The Nook

Chapter 29

Coral

My eyes sting and throb from all the crying I've been doing.

I trusted him. I fell for his charm. He played me like a fool.

I curl up tighter on this stiff, uncomfortable bed, trying to make myself as small as possible. The springs dig into my side, a painful reminder of the reality of this place, yet it's the only grounding thing left. I'm counting the seconds, the minutes. Each one stretches longer than the last. The only sound is my breathing and the pounding of my heart echoing in my chest.

My lungs feel raw, every shallow breath scraping painfully inside me. The air is stale, dry—thick with dust and neglect. There's a faint metallic taste lingering on my tongue, a reminder of how easily things can go wrong here. Too easily. It's a taste that haunts me, clinging to every thought, every second that passes.

Mom and Reese are probably losing their minds. The twins are too young to understand, but are probably just as panicked. Maybe even Dad. I don't see him much. He's like a ghost, working all night and sleeping all morning. Not that any of that is his fault. With mom choosing to stay home, he is our main source of income besides Reese's job. My heart aches. A tear escapes the corner of my eye, and I quickly wipe it away. I hate this bed, this room, this helplessness. The tears keep coming though, silently flowing down my cheeks and collecting on the scratchy surface beneath me. I don't even bother to stop them anymore.

My stomach growls in hunger. He'll be here soon. It's been like clockwork. I don't know his name, but I've become reliant on the dude, even though I hate him with every fibre of my body.

The faintest scrapes of boots on the stone floor outside before the door groans as it opens, and I straighten, bracing myself to sit up. I can't show him how weak I am, how the world spins around me the moment I move. I force myself upright, blinking away the dizziness, as He steps into the room.

He walks in slowly, stiffly. The surroundings of the room are engulfed in shadows that stream from beneath his feet. shadows crawling up his arms in pure darkness. I don't understand why he does this every time. Surround us with his shadows as he walks in. One of the shadows presents a small dinner roll and a glass of water.

He's tall, with a sharp, angular and cold face, his pale skin and copper eyes contrasting with the darkness that follows him. His hair matches it.

Just by walking into any room, I know his presence demands attention. I can't look away from him as the shadows retract, falling from his arms and hands, slipping back to beneath his feet. Every shadow returning to where it belongs. I wanted to look away from his face, but I couldn't. My body stiffened, a primal part of me reacting to the power he exuded, and my mind screamed a warning, even as my curiosity prickled at the edges of my fear.

My stomach growls and I force my attention on the bread in my hands. It's still warm. Its heat wrapped around me like a blanket. I want to devour it but see how I'm not sure how long until I'll get another one; I sip my water and rip off tiny pieces. It's not enough to feed my overbearing hunger, but it's at least something.

"Going to cooperate today?" He asks, his voice smooth. Too smooth.

I swallow the piece of bread, the dryness in my throat making it harder than it should be. I look up into his copper eyes, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Don't hold your breath," I say, though my voice comes out weaker than I intended. I hate that.

He smirks, the slightest of a twitch, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You brave, I'll give you that." His eyes narrow, He's assessing me just like he does every time he's sent in here to gather answers out of me which are nothing since I don't know a god damn thing...