The Darkest Embrace

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“Who this?”

Jessie reached for Max’s good hand to pull him closer. “This is Max, my boyfriend.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d called him that, but it was still so new the word tied knots in his gut. “Hi.”

Mrs. Romero tipped her wizened face toward his, her eyes asquint, mouth still sucking greedily on the pipe. “You bleeding?”

“He cut his hand,” Jessie explained, pulling out a package of gauze bandages and first aid supplies from a cheerfully bright yellow plastic bag. “I’m going to fix him up, though. He’ll be okay.”

This set Mrs. Romero cackling so much that she pulled the pipe from her lips to point it at Jessie. “Oh, I betcha. He’ll be perfect.”

Another burst of cackling laughter sent the old woman into a spate of thick, congested coughing that bent her forward so far that Max was sure she was going to tip right out of the rocker. The door behind Jessie opened and a blonde woman wearing jeans and a denim shirt came out to grab Mrs. Romero by the shoulders and keep her upright. It took Max a second or two to figure out what seemed so off about the woman: Just like the guy back on the road, the blonde woman was extremely tall.

She shot them both an apologetic look. “Sorry. Mom, Mom! Mom, you got to calm yourself.”

Jessie backed up a few steps to get out of the way. “Sorry to upset her.”

The blonde woman shrugged, patting Mrs. Romero on the back until the coughing fit eased a little. Mrs. Romero fixed Max with a solid glare and pointed her pipe at him. “Perfect.”

Somehow, the way she said it didn’t make him feel perfect.

“Sorry,” the blonde woman said again. “She’s...old.”

“We need to get going,” Max said. “We’re supposed to be getting to the cabin.”

The blonde stood. “Oh, you’re the renters? Freddy’s been waiting for you so he can show you around, how to use the stove and stuff. You’re late.”

“We ran into a little trouble on the road,” Max said. His hand gave a twinge.

She shielded her hand to look up at the sky. “You’d better get moving, then. It’s getting dark and you don’t want to try to unpack in the dark. Storm’s coming.”

“There aren’t any lights?” Jessie asked with a quick glance his way.

“Gas lights,” the woman said as she rubbed Mrs. Romero’s back and the old woman turned her face to the side and spit on the porch floor. “Gas heat, stove, hot water. But you don’t want to be out too long after dark, the bugs will eat you alive.”

“Better bugs than Mrs. Romero,” Jessie said with a soft giggle when they were back in the truck and she’d torn open the package of bandages to work on his hand.

An innuendo rose to his lips about being eaten by Jessie being better than anything, but he quashed it. What was so easy for him over text or instant message never came out right in person. Instead, he let her take his hand to clean it with the antiseptic wipes she’d bought. It stung, but that wasn’t why he hissed in a breath. It was when Jessie took his hand and gently kissed the wound before pressing a gauze pad against it and wrapping it with a bandage that his heart skipped and thudded. Not to mention the rise in his pants.

Still cupping his hand in hers, she looked up at him from under her lashes. “This could make it hard for you to use your hand.”

“Yeah...” Max croaked, throat suddenly dry.

“Well,” Jessie said with a slowly spreading smile, “it’s a good thing you can still use your mouth.”

Chapter 2

The final trip to the cabin was as scenic and lovely as the first part of the journey, and thankfully much less eventful. Max eased the Suburban down increasingly narrow and isolated roads. Over a ravine, the wooden bridge little more than a series of heavy timbers. Past a few other cabins, some with lights or curious faces in the windows, but most dark. Then, finally, up a long, winding dirt track with the trees so close that they brushed the sides of the SUV, and...

“Wow,” Jessie gasped at the sight of it.

The cabin featured two pretty gables and a covered wraparound porch with carved columns and loads of intricately carved wooden gingerbread trim. Soft yellow light shone from the upper windows and from inside, but a brighter glow shone as they parked in front. At home there might still be light in the sky, but here in the forest, night was already close. The front door opened and a shadowy figure emerged holding a lantern. Jessie was already getting out of the truck, but paused at the sight. Surely the man wasn’t ducking to get out through the door?

“Hi! Freddy Romero.” The man held out his hand toward Max and gave Jessie a nod. “You’re late. Got scared you weren’t coming.”

“Ran into a little trouble on the road,” Max said.

Freddy gave a startlingly loud laugh, his teeth bright and shining in the growing dusk. “Deer.”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“My brother Jason told me,” Freddy said. “Said he came across you. Everything okay?”

Max nodded. “Yep.”

Jessie moved closer to him to look around Freddy. “It’s lovely here.”

“Right, right. Let me show you around, get you settled. Get out of your way before the storm hits,” Freddy said with a grin that was closer to a leer. “Give you your privacy.”

The tour of the cabin took ten minutes, five minutes longer than necessary, as far as Jessie was concerned, because there wasn’t really much to learn. Freddy paused in the doorway with his lantern, pointing out a list of places where they’d find instructions, if they needed them, for the hot water heater, the stove, the hot tub.