. I watched the moment she spotted Masen, how the corner of her mouth turned up slightly. She made her way behind the counter and stood in front of him, speaking something I couldn't hear, due to the loud male voices.

She seemed awfully chummy with him. I couldn't really tell if he was the same with her, because he was like a closed book. With his wonderful personality, I didn't think anyone could be attracted to him. Apparently, that wasn't the case, because Miss Breasts Spilling out of Her Top was really laying it on thick with him.

Good Lord. I already sounded like Alice and I hardly knew her!

Speaking of…Alice came back to me with some sort of dark drink. She said it was just a Rum and Coke. Tasted good—fizzy with a punch.

My eyes wandered back to Masen and Carmen. She handed him a mug of beer and took the money, but she didn't leave. She lingered to talk.

"Wonderin' about them two, aren't ya?" Alice asked.

"Oh, uh, no," I fumbled, embarrassed that I'd been caught staring at them.

"It's okay. You can be honest with me," she assured, and I felt like I really could. "I don't know much 'bout him, but I know a lot 'bout her. Twenty-six years old. She's been 'round a time or two, let me tell ya." Alice leaned over the counter a little toward me. "I heard through the grapevine, she had an affair with a married man. Got him to divorce his wife and everythin'."

My eyes shot to Masen, who was now very much alone as he drank his beer. I didn't know what to think about this. Was it true?

"You're curious if it's Masen and her," she said, reading my thoughts. "Like I said, I don't know much 'bout him."

"What do you know, then?" I asked.

"He's not from 'round here. Came 'bout four years ago and stayed ever since," she revealed. "Every Friday, without fail, he's in here. Never speaks to a soul…well, except Carmen. My husband has talked to him a few times, as well, but she's the only one who knows how he likes his beer." She huffed. "Lord knows, I tried, but that man is finicky. Only likes a thin layer of beer head or whatever—the hell if I know. My husband might know, too, but he's always in the back."

So, he was from somewhere else originally, came here, and pretty much only spoke to Carmen. What Alice said about her having an affair with a married man seemed to fit—Edward being the married man…or once married man.

Maybe I shouldn't believe something like that unless I knew for sure.

"How is it that you come in here with Masen, but you don't know nothin' 'bout him?" Alice inquired curiously.

"I'm just staying with him," I answered truthfully, and she quirked an eyebrow. "To be honest, you know more about him than me."

"That's just strange," she remarked.

I shrugged, not really knowing what to else to say.

"And he makes you wear these awful men's clothes that do nothin' for ya?" she queried.

I looked down at myself. These sweats were comfortable, but they definitely weren't something I'd pick for myself. "My other clothes are ruined," I admitted.

Alice cocked her head to the side and then shook her head. "Up," she demanded.

"What?" I asked.

"Come with me. I'm gonna fix this right now."

I looked at Masen hesitantly, wondering if I should tell him I was leaving.

"Don't worry, hun. He'll still be here when you get back," Alice assured.

I didn't know where she was taking me, but I followed her through a door behind the counter, which led to a small kitchen. Alice steered me to a door at the other end of the kitchen. She knocked twice on it, turned the knob, and pushed the door open without waiting for an answer.

"Puddin', you got the house keys?" she asked into the room.

I stepped next to Alice, and my eyes raked over a small office with a desk and a very old looking computer on it. There was a black door next to it, making me wonder where it led to. Sitting at the desk was a wavy haired blond man that looked to be in his late thirties. He stood, showing how tall and stalky he was. In comparison to Alice, he was a giant, but in comparison to me, he seemed about average height for a male.

As he grabbed a set of keys off the desk, his guarded eyes roamed over me. "Who might this be?" he asked Alice, but remained looking at me. He had a heavier southern accent than she had.

"Oh, don't ask that," Alice whispered to him, and winked at me with a secret smile.

He broke his observation on me and regarded her. "Ya hear Crazy Crowley's been taken in?"

"God almighty! It's 'bout time!" she exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

A crease formed on my brow at the mention of that loon. "Taken in?" I questioned. How did these people know about him? Did they know what he almost did to me?

"Arrested," the man answered. "Not sure why, but I'm hearin' there was an anonymous tip."

"I'm glad he's gone," Alice remarked. "He was a black cloud hangin' over this town. No one knows for sure if he's ever done anythin'. Oh, but there's stories, alright."

