Page 16

Troy

T hree days had passed since that night with Elena, and I still couldn’t get it out of my head.

I had replayed every second of our whispered conversation more times than I cared to admit. I remembered the way her voice had softened when she told me her favorite color, the way she hesitated before confessing her dream of dancing, the way she had cradled my cheek when I asked for forgiveness, the way she had whispered yes and shattered something inside me.

It was distracting. She was distracting. And too damn sweet to be real. I’d never met another woman like her, and god knew I’d gone through enough of them.

It didn’t help that we were trapped in this frozen hell together, pressed close every night to keep from freezing. The smell of her hair, the way she trembled when the cold got too unbearable, the soft sound of her breathing—everything about her was getting to me.

I needed air.

I shoved my arms into my jacket and stepped out of the plane, the cold biting at my skin instantly. The wind had picked up, sharp and cutting, carrying the telltale signs of snow with the heavy clouds and rapidly graying skies .

A storm was coming.

I exhaled heavily, dragging my hands through my hair before forcing myself to do something—anything to keep my mind from spiraling.

Gathering wood had become my excuse to get outside, away from the too much that had started to weigh on me. I already had a decent-sized pile against the plane, but I kept going, breaking down old branches and pulling at the wreckage for anything burnable.

I didn’t know why I was bothering.

It wasn’t like it was going to save us.

Maybe it was just something to do, something other than sit inside that cramped metal coffin and stare at her, pretending I wasn’t starting to want something I shouldn’t.

Because Elena was off the table.

And not just because of Adrian.

I thought about Amanda.

The fiancée I hadn’t thought much about since the crash. The one I had been more than content with, the one who fit so seamlessly into my life at school. She was pretty, easy, a status symbol that made sense.

So why the hell did I feel like I was betraying her now?

It wasn’t like I had done anything.

But I wanted to.

And that made me the worst kind of asshole.

I shook my head, gritting my teeth against the frustration curling in my gut. It was just the situation. That’s all it was. I hadn’t been laid in nearly two weeks, and I was stuck in the middle of nowhere, my body pressed against someone warm, beautiful, and alluring every night.

It was physical. Biological. Human. That’s all.

And yet, the thought made my stomach churn with self-loathing.

Elena wasn’t just some girl.

And the feelings clawing at me weren’t just about wanting her body.

I needed to get my shit together.

I continued to gather what wood I could find, even snapping low-hanging limbs off. I looked to the sky once more as the wind whipped around me when I went to pick up a fallen branch.

As I stood, a cold dread settled in my bones, my mind racing through the implications. We were already struggling to stay warm. Our heating packs were nearly gone. If we didn’t figure something out, we wouldn’t survive this.

I turned and hurried back toward the plane, my boots crunching against the ice and snow.

Inside, the atmosphere was quiet, thick with the weight of hopelessness.

Adrian and Elena were under the blankets, sitting apart but silent. They both had books in their hands, their way of escaping this nightmare for a little while.

Adrian barely glanced up as I entered, but Elena’s gaze flicked to mine, worried.

“What is it?” she asked.

I pulled my jacket off and threw it aside. “A storm’s coming.”

Adrian’s expression darkened, and he set his book down, rubbing a hand over his face. “Perfect.”

“We need a plan,” I said, my voice sharp, my frustration bleeding through. “After tonight, we’re out of heating packs. We need another way to stay warm.”

Elena stayed quiet, her fingers tightening around the blanket.

Adrian exhaled roughly. “We don’t exactly have options, Troy.”

I shot him a look. “You’re the engineering major. Figure it out.”

Adrian scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m a second year. I haven’t exactly learned how to MacGyver a heating system out of plane wreckage.”

I wasn’t letting this go. Adrian was too damn brilliant to roll over like this.

He glared at me, but I held his gaze, daring him to fight me on this.

Finally, he sighed. “Maybe we can get a hole through the roof and build a small fire inside. The hole will allow the smoke to go out. It’s worth a shot.”

My spine straightened. “How?”

Adrian hesitated. “The metal sink in the bathroom. It’s small. If we can pull it out and make a contained fire in it, we might be able to keep some warmth inside without suffocating.”

I nodded. “I’m all for it. ”

Adrian gave me a look that said this might not work, but we didn’t have many options left.

We got to work.

In the cockpit, we found a small toolbox. It was Dean’s. He’d always been obsessed with wilderness survival and fixing things. I wasn’t surprised he’d brought tools on the plane. I was grateful they hadn’t been destroyed in the crash.

There was enough to do what we needed: a saw, a hammer, a few wrenches, and some other miscellaneous tools.

Adrian and I spent the next hour pulling the tiny metal sink from the bathroom, prying it loose from the bolts. My muscles screamed from exhaustion, but I pushed through it.

Elena watched from her spot, silent but alert.

She still looked pale. Too pale.

And her ankle…

I didn’t want to think about what was happening beneath the swollen bruising.

But I was thinking about it.

Constantly.

When we finally pried the sink loose, I sat back on my heels, wiping sweat from my brow.

“This is gonna work,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Adrian let out a humorless laugh. “It has to. We’re out of fucking options.”

I didn’t say what we were both thinking—if it doesn’t, we’re dead.

We started working on the hole in the ceiling, hacking at the metal with the saw, creating an opening wide enough to let smoke escape without allowing too much cold in.

By the time we were done, I was exhausted.

But I couldn’t stop.

Because beneath the relief of having one problem handled, something else was clawing at the back of my mind.

Food. We were nearly out.

I thought about the rabbit I had seen earlier. It had been quick, darting through the snow, barely a blur before it was gone. I didn’t know how I’d catch it. But I had to .

Because there was another thought—one I didn’t want to acknowledge, one that made my stomach turn so hard I thought I might be sick.

Dean.

He was still buried out there in the snow, frozen solid.

I had never even entertained the thought of eating a person before, but then again, why the fuck would I?

But now?

Now, I wasn’t so sure.

I hated myself, but the idea was festering in my mind like a spreading disease I couldn’t shake.

I clenched my fists, forcing the thought down as I looked at the tiny fire flickering in our makeshift pit.

Survival.

That’s all this was.

I turned to Elena, watching how the firelight flickered across her face.

I would get her through this.

Even if it killed me.