Page 133 of Before Dawn

Iwoke up with a start, the pillow beneath me slightly damp from where my cheek had pressed into it. Disoriented, I blinked at the faint glow of the bedside lamp. My bed? The last thing I remembered was collapsing on the couch, utterly drained.

Mikkel must’ve carried me here.

I groaned and buried my face into the pillow.Three hours.That was all the time I had left before my shift, and the exhaustion still clung to me. I’d never imagined working in a bookstore could be this draining. The constant movement, the barrage of questions from customers, and the endless shelving was physically and mentally taxing. But at least it didn’t give me much time to sit and think.

Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled into the bathroom. The hot shower was supposed to wash away the tension, but the gnawing unease I’d carried all day remained.

After wrapping myself in my robe, I stepped into the hallway. That’s when I heard a loud, sharp noise, like something being slammed.

I froze.

The sound came again, muffled but unmistakable, followed by Mikkel’s voice. But this voice wasn’t the calm, warm tone I knew. It was sharp, cold, and filled with a fury that made my stomach twist.

I inched closer, my feet almost hesitant as I approached the living room.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mikkel’s tone cut like a blade, sharp and venomous. “I gave you a fucking deadline. I handed you everything you needed on a silver platter. What part of this did you not understand?”

His voice boomed through the room, the kind of anger that didn’t just fill the space—it smothered it.

“Esto es jodidamente inaceptable!”62 he roared, slamming his palm on the countertop, the sound reverberated like a warning shot. “Don’t come to me with bullshit excuses when your incompetence is the reason we’re in this mess.”

My heart pounded as the tension in the air thickened, suffocating me where I stood.

“No!” he barked, the word like a gunshot. “Fix it. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, but this better be resolved by sundown. If it’s not, someone’s losing more than just their job. Do you understand me?”

His face was hard, his eyes blazing with fury as he paced the room, his phone pressed to his ear. His shoulders were tense, and his free hand moved wildly, as if he couldn’t contain the rage that poured out of him. This wasn’t just frustration; it was a warning of the man he could become when things spiraled out of control.

I couldn’t breathe.

My chesttightened as his voice hit me like a tidal wave. I gripped the edge of the wall, my knees shaking.

And then, just like that, I was back there.

Joshua.

“Are you stupid, Abigail? How many times do I have to tell you?” His voice echoed in my mind, searing and cruel. I remembered standing in the kitchen, feeling small as he towered over me, his rage consuming every inch of the space. Plates shattered against the floor, one after the other, his fury growing with every crash. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

The sound of his anger blended with Mikkel’s voice, and for a second, I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

No. No. This isn’t Joshua. This isn’t the same.

I forced myself to blink, to pull myself back to the present. But the fear lingered, curling around my ribs like a vise.

Mikkel’s voice was still sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. “I don’t give a fuck about anyone’s excuses. Get it fixed.” He slammed his hand down on the counter, the sound making me jump.

I stepped forward without realizing it, the soft pad of my feet on the floor catching his attention. His head snapped up, and for a second, his face was unrecognizable—his jaw clenched, his eyes stormy, and his entire body radiating fury.

But then he saw me.

His expression softened slightly, but the anger didn’t entirely leave his features. He exhaled harshly, running a hand over his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice lower now but still rough. He looked at me again, his eyes searching mine. “Baby.”

The word was soft, but it didn’t ease the tension in my chest. I couldn’t move, couldn’t respond, as his earlier anger still lingered in the air like smoke after a fire.

Mikkel stepped closer, his hands raised slightly as if to calm me, but it only made my chest tighten further.

“Amor,”63 he started, his voice softer now, the edge of anger gone.

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