Hiding out in an abandoned shack from their abusive pasts, Allison and Ethan Bryson entertain themselves by imaging all sorts of curious characters near the frozen lake outside their hut.
But after Allison witnesses a man murder a young woman and di...
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By the time we got Judith and Owen back into the shack, the sun was beginning to swoop below the horizon. Owen sat on the floor against the foot of the bed. The blow to his head has knocked him out for quite some time. His back was damp and he shivered from being dragged through snow for a distance.
Ethan had used thick strips of fabric torn from a sheet to fasten Owen's arms behind his back and to a leg of the bed. His ankles were tightly wrapped together with some of the ribbons of the cloth too. No matter how hard he tried, the only thing he was able to do was squirm.
Thank goodness Ethan had secured him before he fully awoke.
"You're gonna wish you killed me when I was out." Owen glared at me as he growled his threat. "Big mistake."
I gulped and sat near the head of the bed to tend to Judith. She still hadn't awakened, and I feared she never would. If she did, she probably wouldn't be the same, judging by the swollen bruises on her head and face that resembled the knuckles on Owen's dominate fist.
Ethan paced the short distance of the room, moving in a straight line from one side to the other as the lantern lit up the space and cast a long-legged version of him in the shadow on the wall. "Where's the hatchet, Owen?"
"You want the answer?" A copious trail of dried blood glistened on the side of his face. He shook his head. "You're gonna have to beat it out of me."
Ethan didn't look up but continued to anxiously pace. "You're sick. You wanna force me to get it out of you? To beat you? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Anything to have your hands on me again, lover boy." Owen winked an eye and puckered his lips. "Put your hands on me while I'm conscious next time. It's better that way."
"Sickening." Ethan sneered. "You would say that, especially after what you did to Judith and Mandy while they were conscious."
"Judith and Mandy had it coming. They were loads of trouble. Like most girls." Owen turned his head and peered over his shoulder at me.
I shuddered and pressed a wet cloth to Judith's injures while she slept.
Owen nodded toward the bookcase where the Holy Bible visibly lay on the top shelf in the spot where the hatchet had been. "I saw the pictures you drew in there." He smiled. "Ethan, you're so damned talented. That's one reason I like you so much."
Ethan stopped pacing and glared. "What are you talking about?"
"You drew me like ... like a knight. I swear, your drawings of me are just . . . remarkable." Owen locked eyes with Ethan and allowed a smile to form on his lips. I searched my mind for the memory of me flipping through the Bible the day Ethan and Owen left me alone to go to the shop the first time. I could clearly envision the pictures he drew in black ink. "Even so..." Owen went on, glancing over his shoulder at me. "He drew you so much better."
