Teach Me (18+)

Chapter Forty Two

Gianna's Point Of View

My eyelids throbbed with each pulse of my heartbeat, the pain sharp and insistent. A groan slipped from my lips as the worst headache I'd ever known bloomed behind my eyes, swelling with every breath.

Then came the ache—everywhere. My chest burned as if it had been set alight, each inhale shallow and jagged. I tried to pull my arms inward, instinctively curling into myself—but they were caught, yanked backward by something rough and unyielding.

I gave up on my eyes. They felt like stone, too heavy to lift. Instead, I focused on the cold, frigid metal or concrete pressing into my back, seeping into my bones.

Panic clawed its way up my throat, and with a burst of adrenaline, my eyes flew open.

Blinding light filtered through grime-covered windows. I was in a warehouse—massive, empty, and reeking of mold and damp decay. The air was thick, wet, like breathing through a soaked rag.

Tall white pillars stood like silent sentinels around me, their bases coated in peeling paint and angry graffiti. Cracked wooden pallets littered the floor along with papers that looked like they hadn't been touched in years. Everything was smeared in a hazy blur—but unmistakably abandoned. And I was alone.

My wrists ached, raw and pinched by the zip ties biting into my skin. I tried to shift, to pull myself upright, but the pain in my ribs screamed back at me. Whoever brought me here hadn't just wanted me restrained—they'd wanted a message carved into my bones.

I blinked, slowly, forcing my vision to sharpen. A single bulb flickered above, suspended from the ceiling like a noose. Buzzing softly and taunting me.

A metallic taste coated my mouth—blood, maybe. Or fear. I breathed through it. I had to stay lucid.

Footsteps. Distant. Then closer.

My heart launched into my throat.

The echo bounced off the pillars before the figure emerged from the shadowy edges of the warehouse.

Not Eden. Not Artemis.

But her.

She didn't speak. Just knelt beside me, dropping a brown bag in front of me. She studied my face like I was a problem she'd already solved.

"You're awake," she finally said, calm and detached.

"Avanna..." My voice cracked, barely a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"

Pain lanced through my chest.

She didn't answer. Just stood and walked away, her boots dragging just before vanishing into the shadows.

"Eat up," she called over her shoulder. "I made your last meal special."

The echo of her footsteps faded, swallowed by the vast emptiness.

I stared at the brown bag. It sat there like a dare. My stomach twisted—not in hunger, but in dread. The scent of something greasy and warm drifted up, but I couldn't bring myself to touch it.

Especially since I couldn't put it past Avanna to poison the food.

I shifted again, biting back a whimper as the pain spiked. Something cracked in my chest—a rib, maybe two.

The pain in my head intensified, my eyes screwed shut, and I tried to grab my head from the pain, but was restricted yet again.

A sharp click echoed through the warehouse—metal on metal. A door? A lock?

Then voices.

Muffled. Arguing.

I strained to listen.