Page 38 of Devils Cut

Continuing down the hallway, I peered into the second room. This one was slightly bigger than the first, but still not quite what I was looking for. I needed a space that offered some semblance of safety and control, a place where I could barricade myself if needed.

"Alright, third time's the charm," I said, opening the last door. The room was larger than the others and tucked away at the furthest corner of the house. Its position gave me a sense of security, as it would be harder for anyone to sneak up on me. "This'll do."

"Home sweet fucking home," I announced, tossing my bags onto the floor. Dust puffed up around them, dancing in the sparse light filtering through the grimy window. I'd have to clean that later, along with everything else in this godforsaken place.

I walked out to my car, the hot air nipping at my exposed skin, and grabbed the rolled-up mattress from the trunk. Hauling it back inside, I unrolled it onto the floor of my new bedroom and covered it with the few blankets I'd been using to sleep in my back seat.

"Alright, Tempest, let's see what we're dealing with here." I pulled out an old notebook and pen from my bag, ripping a few pages out. They were stained and crumpled but still usable. Nothing fancy. I went from room to room, scribbling down what each space needed. This wasn't going to be a fuckin' palace, but it had to be liveable.

"Jesus Christ," I grumbled, glancing at the cracked windows and peeling wallpaper. "Gonna need more than just paint and nails to fix this place up."

As I continued through the house, I couldn't help but think about how far I'd come. Not too long ago, I lived in fear and uncertainty. Now, I had a roof over my head, one that couldn’t be taken away from me.

The second room I walked into had walls stained with God-knows-what. "Fuckin' hell," I muttered, scribbling down 'fresh paint' on the paper. I could feel the weight of my past, and the determination to make this place home seeping into every word.

"Damn floorboards," I grumbled as one creaked underfoot, adding 'replace boards' to the list. The next room had a rusted faucet that groaned when I twisted it. "Shit, gonna need a plumber for this mess."

I finished the list and made my way to the backyard. Overgrown weeds and tangled vines had taken over, creating a jungle-like atmosphere.

I slammed the door behind me, my pulse racing from the adrenaline pumping through my veins. That backyard was a fucking mess, but it would be mine to conquer, bit by goddamn bit. I tossed the pen and paper onto the kitchen bench and strode back outside, determined to haul all my shit into the house.

Sweat dripped down my forehead as I kicked the door open, cursing under my breath. This was what independence felt like—difficult, exhausting, but oh-so-fucking-sweet.

Just as I dropped my belongings in the living room, my mobile rang from my back pocket. The screen flashed "Corvus" and I snatched it up, excitement surging through me.

"Hello?" I said, trying to sound casual.

"Princess, you should've woken me up," Corvus teased, his voice low and gravelly. A smile spread across my face, my heart fluttering at the sound of his endearment. He'd been calling me that since we met, and every time it made me feel special.

"Didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep," I replied, wiping the sweat off my brow.

He laughed then said "I have club business, princess. I won't be able to make it over today," Corvus said, his gravelly voice a mix of apology and regret. "But I could swing by when I'm done, or pop over in the morning with breakfast?"

"Morning's good," I replied, my fingers tracing the rough edge of the kitchen counter. The thought of him bringing breakfast made my heart race; he'd taken care of me, even when I was too stubborn to admit I needed help. "I've got some shit to do today anyway."

"Alright, Tempest. Sleep well in your new castle, and I'll see you bright and early." He hung up before I could say anything else, but the smile on my face lingered as I grabbed my keys and headed out to my car.

I had become accustomed to being fed three meals a day while staying with Corvus and had gained a few pounds. I wanted to maintain this weight gain because I felt stronger than I had in years.

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My heart pounded in my chest, rattling my bones as the sound of scratching and shuffling outside my window yanked me from sleep. Shit. Midnight, and someone's trying to climb into my fucking window? Panic clawed at my throat, but I reached for my phone with shaky hands, dialling Corvus's number.

"Hello?" His voice was groggy on the third ring, heavy with sleep.

"Corvus," I choked out, eyes locked on the shadowy figure moving outside my window. "Someone's trying to climb into my fuckin' window!"

"Shit, Tempest! Get up, find a small cupboard or something and hide. I'm coming over now. Stay on the line. I can't hold the phone while I ride, but don't hang up 'til you hear my bike."

"Okay," I whispered, fear gripping me like a vice, sweat beading on my forehead. I tried to steady my breath as I scrambled out of bed, tiptoeing through the dark house in search of a hiding place. Every creak of the floorboards seemed deafening, and my heart felt like it might explode.

My heart raced as I crept out of my room, the darkness seeming to swallow me whole. It was like a nightmare come to life, and I felt like prey, waiting for the predator to strike. The terror clawed at my insides, threatening to rip me apart.

"Find a cupboard," Corvus had said, his voice firm despite the sleep that clung to it. "Stay on the line." So I clutched the phone to my ear, desperate for any connection to him, my lifeline in this hellish moment.

The house loomed before me, full of shadows and secrets, every creak and groan feeling like an omen. I knew I had to move fast, but it was like wading through molasses, my body refusing to cooperate.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, forcing myself forward. And then I spotted it: a small linen cupboard tucked away in the hallway. Barely more than a sliver of space, but it would have to do.

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