Page 120 of Jayson
A hollow space between beams. Cobwebs. Dust. Mouse droppings.
He grabbed me by the hair. Shoved me through it.
I screamed. I screamed so loud I thought my throat would tear open.
But he was louder.
“Shut up or I’ll make you stop breathing altogether.”
Then the wood slid back into place.
And it was black. So black.
My breath echoed inside the walls. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t stretch and it was impossible to sit up.
And the worst part?I didn’t know how long he’d leave me there.An hour. A day.Once, it was two.
The Present
I claw at the walls. My fingernails scrape against cold steel, leaving nothing but aching silence behind.
My chest jerks with every ragged breath. I can’t stop it. I can’t slow it down. The blackness is everywhere. Inside me. Around me.
The hole in the wall. The trapdoor. The sounds of boots outside that never meant safety.
It’s happening again.
And Jayson’s out there, bleeding. Dying.
And I’m here. Useless.
I sob. Ugly, gasping sobs that shake my whole body, my head thudding back against the wall as I curl tighter and tighter. Like maybe I’ll just disappear.
I taste salt. I taste fear. I tastehim.
The ghost of a man who should’ve protected me. Who taught me how to shrink. How to disappear. How to fear the dark more than the monsters inside it.
Then—the latch scrapes.
Light spills through the trapdoor, blinding me. I flinch hard, pressing back into the wall like it will swallow me whole.
There’s a silhouette. A man with broad shoulders and disheveled hair, wearing a blood-soaked shirt. The man whodidprotect me.
“Keira.”
His voice. God, his voice.
I blink through tears. Choke on a sob. “J-Jayson?”
His hand reaches for me, and I’m already climbing out, hands shaking so bad I nearly fall. I crawl into the open, gasping like I’ve been underwater for days. My knees hit the floor. My arms wrap around his waist, tight, frantic, as I bury my face against him.
He groans—he’s hurt—but he doesn’t let go of me.
His arms come around me. One hand cradles the back of my head. The other clutches me close, bloodied fingers splayed over my spine like he’s trying to shield me from the world.
“It’s over,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
I sob harder. Scream it into his chest. My whole body shakes against him.
