20 Three Months
Iused to think nothing could hurt me more than what Daniel did to me.
Turns out I was wrong. Pain fades. But betrayal just keeps echoing. Over and over like it’s on a loop in my mind.
The light hums above me, too bright and too white. I don’t remember when it came back on. My body feels like it’s been scraped raw from the inside out. Every breath stings, every muscle aches.
I’m too weak to do anything. I’ve lost so much weight I can see my ribs.
My skin is covered in cuts and bruises. My hair is dry and falling out in clumps.
Some parts matted. I’m always cold, and moving too fast makes me feel like I’m on a tilt-a-whirl.
My appetite is almost nonexistent, the hunger being replaced by nausea and cramps.
They give me small amounts of food, but even that hurts.
My lips are cracked, my tongue is raw. They only give me a bottle of water to last me three to four days and it’s impossible to not guzzle it all down.
I’m constantly blacking out, and when I fall asleep, they blast music or alarms into the room to jolt me awake.
Even if they don’t, it’s fragmented sleep, plagued by pain.
I’m not sure I’ll sleep peacefully ever again.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here but it’s definitely been a few months. Everything blends together and with no windows in the room, I have no sense of time.
Butch and Delaine left me on the floor this time. Not the chair. A mercy, maybe. The door clicks open.
No, no, no, they can’t already be back.
My mind begins to race. Boots. A slow, unhurried stride. Not Butch and Delaine. Not Gideon.
I’d know his rhythm anywhere. Even after his betrayal, my heart still lurches when I see him. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, his face shadowed by the light behind him. His usual all-black attire. Gloves. No emotion.
Everything about him looks foreign. I’m not even sure I knew him at all. He doesn’t move. Just watches me.
“You’re awake,” he says flatly.
It’s his voice, but not. The tone’s wrong. Too calculated. Cold.
I try to swallow the dryness in my throat, but it burns when I speak. “Fuck off.”
Jace shakes his head as he walks toward me. Each step is bouncing off the walls.
“Still such a smart mouth.” He shakes his head, crouching in front of me.
I used to fight back. But the lack of energy quickly snuffed that out. I don’t waste the energy to say anything more. I adjust my head to look up at Jace. The light is bright, but I swear there’s a flicker of something in his eyes.
Maybe I imagined it.
There are flowers everywhere. The sun is shining, and there's a soft pleasant breeze ruffling my hair. Clouds float lazily in the sky. I turn, there's a figure standing a few feet away. His back is to me, but I’d know him anywhere.
“Tex?” My voice trembles with disbelief.
Tex turns, smiling at me.
“Hey there, little fighter.” He's dressed in a fitted black dress shirt and black jeans.
“Am I finally dead?” I look around us.
Tex's eyes soften. “No, you're not.”
“Where am I?” I look around us, there's nothing but fields and trees.
I turn back to find Tex, sitting on a blanket.
“Come sit, let's talk.”
I take a seat next to him.
“This isn't real…” I breathe out. “Sitting this close, I'd normally feel your warmth… but you, you died…” My voice cracks, and my eyes well with tears.
“No, don't cry, Isobel.” Tex turns to me but doesn't reach for me. “I died for you, and I'd do it all over again.”
“I wouldn't!” The tears roll down my cheeks. “I would've told you to duck. I would've...” I gasp.
“Slow down. Just breathe, Iz. There's nothing we can do now. We only have a limited time together.”
“What?” I sniffle, “Limited time?”
“We're in your subconscious, Iz, you'll wake up again.”
I wipe my eyes. “I don't want to, I'd rather stay here with you.”
“No, you need to go back.”
“But I don't want to! You've seen what's been happening. Dakota? Jace? I'm getting betrayed left and right.”
“I know, Iz, I know it’s hard. But you have to go back. Imagine what would happen to Maeve, to Lucian? Noah and Luca? Even Jace.”
I scoff and cross my arms.
“Jace wouldn't care. Haven't you been paying attention?”
Tex shakes his head and laughs.
“Glad to see you still got a smart-ass mouth. I'm always with you, Isobel. You got this. You've survived so much. You'll survive this, too.”
“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty.” Butch is banging two pots together.
My eyelids are heavy. The effort it takes to open them takes more than I’d like to admit.
“I remember the days when she was so sure Lucian would find her.” Gideon’s voice has ice running down my spine.
Then the hiss of metal, the faint splash of water sloshing somewhere behind me. My heart stutters. I don’t even have the strength to flinch before it happens.
The first drop hits my shoulder like acid. Then the flood follows—a shock so violent my lungs forget how to work.
Ice crashes down my spine, and the air is ripped from my chest. The sound that tears out of me doesn’t sound human. My body jerks against the restraints, muscles seizing, teeth clacking hard enough to hurt. Every nerve is screaming, every breath shallow and panicked.
It doesn’t even feel like water—it feels like knives. Like my skin is being split open repeatedly.
Somewhere above the ringing in my ears, I hear someone say something—words I can’t make out. My vision blurs, flashing white at the edges.
Then it’s over. The cold clings to me anyway, dripping down my neck, pooling beneath me. I gasp in short, useless bursts, shivering so hard my bones ache. The chains bite into my wrists.
The floor tilts. Maybe I’m falling. Maybe I already did.
My head lolls forward, breath rattling. The water is still there, dripping from the little rags I wear. I can’t tell if I’m shaking from the cold or from what’s left of fear.
Gideon’s face enters my vision; it swims a bit.
“W-what d-do-o y-you w-w-want?” I can feel the smallest bit of adrenaline pulsing in my veins, giving me a moment of clarity and strength to speak.
“Well.” Gideon stands up straight and begins to walk, like he’s a villain in a movie, “I have plans. And while Lucian is focused on Daniel and finding you. I need time to prepare.” His smile is cruel.
“J-j-just k-kill me then.” I try to glare.
“Oh no, Isobel. That would be very short-sighted of me. You see, a corpse is useless. But a living ghost? That, well, that’s a message.”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The adrenaline is fading fast, and the world begins to blur.
“Make sure he finds the picture.” I hear Gideon’s voice contort before darkness takes over.