Torn

Chapter 7✓

Carter

Sheer, ice cold, raw fear overcomes me. My hands are shaking so violently making it hard to get the key to turn in the lock. Throwing the door open, it slams against the back wall before I burst in and close it with all my might, hitting the lock the moment the door is closed. I press my back to the door and slide to the ground as I listen. The sound of my harsh breathing and the pounding of my heart is all I can hear.

After a few minutes, I still haven't heard anything coming from outside. No rustling of leaves or gravel, no footsteps coming up onto the porch. I close my eyes and take a few deep and controlled breaths as I try to calm my adrenaline fuelled body.

I let myself sit on the floor for longer than I should have to try to regain my composure but I know someone has already come by after grandpa's death to lock the house and windows up, so there's no other way to get in. It gives me a moment to just be that I so desperately need.

What the actual hell just happened. I can't count the amount of times that Xavier, Quinn and I have walked those roads as kids and never had any issues. Those woods used to be my playground, my safe haven. I've never feared being alone before. I stand up slowly and turn to look out the little window beside the door but the sunlight had completely faded, leaving it too dark to make anything out now.

I turn and take in the dark cabin that I now stand in. It still smells like my grandpa; like cloves and Old Spice. I turn to my right and walk into the small living room. My grandpa's rocking chair still sits in the corner in front of the big bay window that overlooks the front of the cabin. A dark wooden coffee table sits in front of a small gray leather couch.

I walk over to the side table that holds a small lamp and flick it on. Soothing yellow light fills the living room. Someone must have tidied the cabin a bit when they came to lock it all up, as everything is sparkling clean. While grandpa was not a messy man, he was too old to get much done and currently, there's not a speck of dust on any surface.

After taking a look around the cabin to make sure it is indeed locked up tight and it didn't look like anyone was sneaking around, I double back to the living room and take a seat on grandpa's rocking chair. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around myself tightly and just breathe in his scent.

The weight of everything that has happened over the past few days falls heavily onto my chest, and a strangled sob escapes me. My nose burns as I clench my eyes together tightly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

I will never see my grandpa again. I will never hear him laugh or listen to him whistle and sing around the cabin. I will never again feel the warmth of his embrace or the sound of his voice as he called me his honey child. My chest heaves and my shoulders shake with the heavy tears that tumble freely from my eyes. I grab the thin maroon throw blanket that hangs from behind the rocking chair and swing it around my shoulders, allowing myself to just exist in the comfort of his things. Even if it's for just a few moments.

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The sudden sound of someone knocking on the door jerks me awake. Quickly looking down at my watch, I panic realising it was after eight pm. I must have fallen asleep at some point and managed to bail on Quinn.

I groan, leaning my head back against the rocking chair. I've been asleep for over two hours. I roll my eyes at my stupidity. Of course. I would be the one stupid enough to stand up one of the hottest men I've ever seen in my entire life.