“Crap!” I yell out and slam my palms against the steering wheel. Even in this unfortunate situation, I can’t force an actual swear word past my lips. I blow out a heavy exhale before resting my head on my arm. I need to get out of here before Xander finds me lingering on his property. I can’t even imagine his reaction.
My rear tires keep spinning as I slam on the gas again, hoping to actually gain traction this time.
Gosh, dang it! What am I supposed to do?
I grab my cell but since I’m apparently on the set of a low budget horror film, it has no reception. At least I was smart enough to pack a charger. I would laugh at the ridiculous cliché if I wasn’t the one stuck out here. I gnaw on my lip as the worry materializes and intensifies.
With one glance out the window, I know it’s a terrible idea to attempt hiking to the road in order to catch a signal. I wouldn’t make it. I can hardly see a few feet in front of me, let alone the end of the driveway. It’s also starting to get dark, which only adds to the nightmare backdrop.
I’m trapped out here in the middle of freaking nowhere. This place is surrounded by open fields on one side and dense forest on the other. So yeah, I’m totally stranded with no hope of rescue. Who comes to plow the massive driveway in situations like this?
That stranger locked inside the house isn’t going to help me. Just my luck. This is what I get for trying to be caring and compassionate. I can’t forget curious. It’s the last one that always gets me into these messes. My friends would be laughing their butts off at my internal shaming right now.
A loud bang on the trunk of my car causes a high-pitched scream to rush out of my throat. Why is all this scary stuff happening to me at once? I bump my head on the window and nearly have a heart attack as I try to assess the threat.
What the heck?
I whip around in my seat and see the reason for my panic. Xander, in all his hulking glory, is glowering at me from behind my vehicle. He’s looking at me like I’m responsible for some serious crime by just sitting here. I almost wiggle my fingers at him in a patronizing wave.
Am I supposed to get out? What does he expect me to do? He must have noticed me spinning out. I’m clearly not going anywhere, anytime soon. He can’t possibly expect me to walk home.
Even though I’m a bit distracted by my mental musing, I can still make out the yell from outside.
“Get in the house!” Xander growls out, accompanied by another solid pound to my trunk.
He’s going to let me into his place? I didn’t expect that at all. Maybe this will give us an opportunity to actually talk. Opening my door takes serious effort but I manage when I throw my whole body into the action. Of course this also causes me to tumble out into the snow. Can I get a freaking break?
I lay there for a moment, basking in my embarrassment, waiting to see if Xander will offer me a hand. I don’t hear any movement so I tip my head back to make sure. Just as I figured. The butthead is still standing in the exact same spot with the scowl still firmly on his lips.
I make sure to groan extra loud while awkwardly rolling over, followed by ungracefully standing up. I almost want to take a bow because this whole situation is so ridiculous. Once I’m back on my two feet, I make a big production of brushing all the white fluff off my clothes. Still no reaction from the big guy. I’m seriously beginning to wonder if there is something wrong with his brain function.
“Get in the house. I’ll stay in the shack,” Xander grumbles out and jerks his chin in the direction I’m assuming he plans to go. Considering the condition of his home, I’m beyond concerned at what shape the other building is in for him to refer to it as a shack. We might not be friends anymore but I still care about the man.
“Can’t we stay in there together?” I question. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m scared to be in his place alone on top of the worry he’s holing up someplace even more rundown. His response is immediate.
“No.” That’s it. Just no. It would be a waste of breath arguing. I’ve quickly figured that out in the short time we’ve . . . talked, if you could call it that.
Xander turns and heads toward the forest side of his property. I quickly lose sight of him since the flurries are casting a white hue and wreaking havoc on my vision. Just in case he’s still within hearing range, I decide to give him some gratitude. “Great! Thank you so very much, Xander. You’ve been really helpful!” I scream out into the wind.
What a jerk.
I begin the journey back to the porch I stood on not even an hour ago. My previous tracks aren’t covered completely so I’m able to use them to make the trek easier. I bypass the stairs once again then carefully use the railing to kick the snow off my boots. Getting a self-guided tour of Xander’s home should be mighty interesting.
I just hope he didn’t lock the door.