Ava
The room feels suffocating, closing in on me as I toss and turn in the small bed. I should be asleep by now, but even in the darkness, I can see the events of today playing out in front of me.
This morning, everything was normal, or at least I was ignorant of the fact that it wasn’t. Now I’m in a cabin in the woods with a man who has my past in his head.
I go through it all over and over again.
Thoughts of my sister's safety intertwine with doubts about trusting Ellis despite his kindness and familiarity. And beneath those worries lies an unsettling truth: Breaker is just a few steps away, and something has changed between him and me.
I can't take it anymore. Rolling out of bed, I make my way into the main room, hoping another drink will settle my nerves. The fire casts flickering shadows on the walls, accentuating Breaker's strong silhouette as he sits alone, staring into the flames. His muscles tense when he hears me approach, and those intense eyes lock onto mine.
"Are you okay?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.
"Can't sleep," I admit, rubbing my arms to ward off the chill. "My mind won't stop racing."
"Here." He reaches for the bottle of scotch.
“Thought you’d never offer,” I tease, trying to inject some lightness into my tone.
He pours me a glass, his movements smooth and precise. "Couldn’t sleep myself."
"Must be catching," I take a sip, feeling the liquid warmth slide down my throat and spread through my chest. It's comforting, in a way. Breaker watches me closely, and something about his gaze steadies me.
"You hungry?" he asks, getting up from his chair. I hadn't even realized how empty my stomach felt until he mentioned it.
"Yes, actually, I’m starving," I state.
“Probably why you couldn’t sleep,” Breaker replies.
“It’s a long list,” I say.
Breaker opens the cupboard, revealing the supplies Ellis must have left for us.
“Well, what do ya know, Ellis strikes again,” Breaker says with pride. I know, I shouldn’t doubt Ellis. Without him, we probably would be six feet under by now.
I watch Breaker as he takes down some bread, peanut butter, and potato chips from the cupboard and begins to assemble our makeshift meal.
I can't help but feel a strange sense of intimacy now between us; it's as if, for a moment, we're simply two people sharing a quiet late-night snack, the chaos of our lives temporarily forgotten.
"Here," he says, handing me a plate with a peanut butter sandwich and a small pile of chips. "Eat. You'll feel better."
"Thank you." I take the plate from him, our fingers briefly brushing against each other. The contact sends a jolt through my body, and I wonder if he also felt it.
We eat in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. My worries about my sister and Ellis fade into the background as I become more aware of Breaker's presence, the way his muscles shift beneath his shirt when he moves, those intense eyes that seem to see straight through me. There was something familiar about him, calling to me on a deeper level—a level I do not understand.
"Breaker," I whisper, my voice barely audible above the crackling fire.
He looks up, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"
"You make a mean peanut butter sandwich," I tell him.
He takes a nervous sip of his scotch, his eyes flicking over his glass into mine. “It’s a talent I don’t like to brag about.”
“A man of many, it seems,” I say, knowing the scotch has loosened my tongue, but I don’t care.
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