Book IV of the UNC Series
Carter Blake has a bone-deep hatred for the world-and especially for the people in it. All he wants is to keep his head down, focus on school and basketball, and avoid the mess of human connection. After enduring years of...
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I slowly blink my eyes open. A splitting headache pounds behind my eyes, and my cracked lips and throat feel like sandpaper. With a pained groan, I open my eyes to a blurry vision, the scent of cold, damp earth filling my nostrils, and I look around in confusion.
I don't even remember what happened. The last thing I recall is finally having the heart to see Liv at the cemetery. Then, a sharp pang—
I jerk upwards, groaning and grunting at the pain that strikes my body. My arms ache; a pins-and-needles sensation prickles as I realize they're awkwardly twisted behind my torso, making my whole body feel stiff. But when I try to move them, I find I can't. There's something cutting into the skin around my wrists. Numbly, I move my fingers to attempt to feel around it, and I find it is rope tied securely around my wrists. What the fuck?
There's a kink in my hip, and as I sit back against the wall behind me, pain shoots down into my leg, causing my muscles to spasm. My ass is numb against the concrete floor. A painful moan escapes my lips as I hang my head back and finally open my eyes.
I survey the room I'm in. Light pours in through the tiny rectangular window at the top of the wall on my right, letting me know I'm somewhere below ground. From the cold, damp air that surrounds me, I'm assuming I'm in a basement, especially as I'm met with the bare bones of wooden beams fitted to the walls.
I glance at the washer and dryer in the corner opposite of me, to the wooden table propped under the single window and the wooden wall I rest against on my left as my shoulder threatens to fall between the plank's gaps.
There's something oddly familiar about this place.
I continue to curb the pounding headache as I glance around the space, and that's when I note the box under the stairs before me. My heart skips as my eyes widen when I spot a photo of Mom peeking out from the corner.
It's a picture I know well. It was what I had hanging in my childhood bedroom before I ran. When I went to look for it, the picture vanished like a ghost, likely lost in the chaos of my hurried departure. I searched everywhere but couldn't find it.
It's of me and Mom when she took me to the spring carnival. Liv likes to think that she was the first one to take me to the local carnival, but the truth is, I just hadn't gone since my mom died. Mom had scrimped and saved every penny, working tirelessly for months to afford that day off just to take me. And she didn't spare any expense. She bought as many tickets as she could, took me on all the rides that I could ride at the age of five, and we played all the games we could.
We took one photo to remember the day, and I cried when that photo went missing. But there is it, and suddenly, I know exactly where I am.
But how?
The hardwood floor creaks overhead as I jerk my head up to the ceiling. Dust and wood shavings fall from the ceiling as someone walks across the space, opening the basement door. The stairs groan under the weight of the person climbing down. I first see their legs, and slowly, their torso comes into view before I see the tanned skin and long hair pulled back into a man bun.
