Chapter 18 #2
It was probably for the best, but the fact that he had been chopping wood like some kind of lumberjack machine for the better part of the day was a very clear statement that he wanted nothing to do with me.
We didn’t need that much wood. Sure, it was still fairly chilly and the cold swept in as soon as night fell, but it was the beginning of summer. Things were only going to get hotter.
And more boring.
There was nothing to do except reorganize the meticulously organized rations in the cellar—no thank you, there were probably bugs lurking down there—and bang out sets of push-ups for no apparent reason. Both of which seemed to occupy Jude just fine.
Me, on the other hand? I was miserable.
I would have killed for a board game or a deck of cards. Then again, cards were what got me into this mess.
No—Joel got me into this mess.
My stomach sank. Sure, we were twins, but I was the older one. And being the girl, my parents were more than happy to let me shoulder more responsibility than Joel had.
I was Joel’s keeper. But I hadn’t kept him out of the shortsighted decisions he had made, and he had pulled me into the mess with him.
Maybe it was good that he had been fired. I had no idea what his job would think had happened to him when he didn’t log in to work the day after being kidnapped by Cole. My job wouldn’t expect me back until August.
So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. How much more would happen before students showed up to a lecture hall without a professor?
I lay on the bed, staring up at the wood slats that covered the ceiling, counting them over and over again until they started to merge and swirl.
I had clean clothes. I had food in my stomach. I was alive. I couldn’t complain about being bored.
Still, I looked longingly at the window.
Would Jude get mad if I went outside? I hadn’t dared to go further than the threshold of the door. I didn’t really want to go outside. The beach was my limit of outdoorsy-ness. I didn’t do trees. But I was really tired of staring at the cabin walls.
The moment I opened the door and poked my head outside, Jude snapped to attention, freezing mid-swing.
I looked around and assessed the damage he and that axe had done, then pretended to check an invisible watch. “Wow. You keep at it and you’ll have the forest cleared by dinnertime.”
Jude hid his sheepish look by slamming the axe blade into the stump he’d set each log on and began to stack the wood he had chopped up.
There was no way the two of us could avoid each other for the foreseeable future.
We had lucked out last night with both of us being too tired to care where we fell asleep.
But I had a feeling tonight would be different.
Instead of going back inside, I watched.
It was, frankly, infuriating for him to be so flipping sexy. I had never really looked at another person and thought they were sexy.
Then again, prior to a week and a half ago, I hadn’t met Jude—uh—well—I didn’t know his last name.
And honestly, I wasn’t sure if he would tell it to me.
Jude brushed past me, smelling like diesel and the forest, and set the axe inside.
Still, I didn’t leave the doorframe. I turned my head and looked at him. “Are there any activities down in the cellar?”
Jude arched an eyebrow. “Activities?”
“You know—books? Games? Cards? Something to do?”
“No one’s ever been here long enough to need activities,” he said without a hint of sarcasm as he strode to the sink and washed his hands.
“Right,” I said with a huff, then spun to face him. “Wait—do you mean they haven’t been here long because they were just passing through or because they died?”
Jude glanced over his shoulder. “Yes.”
Yes? Yes what? They died or they were just passing through or—oh.
He meant both.
Jude turned away as he dried his hands on a towel. I racked my brain, trying to unpack what his deal was, but he was locked up tighter than Fort Knox.
But being prepared—that was the one thing he took great pride in.
The truck being ready to go. The go bag with the phone and a few necessities. The cabin. The cellar. He had thought of everything.
Everything except being here longer than usual.
I clicked my tongue in obvious dismay. “Not gonna lie, I thought you’d be more prepared than that. I thought you’d want a happy hostage.”
“People who come here aren’t hostages.” Jude couldn’t keep the edge from his voice.
Ha. I was getting to him.
“Then what am I?”
Sharp eyes landed on mine, but I didn’t cower. “A pain in my ass,” he groused.
I smirked. Jackpot.
I just needed to get inside his head. I needed to figure out what his intentions were. If what he said was true and John Valentine was coming after him for disobeying orders and going on the run, was he just keeping me alive in order to use me as a bargaining chip when the time came?
But if that was true, why would he save Joel?
Had he really saved Joel? Or was Joel the ace up Jude’s sleeve?
And what was Jude’s last name? Maybe that bothered me most of all.