Page 38 of Uprising

One foot in front of the other, I head towards the open door showing me the bathroom. Even though the door is only a few steps away, it feels like a mile. Each movement becomes a battle; my muscles scream, my breath coming in shallow gasps. By the time I reach the doorframe, my entire body shakes; I’m drenched in sweat and ready to climb back into bed.

I flick the light on, ignoring the mirror and heading straight to the toilet. Pulling my boxer briefs down, I barely got myself situated before relieving my bladder. I don’t know how long I stand there, blissfully fighting through the pain. Once I’m done, I flush and make my way over to the sink. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a stranger looking back. Dark circles lay under my eyes as if I hadn’t slept. My already pale skin was paler if that was even possible. The wife beater that I’m wearing hangs loosely around my body. Tears strung around the edge of my vision. What happened to me? Letting out a frustrated, shaky breath, I turn the water on and roughly wash my one hand.

Knowing I needed to figure out what the hell happened, I shuffled my way out of the bathroom and into the small bedroom. I make my way towards the other door across the room. Each step feels like a knife stabbing me through my body. I should get back into bed, but having no idea where I am, my mind wants to play a million different scenarios.

My pulse races as I twist the handle and pull the door open. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t luxury.

The moment I step further into the room, warmth wraps around me in a thick embrace. My gaze lifts, sweeping over the breathtaking space before me. The ceiling stretched high above, dark wood that seemed to glow under the bright sunlight. Stone walls frame the open-concept room, the rough texture giving an earthy elegance. But that’s not what stole my breath away; it was the glass—an entire wall of it. The floor-to-ceiling window revealed the mountains beyond. Branches sway against the morning sun, leaving shadows across the living room.

A massive sectional sofa sits in the center of the room, beckoning me to just lie down. The deep cushions are inviting enough that I almost ignore what I was looking for. A low black coffee table sits in front of the sofa; books and a ceramic bowl sit on top.

For a long moment I stand there taking it all in. It’s not enough. I hear a faint sound of someone grunt, the sound of wood splitting catching my attention.

Upon walking further into the living room, I look for a back door. The moment I find it, I see someone outside, their back facing me. Against my better judgment, I push the door open, fighting for my life as I step out. I quietly shut the door.

If I thought the living room was the best part, I was lying. The porch stretches wide; smooth, weathered wood lies beneath my bare feet. A row of cushioned loungers sits along the railing, positioned perfectly for gazing out at the mountains. Beyond the porch, trees align perfectly so that you still get the view of the mountains. The crisp air feels like the first breath of fresh air I’ve gotten to breathe in forever. The scent of pine and damp earth hit my nose.

I step closer to the railing, resting my good hand on the cool wood and letting out a slow breath. For a moment, nothing but the whispering of the wind and birds chirping has me feeling completely and utterly free.

Until the sound of wood chopping hits me. Scanning over the forest floor, I find the shirtless man raising the axe above his head before swinging it down, slicing the piece of wood directly in the middle. His muscles flex with the pure strength he put behind the swing.

My cock twitches in my pants. Even the scars that cover the majority of his back, I find myself wanting to run my tongue over each and every single one of them.

Somehow this mystery man reminds me?—

Reed.

The sudden realization that I have no idea where Reed is hits me like a freight train. But I don’t have to worry for long. The man below me turns around as if sensing someone watching him.

Reed’s gaze falls onto me. My core clenched, desperately wanting to run and jump into his arms. But something must have happened, because instead of a smile or at least a nod, Reed looks pissed off.

I frown, confusion wrapping itself around my head. Why is he so upset?

I slid my hand over the railing, unable to stare at him anymore. From the corner of my eye, I see him drop the axe and start making his way towards the stairs.

My breath gets caught in my throat when he reaches the top, only a few feet from me. Scars litter his entire torso, ones that match the scar on his lip. His skin isn’t pale like I would expect. It almost has a greenish tinge to it.

I stand there, chest pounding, as he reaches towards his shirt hanging on the railing. He pulls it over his head, his eyes flicking over my face and then away. It’s like he doesn’t even care that I’m here.

It’s like I’m back to being ignored as if nothing changed.

The moment he opens his mouth, his voice is distant, careless. “You need to get back to bed and rest.”

There was no emotion, no concern for how I was feeling. It was nothing but the bare minimum.

A dismissal.

Something inside me cracked. A small, silent fracture against my chest. I swallow against the lump forming in my throat, tears forming around the edges of my eyes. I refuse to let him see me break.

The weight in my chest presses harder, threatening to pull me down. So I give him a curt nod and turn around.

Pain nearly swallows me whole. I’m not sure which one was worse, Reed acting like I was a nuisance or the sharp, searing pain that's shooting down from my left shoulder across my body. Every breath was a war as I moved back inside the cabin.

I no longer felt the warmth I once did in here. Coldness. That’s all I felt.

Emptiness.

I was worthless.

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