That slam against the cabin door? Yeah, it rattled the whole damn place. Every knock felt like someone drumming right on her nerves, not just the wood. She jerked, breath quick and sharp, and her hand shot out—grabbed a fistful of his shirt like she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat.
He didn't budge. Not even a twitch. Dude looked ready to explode, every muscle rigid, like some big cat crouched and waiting. But he just…waited. No panic. Not yet.
He caught her gaze, then tapped a finger across her lips—barely even a touch, but it sent a shiver racing down her spine. Hard to say if it was terror or…well, something way messier.
The banging came again, a little slower this time. Like whoever was out there wanted them sweating. Drawing it out. Total power move.
Her heart was thumping so loud it should've been echoing off the walls. She leaned in, cheek brushing his shoulder, and whispered, "You think they know we're here?"
His jaw clenched up, tight as hell. "They wouldn't bother knocking if they didn't."
Well, that just punched a hole straight through her stomach.
Then, nothing. Just silence. The kind that cranks every creak and groan of the cabin up to eleven. The wind outside sounded like it might rip the roof clean off. She huddled closer, blanket slipping away, and his arm slid around her without a thought—solid, warm, the anchor she needed.
Another noise. Not the door this time.
Scraping. Metal on wood. Knife maybe, tracing the edge of the doorframe. Whoever it was, they were playing.
Her pulse went wild. "They're trying to get in…" Her voice was practically a squeak, all splinters and panic.
He ducked down, so close she could feel his breath on her ear. "Let 'em try," he whispered, low and lethal. "They'll have to go through me."
God, she wanted to believe him. Cling to that bravado and just melt into it, but fear kept gnawing at her, sharp and relentless.
The scraping quit. Silence again. The kind that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.
They barely breathed. Both just listening, every muscle wound tight.
Then, right outside—someone's voice, all smug and sing-song.
"Open the door… we know you're in there."
Her stomach bottomed out. She squeezed his arm like a lifeline, and for the first time, his hand closed over hers—steady, strong, a wordless promise that he wasn't letting go.