11. CHAPTER 11
E den was right.
Eden was so freaking right.
The storm was coming, and it’s big and bad and it’s gonna blow this shack down.
Every panel of wood is shaking around me, and every bit of dust, dead bug, and probably a ton of spiders have fallen from the roof on top of me.
The wind is howling through the cracks, and in spite of wearing every item of clothing I brought, it still slices at me like icy knives through the holes in the walls.
The glass rattles loosely in the window.
I pull my head inside the sleeping bag so there's at least some protection in case the hundred-year-old glass shatters.
I might actually die here.
The stove went out hours ago. I tried to keep it going for as long as I could, but gave up all hope once the tools started shaking on their rusty nails.
I took them all down, hid them under the cot and stacked the newspapers on top of them.
For hours Eden worked, hammering boards over his windows, stacking all the firewood that he could fit onto the porch, and hanging up tarps to stop the snow from coming in through the screens.
He moved his truck as close as he could to the front of the cabin, and I even saw him on the roof again, checking the work he’d made me help him with last week.
And all for what?
So he'd be safe?
So that he'd be warm and comfortable while he watched me suffer?
The man is a fucking narcissist.
It would have taken nothing for him to secure my window or give me one of the tarps, but he actively chose not to.
I held out some hope that he might at least leave me some food, but he was locked up inside before I even dove into my sleeping bag.
The wind shrieks, and the shack violently shudders.
I curl into a ball.
My breathing is hard and fast, as I suck down on the built up carbon monoxide trapped inside this cocoon with me.
All I wanted was to make some of my own calls; to dictate what happened in my own life.
I wrap my arms tighter around myself, shivering uncontrollably. My stomach gnaws with hunger—another painful reminder of my own stupidity. Jeon Jintae; small, stubborn, pathetic.
A deafening crack of thunder splits the air.
The wind howls, laughing at my terror.
The wood groans.
The tools rattle beneath me.
I’m alone. Just me and this relentless storm.
I don’t want to die like this.
A bolt of lightning strikes so close to the shack that I can see its light through the sleeping bag. Then, within a second, the thunder follows like cymbals in my ear, and I scream.
A second roll of thunder is close behind, but deeper, like a bang. Then the blizzard is inside with me.
I’m in the eye of the storm.
The squall cries out my name; "Jintae!”
I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to die.
There’s weight on me—this has to be it. A tree has fallen and I’m trapped beneath it.
“Jintae!”
The sleeping bag is pulled free of my hands.
My heart leaps traitorously, but I bury myself again. Maybe if I don't move, he’ll think better of his decision to come out here.
"Jintae!" Eden's voice booms. "Get the fuck up!”
I stay still, barely breathing.
Go away. Please, just go away.
Don’t make me look at you.
Don’t replace my spite with something I don’t understand.
"Don't make me drag you out."
But I won’t let him. I won’t allow him to force me back into that suffocating cabin where his hatred feels like a physical weight crushing me.
“Get up, you dumb fuck,” he yells, trying to force me, but I fight back, kicking at his side with both feet.
With my back against the wall and the opening of the sleeping bag around my chest, I glare at him through the chaos whirring around us. “Why? So you can feel better about yourself? So you can pretend you’re not a complete asshole for five minutes?”
Eden's eyes narrow dangerously. "You ungrateful brat. I'm trying to save your life."
"Oh, now you care? After leaving me out here to freeze? To starve? Fuck you, Eden."
"Fine, freeze to death. See if I give a shit."
My throat tightens.
A small, pathetic part of me wants to beg him to stay, but I swallow it down. I won't give him the satisfaction.
"Go on then!" I shout, hating how my voice trembles. "Run away. It's what you're good at!"
Eden whirls back around. "What did you say to me?"
I know I should shut up, but the words pour out anyway. "You heard me. You're a coward. That’s why you ran here instead of facing the real reason why Shawn would rather fuck Reeze instead of you."
In two long strides, he's looming over me. I shrink back instinctively, but force myself to meet his gaze.
"You don't know shit."
"I know enough. I know you're cruel. I know you're selfish. And I know I'd rather die than owe you anything else."
For a moment, I think he might hit me, but then something flickers in his eyes—hurt? Guilt, maybe? But it's short lived.
"Fuck this." Before I can react, his arms are around me. Sleeping bag and all, he hoists me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
"Put me down!" I scream, thrashing wildly. My fists pummel his back, but it's like hitting a brick wall. "Eden, I swear to God—"
"Shut up!" He tightens his grip.
I kick harder, twisting in the confines of the sleeping bag. "I hate you! Let go of me. Stop acting like a neanderthal!”
"Keep squirming, little man, and I’ll lock your ass in the back of my truck."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Try me," he threatens—stepping out into the blizzard.
The wind steals my breath as icy fingers claw at my exposed skin.
I shut my eyes and bury my face against Eden’s back, his body heat seeping through the fabric.
It feels like an eternity before we burst into the cabin.
Eden dumps me unceremoniously onto the floor, and I land with a soft thud; still cocooned in the sleeping bag.
Silence falls, broken only by our ragged breathing.
I wriggle free, and glare up at Eden.
He towers over me, chest heaving, snowflakes melting in his dark hair.
Our eyes lock, and neither of us move.
I want to look away, though I can’t. Those stormy eyes are holding me captive, and for a second, I glimpse something beneath the anger.
“My book!” I gasp, breaking us both out of the moment as I run to the door.
Eden grabs my wrist and pulls me all the way back to the sofa. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Fuck you!”
“Watch your mouth.”
"No, you watch your... everything!" I spit back, gesturing wildly like a madman. "My book is out there."
"It's just a damn book."
I lunge forward, fists clenching at my sides. "It's not just a book! It's... It's the only thing I have." My voice breaks, and I swallow hard against the lump in my throat.
"You ungrateful little shit. I just saved your life, and you're bitching about a book?"
"I didn't ask you to save me!"
“Please!” Eden barks out a harsh laugh. “You were practically begging for me to carry you out of there.”
“I was not.”
“So you weren’t clinging to my back?”
“I didn’t ask for help.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“Stop treating me like I’ll fall to pieces without you.”
“It’s hard to ignore the truth.”
I take a step closer and defiantly raise my chin. “You were the one who forced me out there in the first place.”
“And right now, I wish I’d left your scrawny ass out there.”
"Then why didn't you?" I whisper, hating how small my voice sounds.
"I... I don't know," Eden mutters, his voice losing its edge as he turns away to busy himself with the fire in the stove.
I sink into the worn couch, unsure of what to do next, because I want so much to keep lashing out at Eden.
“Look,” he says gruffly, still not facing me. "The storm's only getting worse. We're stuck here together, whether we like it or not."
I nod, even though he can't see me.
The cabin suddenly feels too small, and far too intimate.
I can smell Eden's cologne mixed with the scent of red alder smoke and those damn cigarettes. It's intoxicating, and I hate myself for noticing.
"I'll go back for your stuff when it's safe."
"Thanks," I mumble.
Eden grunts in response, finally turning to look at me. Our eyes lock, and for a moment longer than before, I see that same something in his gaze.