Chapter 5
Taylor
At first, all I felt was the soft, warm sensation of something wet brushing across my face. Awareness came to me gradually, like a heavy fog lifting from my mind.
Gradual. Like autonomous movement of my body.
One lid was all I managed to lift, and was promptly met with a large, pink tongue lapping at me. Blinking stupidly, I waited for the haze to dissolve completely before attempting to keep the golden Lab at bay.
Dog? My mouth moved, but no sound came out. My throat felt as dry as the critter’s nose was wet, nudging my cheek. That, combined with the warning pulse of a looming migraine, almost distracted me from the warmth.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew that there was something wrong with that. Cold. Freezing cold rooted in my very bones. That was what I should’ve been.
But this warmth enveloped me completely.
I squinted against the soft, diffused light filtering through frosted up windows. Inside. I was inside and warm. My view was quickly blocked by the golden Lab’s face, eyes studying me with open curiosity as he panted, tongue out. Then it darted for me again, lapping my cheek.
As my mind cleared, memories returned in fragments. I remembered the hike, the relentless storm, and the impossible cold that had gripped me. I pressed back into the pillows, partly to distance myself from my over-friendly watcher, partly to brace myself.
It was like I was free-falling down that slope all over again. Hidden rocks stabbing at me, hitting my head once I reached the bottom in a pathetic heap…
Regret washed over me, icy and sharp. I should’ve listened to Alex. Alex, and every other person who’d warned me about the storm. I should’ve chosen reason over stubbornness.
My heart constricted with a mix of emotions, and as though sensing my growing unease, the golden Lab whined softly beside me. Out there, in the merciless storm, I should’ve died. The biting cold should’ve claimed me and made me pay for being a complete and utter dumbass.
But I wasn’t dead or frozen. I was somewhere safe and warm.
The snug embrace and affectionate canine company starkly contrasted with the frigid despair I’d felt outside. I closed my eyes briefly, allowing the sensations to wash over me as I soaked in the reality of my situation.
A cabin. That much I was certain of. The definition of coziness, its wooden walls exuded warmth and safety. Some of that could be owed to the fire somewhere nearby. I could hear the inviting crackle of the wood and see the way the flickering shadows danced across the room.
The scent of something delicious wafted through the air, making my tummy growl.
We weren’t alone, the Lab and I. Unless the dog had some serious skills in the kitchen.
No sooner had that thought occurred to me than panic set in, overriding the mild curiosity with which I was taking in my surroundings. What if I’d been plucked from the snow by a madman? A creep, or a weirdo looking to wear my skin…
My mindset shifted as I looked around again. The room was tastefully decorated, with rustic furnishings that spoke of a life lived simply but comfortably. Nothing wrong with that. Certainly not enough to ring any alarm bells.
A plush couch sat in the middle of the open living room, facing the fireplace with its back to me. Candid black and white photographs were scattered about, but I couldn’t really make out any of the faces. Crazy killers didn’t do that, did they?
Unless they were keepsakes of past victims, and my face would be in a frame soon.
“Okay, I’m out,” I mumbled to myself, finding my voice for the first time. It was croaky. My throat still hurt, but none of it mattered in the face of my inevitable demise.
Panic surged through me as I reached for my phone on the bedside table, only to find it absolutely not there.
Because it wasn’t my bedside table. I scanned the room frantically, pushing up onto my elbows to get a better view.
A creeping unease settled over me. I couldn’t see any of my things.
Not my clothes, not my bulky hiking backpack, nothing.
With trembling hands, I peeled back the covers, and a gasp escaped my lips. I was completely naked, save for a bandage carefully wrapped around my left thigh. Fear and confusion twisted my insides, the knot of anxiety tightening with each passing second.
Clutching the blanket tightly around me, I forced myself to get up. My body felt far too big for me, too heavy, like I was some weak toddler trying on a grown-up meat suit. But I got up anyway. If I was going to go down, the headlines would say that I went down fighting.
My heart raced, its frantic rhythm echoing the disarray of my thoughts. I needed to leave. To escape? Get out. But I didn’t know where to start.
“911.” It was a breath, not yet a whisper, but just the feel of those numbers in my mouth spiked my panic.
All of a sudden, I no longer cared about calling the cops. All I wanted was to hear the voice of any one of my friends telling me that I was going to be okay. Alex, Hayden, anyone.
“Serves me right,” I chastised myself, looking under a coaster and then tossing it aside. As if it was the coaster’s fault it wasn’t hiding my enormous hiking backpack underneath.
