HAVEN ✓

Eighteen

What started as dusting off a spot for my bedroll turns into a deep-cleanse of the little house. After finding a sponge and broom in a small closet, I decide I have nothing better to do. In a way, it gives me a semblance of control over being stuck in such an unfamiliar place. The table and counters now stand shining, where previously there had been a thick layer of dust. The little basin resembling a sink is now glistening, freshly scrubbed. The floors are no longer grimy after months of dirt resting undisturbed and I lose track of time that has passed since Luke left.

Whack!

I swear my soul is scared out of my body when the door slams open with ample force. Dusk arrives just as Luke makes his entrance. It's a good thing the walls are made of stone. Any other material, and there would be a fist-sized hole where the door knob is.

"Check the windows," Luke barks as he rushes to secure the door and locks it. He drags one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen and wedges it under the knob for good measure.

I stare at him, my brain slowly stitching his words together with his actions. "Wait, what? Why?"

Luke turns his eyes on me, and there's a fierce, impatient glimmer reflecting back into mine. "The windows. Make sure they're locked, and the bars are intact." His long legs carry him across the room to the table. Slinging his quiver over and off his shoulder, he adjusts his grip on the bow's riser before placing it down gently, muscles in his forearm rippling. I swallow. Something about the scene before me is wrong, his tone calm, but his movements mechanically swift.

"Are you deaf?" he snaps, wiping sweat off his tanned brow. "I did not spend three hours securing the perimeter for you to just let a Skinwalker crawl in through the window."

My neurons finally get the message, and I gasp, just the mention of Skinwalkers enough to raise goosebumps on my arms. I need to test the windows. Now.

I stumble over my own feet in my haste to the nearest window. It's barely visible outside, the darkness quickly covering the dense forest. Still, I can make out the trees and their leaves, bushes and undergrowth undisturbed. My heart pounds, searching for anyone that might be out there.

Calm down. It's just a precaution.

I check and double-check the locks on all four windows in the building. I even pull on the bars with all my weight to ensure their sturdiness. Only when I finish with the last pane of glass does my heartbeat slow.

Luke is leaning against the kitchen table, his arms assuming their usual crossed position. He nods at me, non-verbal approval that makes me feel like I did something good. Something important. I smile inwardly, more tension easing off of me by the minute.

"I'm sorry," Luke breathes softly. "I know this can't be easy for you. I didn't mean to shout. I'm just..." He combs a hand through his hair, leaving dirty blond clumps to stick up in every direction. "I'm just stressed out and I know it's not your fault. I apologize for taking it out on you."

I'm not really sure what spurred him to open up to me, but I'm not upset at this development.

"Thank you," I stutter. "For apologizing. I understand that this isn't a vacation for you, and you're not doing this of your own choice, but I'm thankful nonetheless." He bobs his head in acceptance, eyes roaming the cleaned floor. The only indicator of him noticing the shining floorboards are his sculpted eyebrows creeping toward his scalp.

Nervous, I sit at the table, taking the one remaining chair. Luke doesn't seem to mind, clearly content with lounging on the side adjacent to me. He pulls his dinner ration out of his satchel and begins to eat. Although I ate half of a loaf of bread and a few nuts while he was gone, my stomach is not satisfied.