I remembered Masen had said something about it already having been taken care of. That must've meant he knew about the arrest.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sugar. Where are my manners? This is my husband, Jasper," Alice introduced. "We've been married fourteen years. Lord, that makes me sound ancient. I was twenty-one at the time."

"And ya still are to me," Jasper crooned to her, a slight smirk twisting his lips.

Alice let out a very unattractive snort. "What do ya want?" she prompted.

His smirk grew. "A beer would be nice."

"Later. I've got some things to do," she replied, and hooked her arm around mine. "C'mon, missy." She led me away from the office and through another door that opened to a modestly sized living room with '70s styled furniture. "Never trust that man when he starts complimentin' ya. Always got somethin' up his sleeve."

There was a plate of a half eaten steak and an empty bottle of beer on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Alice picked them up and disappeared through a door, while I stayed rooted to my spot, listening to the muffled sounds of the voices from the bar.

"So, you gonna tell me why you don't know your name?" Alice called out.

"I can't really remember anything until a couple days ago," I answered. My eyes caught sight of a picture frame on the side table next to the couch. I moved to it and observed the photo of what looked like a teenage Jasper and Alice sharing cotton candy at a carnival. They seemed so obliviously happy, causing a pang in my chest. What was that? Envy?

She came out, closing the door behind her. "Like amnesia?" she questioned.

Amnesia. So, that was what I had?

Great.

"I guess so," I replied with a frown.

She sat down on the arm of the sofa, looking intently at me. "And you got this for no reason?"

"Well, no, I…uh…" Would she believe me if I told her? "I washed up from the river."

"Ya did?" she asked incredulously, and I swallowed thickly, scared she'd think I was insane. "What river?"

Did she actually believe me? Not even Masen believed me when I told him the truth. Alice looked almost intrigued.

"Some nearby river," I answered lamely. "I actually haven't seen it."

"It's probably the Wye River," she informed. "Some parts of it are really rough—lots of big drops, jagged rocks, that sorta thing. River raftin' is super popular 'round here."

My hand instinctively went to my head, rubbing a spot that had hurt for a while and thankfully didn't anymore. "I think my head must've hit one of those rocks."

"Let me see," she offered, and motioned me to sit on the couch. She carefully sifted through my hair, her fingers pressing against my scalp gently. A sharp but brief pain emitted from a spot she touched, causing me to wince. "Yeah, you got a big ol' bump here." She combed her fingers through my hair and then moved it all to sit on one shoulder. "You should get that checked out."

I shook my head. "No, it's okay," I responded.

She didn't reply straight away. "Well, alright, then," she acquiesced, and stood. "Come on."

I followed right behind her as we walked down a short hall with a door at the end. She pushed it open and flicked on a light as she entered, revealing a bedroom.

"It's a shame you don't know your own name, but when you do, let me know" she requested, sliding open a closet door. There were lots of outfits in there that she was looking at intently. "I've got some clothes here I don't think I can pull off anymore." She took three summer dresses off hangers and handed them to me. "I'd give you some of my old jeans, but I was real small back then."

"Really, you don't have to do this," I said, a little more than overwhelmed at her kindness.

"I insist," she replied, and looked down at my feet. "What on earth are those dirty ol' things you're wearing? Goodness gracious!" She turned back to her closet and started pulling out various shoes. "What size are you?" Before I could reply, she laughed. "I know what you're gonna say—you don't know." She dropped a pair of white ballet flats in front of my feet. "Try these on."

I sat on the bed and took off my shoes and socks, doing as she said. The flats were a little snug, but they actually allowed my feet to breathe, as opposed to my sneakers paired with Masen's thick socks.

"Perfect," Alice complimented. "I've got another pair in here, if you ever need 'em."

"Honestly, Alice, this is too much—" I began to say, before she cut me off.

"Oh, hush, sweet pea. I'll never wear 'em again, and by the looks of things, you need 'em. I'll just grab a bag for you."

When we went back out to the bar, Masen was gone. I inwardly started to panic. Had he left me here? Did he think I left him? I bid Alice goodbye, thanking her for her generosity, and then quickly made my way out of the exit.

As soon as I saw the dark green truck parked out front, I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't like that feeling of being abandoned. It didn't sit well with me and continued to leave an impression as I got in the truck where Masen was already waiting, looking rather impatient. He eyed my bag only briefly before he reversed out of the spot and turned onto the road.