Stumbling and fumbling around, I searched for my clothes, my phone, anything familiar that would offer a lifeline out of this place. My head ached and spun at the same time, and a lingering sense of wooziness made each movement feel like the most exhausting ordeal in the history of human movement.
How had I ended up here, undressed and alone? What was up with the creepy dog who refused to leave my side?
I looked down, and the Lab was right at my feet, staring up at me with big brown eyes.
It had followed my path around the side of the bed, and now seemed quite happy to stand with me in the middle of what looked like a reading nook.
A small kitchen flanked my left, and the living room was over on my right.
“Hey,” I mumbled to him as I continued my search, voice trembling slightly. “You seem like you know your way around here. Mind giving me a hand, or… a paw?”
The golden Lab looked up at me with those warm, expressive eyes, but made no move to assist. Instead, he emitted a soft whine and nuzzled his head against my leg.
I sighed and carried on looking around, noticing the way he stayed close beside me.
It was as though he sensed my unsteadiness, my confusion, and wanted to offer his silent support.
A small smile tugged at my lips despite the anxiety that still gripped me. In this strange and surreal moment, the steady companionship of a loyal dog was an unexpected comfort. I’d never been a dog person. Or cat one, for that matter.
A sound from the living room caught my attention and I looked over, expecting to find my killer brandishing his weapon of choice my way.
I froze, my heart in my throat, blood pumping loudly in my ears.
Because there was a head. Popped up over the back of the couch that, from my previous vantage point in bed, looked empty. Now I was staring at a set of impossibly blue eyes, partially obscured by a sleep-induced shock of dirty blonde hair. Staring at her staring back at me, looking equally alarmed.
“Did you knock me out or something?”
I don’t know what I was thinking, but the look on her face made me feel like she wasn’t expecting to see me up and about. It would explain why I still felt so woozy.
Her big blue eyes narrowed slightly. “No, you took care of that yourself coming down my hill.”
The stranger sat up, exposing more of herself over the back of the couch. I instantly remembered how exposed I was, standing there wearing nothing but the blanket I’d pulled from her bed. I clutched it tighter around me, feeling painfully vulnerable in my nakedness.
She was beautiful. Flawless, actually, and I rather inconveniently found myself at war with the heat seeking sensations the sight of her conjured up in my body.
Not fair at all. And so not the time for it.
“Where are my things?” I finally asked, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice.
She pointed toward the door, and my eyes fell on my soaking wet hiking backpack. Then she said, “Clothes are over here, in front of the fire.”
People with sinister intentions don’t graciously save you from snowstorms and then dry your clothes while you’re passed out, do they?
“Thank you for… saving me, I guess,” I started, shifting my weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. My knuckles bled white the way I was gripping the surrounding blanket. “And my clothes. I have to go. I have to get back to my motel, and-”
“First search and rescue’s free. It’s a hundred billion dollars for every other one after that.” The woman’s face was unmoving. If it weren’t for the slight glint in her eye, I might’ve never known she was kidding.
Her warmth warmed me up a little more, and that panic from before started to subside. What witchcraft was she working with?
“Like I said, I’m grateful for the help, but I can’t just hole up here indefinitely. I have work, and-”
“The storm’s only going to get worse.” She cut me off again. “If you leave now, there won’t be any lucky breaks to hope for. You’re doomed, and your work will have to do without you, anyway. So, you might as well just wait it out.”
A sardonic laugh fluttered out of me, even with the pain it caused in my ribs to do it. “Listen, you don’t know the first thing about me or my work. I have to go. I’ll call ahead and let them…”
I tried to push myself, but my body protested. Dizziness washed over me like a tidal wave, and my legs turned to jelly beneath me. The wooziness I’d been fighting came at me with double the punch and I stumbled to the side, my vision swimming.
It all happened so fast, but not fast enough for me not to realize I was going to crash into the hardwood floor. I yelped, arms flailing to escape from their blanket prison and break my fall. But it was all in vain, because the woman had somehow made it across the room just in time to catch me.
She held me steady, her arms strong and reassuring, and I had no choice but to relent. The simple act of standing had drained me, and then there was still the matter of my grumbling belly.
“Want me to dress you and walk you to the door?” she asked. “Of course, I’ll call ahead, and all that other stuff, too.”
Oh, she was a feisty one, all right. It made her even hotter.
“Okay, okay.” I gave in, biting back a small, embarrassed laugh. “I won’t say you’re right, because I never do that. But I’ll wait a little longer before heading back.”
She led me back to her bed, and I let her, holding onto her arm for support. The golden Lab’s nails clicked against the floor as he followed, panting happily. Although now, he was at his owner’s side instead of mine. I felt a little betrayed by that small shift in attention.