See How She Runs (The Chronicles of Izzy #1)(11)

“We are here,” Kennan announced the obvious. As if there were another cabin out here in the middle of God knows where.

“How does your head feel? Is there a pull anymore?" he asked with concern lacing his voice.

How could he possibly know that what it felt like back at the gas station? I tried to hide my surprise as best I could and replied shortly, “I am fine.”

“Alright then, well, I guess you should know this is going to be home for a few weeks. You might as well get used to it, because there is no way you will ever find your way out of here by yourself. Like I said before, I will find you. Always," he said cryptically.

“Okay then, can we maybe go inside, or are we just going to park it out here like a couple of lawn gnomes? I think that there are parts of me that aren’t drenched and freezing yet," I said snippily. I felt I had a right to be a little grouchy considering what the last few days had been like.

“In ya go then. Why don’t you take the bedroom and I can sleep out here on the couch. If you want to take a bath or anything, the bathroom is down the hall."

“That would be nice.”

I headed to the bedroom and was relieved to find an actual bed with an actual mattress. Not for the first time, I was curious as to how everything had gotten up here in the first place. I took the boots off of my feet and peeled off my damp socks. I noticed my feet were now covered with lovely blisters. I was used to walking, but not mountainous hikes. I took the jacket off and started to take my shirt off when I realized, I did not pack a stitch of clothes. I headed back into the living room to find Kennan building a fire in the large stone fireplace that took up one end of the cabin.

Kennan did not even look back at me. It was unnerving, this new development of his. It was as if he knew exactly where I was at all times, without ever having to look for me. He just started talking as if it was the most normal thing to talk to someone that was not there five seconds ago.

“Your clothes are in the bag I just carried up. I told you to pack a bag. Unfortunately you went all hysterical back at the house, so I had to pack one for you. Everything you need should be in there. If you didn’t have it, I packed it for you out of what I already had prepared. All of your toiletries and stuff are in that bag as well. If you want to go get cleaned up, I will make us some dinner."

Without responding, I went to the now much smaller bag he had carried up and took it to the room. I unloaded the bag slightly mortified that he had been fondling my undergarments only to find that almost none of the clothing inside the bag was mine. The only thing I recognized was my green sweater and my underwear. The rest of the clothes were all in my size, but they were meant for hiking and camping. Granted, most of my clothes back home were for work, and we were in the middle of the woods, but jeez I would have liked something that is mine at least.

I noticed in the bottom of the bag was the only picture I had left of my parents. It had been taken out of its frame, but it was there none the less. I didn’t understand what was going on and I just couldn’t take the not asking thing any longer. I stormed out in the living room and started talking at him before he could do the creepy talk to you without looking at you to know you are there thing.

“What in the hell is all of that in there? Those aren’t my clothes. You kidnap me, drug me, haul me to God knows where in the middle of the woods to probably murder me. The least you could do is pack my own damned clothes. How do you even know my sizes? Invasive much? Or for that matter, why the hell do you have a stockpile of clothes for me lying about? I have been trying really hard to keep it together and not go totally postal on you. I have been trying to figure out why three days ago my life was totally normal but now I am in some parallel dimension where my best friend speaks in a totally different accent and kidnaps me. But I can’t anymore. And cheese on a cracker, I am going to lose my job and then Grams house if I don’t call Mike.”

I fell onto the sofa totally losing steam from my rambling rant.

“First, I need to clarify that it has been about a week now since your life was normal. It took us three days to drive here. You don’t remember a lot of that probably. For that I am truly sorry. The clothes were a precaution, as is this cabin and the drugs I used on you on the way here. Mike already knows you are gone. He knows far more than even you do about who you really are. Your Grams was not your real grandma either, and I am not really an American at all." He said all of this as if it was supposed to make some sort of sense.

I just stared at him hoping to get more. He stared right back for a moment with that same tumultuous look in his eyes that I had been noticing lately. After a moment, he went back to poking the fire. Clearly, I wouldn’t be getting any more information from him right now. Mister "I-keep-my-mouth-shut-about-all-of-the-important-crap-but-for-the-past-two-years-I-have-had-time-to-play-pranks-on-you-and-stockpile-emergency-kidnap-you-supplies."

I headed back to the room and started to just change into some other clothes, when I realized I smelled kind of bad. I guessed if I had not showered in that many days I would be kind of rank.

I took my bag down the hall to the bathroom, avoiding him as much as possible in the cabin. I started the water and was surprised to find that there was hot water. How in the world? There must be one heck of a generator up here. I climbed in under the hot water and let it take me away for a few minutes. I scrubbed myself thoroughly and got out to find two fluffy towels hanging on the rack that weren’t there before I got in the shower. Or maybe I just did not notice them before. I grabbed them and wrapped my hair up in one and dried off with the other. I climbed out of the tub and rifled through the bag looking for some sleep clothes. When I found them, I stormed out into the living room wearing nothing but a towel and dangling a nighty from one finger.