Page 36 of Bound By Her

But alone in the pedicured bedroom, Bryson paced. A mindless march with no beginning and no end.

Up until now, they had enjoyed unrestricted access to the kitchen, a cozy sitting area, and three bedrooms—two of which remained untouched. There was a recreational room stocked with workout equipment, board games, and even a PS5.

By all accounts, it had the comforts of a home.

But itwasn’t.

It was a prison.

Even a comfortable prison was still a prison. And in some ways, it was worse—because it deceived you into believing you were free.

And now, the illusion was cracking.

Bryson tried to fight it. He tried to push it down, to keep it locked away with everything else. But exhaustion made it harder. He was unraveling.

He told himself it was because he didn’t know if they were okay. That not knowing was what was clawing at him.

That waspartof the truth.

But not all of it.

The real weight pressing on his chest had roots much deeper, tangled in a past he didn’t want to acknowledge.

As a child, he had spent hours locked away in his dimly lit bedroom. The days blurring into one another, bleeding together into an endless stretch of isolation. In the silence, his imagination had filled the void, painting shadows into monsters—something dark and unrelenting lurking just beyond his door.

His heartbeat had been the only sound, loud enough to drown out everything else.

And he had convinced himself, in the way only a child could, that his father was keeping him safe. That thelock on his door was protection, that he was being shielded from something worse.

As a child, he hadn’t been able to understand that his fatherwasthe monster.

And now, as he sat in this comfortable prison, the walls felt too tall, too close. A heavy fog of unease settling over him, thick and suffocating.

Beyond the door, the darkness stretched on, vast and endless.

Bryson swore he could hear it whispering his name.

His skin prickled, as though unseen eyes were fixed on him, watching. Waiting.

His breath turned shallow, his chest tightening with something he refused to call fear.

Because fear meant he was still that child, locked in a room, listening for footsteps that never came.

And he wasn’t that boy anymore.

He wasn’t.

But the walls still felt like they were closing in.

He was older now, he told himself, and he didn’t need fantasies.

Seth and Kaydon were nearby.

He could handle this.

He was different now, bigger, stronger. So why did he feel so small?

CHAPTER 11

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