X-X-X-X

A distant gunshot sounded, jolting me awake. I was breathing heavily. My hand came up to my forehead, touching the sweat gathered there. As fast as I could, I got out of bed and burst into the living room.

No one was here.

Shotgun was gone, too.

Masen.

I exhaled in relief and shook my head, almost laughing at my irrational jumpiness.

Another gunshot cracked outside, this time closer. My breath hitched sharply, taken aback, and my hand clutched my heart. Oh, I really did wish he'd stop shooting that thing. It was scaring me half to death!

Looking out the window, I saw it was barely light outside, and there was a thick layer of morning fog surrounding the cabin. It was kind of nice…peaceful. Well, since I was awake, maybe I'd take a walk outside.

After a quick shower, I looked at the three dresses Alice had given me that were now hanging up in the closet. One was white with multi-colored floral print on it, another had white and light blue pansy print with lace for straps, and the last was a navy blue button-down with white polka dots and thin straps that tied at the shoulders. I went with the pansy print dress, liking how feminine it looked.

There was one thing bugging me as I put it on. It came up to just above my knees, which meant my legs would be showing. My legs were hairless. I didn't have a razor, and by the looks of things, I didn't need one, because I wasn't growing any hair. It was odd. Though, to be honest, I didn't mind.

The dress was kind of tight, but I was glad it fit, because I didn't like wearing Masen's sweats, even with as comfortable as they were.

Once I slipped on my new flats, I left the house through the front door. Almost as soon as I stepped off the porch, another gunfire shot through the air a distance away. Through the fog, I couldn't make Masen out, so I began walking toward where I heard the gunshot.

The ground was moist and the air was cold, causing goose bumps on my arms. There were so many daises littering the ground the further away I got from the cabin. I bent down and picked one with all its petals intact. It was wet from the fog, but still beautiful. A petal easily gave way as I plucked it and let it flutter to the ground.

Another gunfire.

It rang through my ears, making me cringe.

The fog started to thin, and that was when I saw him. He was standing in a small clearing, aiming his shotgun to the sky. His face was that of someone concentrating with everything they had. It didn't even look like he was breathing. His dark hair was a bit of a mess, most likely from sleep, which made me wonder what time he got up.

Instead of taking a shot, he brought the gun down and positioned the sling around his shoulder. He stuck his thumb and index finger in his mouth. A loud whistle echoed through the forest. Two separate barks suddenly filled the air—Sadie and Tucker's—but the fog was still too thick to see anyone other than Masen.

He began walking in my direction, causing my body to freeze. Suddenly, Sadie appeared, running full pelt at me, her long ears flopping. She jumped at my legs and bounced off excitedly, wagging her little tail. When I looked back up at Masen, he was watching me. Tucker was right at his side, never moving an inch further than him.

I felt a little self-conscious under his expressionless stare, considering I was wearing something different, so I fiddled with the daisy in my hand, plucking petals.

He looked away and walked right by me without as much as a word. I turned and watched his back as he headed to the cabin.

"Sadie!" he called in that commanding tone I didn't like.

Sadie quickly left my side and caught up with him just as he stepped onto the porch and pushed open the door. I looked down at the daisy and realized I'd plucked almost half of the petals off.

I wasn't sure if I was hearing things, but I swore there was a faraway sound of gushing water. Was it the river? The place where I'd been found? I couldn't deny that I was curious about it. I wanted to see it. Maybe it could help me remember some things.

I took blind steps toward the sound, the fog only showing a few feet in front of me at a time. With every step closer, the river's roar grew louder, and my heart pumped faster. My breathing was picking up, and my eyes were growing wider.

I didn't like this feeling coursing through me. It was fear.

My feet suddenly felt like sludge. A small whimper escaped me and tears sprung to my eyes. I stopped moving, not sure what was happening to me.

I took one slow step back.

Then another.

Another.

My body was returning back to normal now. I could breathe easier. Before I knew what was happening, I was running back to the cabin as fast as I could. Relief washed over me when I reached the front porch. I was safe.

A/N:

Just for fun, can anyone take a guess what state this story is set? There's been a few clues in this and the past chapters.

Polyvore on the profile, if anyone's interested in a visual of our two leads.