16. Annalise
Chapter sixteen
Annalise
Gods. Damnit.
I want—no, I need—to feel the ground shift evenly beneath my feet, but it doesn’t. And it’s all my fault.
My scattered thoughts. My uneven strides.
Every step I've been desperate for feels wrong, like my own body has turned against me. I fight to keep my leg from betraying me, but every falter sends another spike of panic through my chest, shaking my already fragile composure.
How am I supposed to survive a war against Clowess when I can't even make it through a simple run through campus without my body betraying me?
I push harder, letting Our Last Midnight's "Hold On To Me" fill my ears, the lyrics urging me forward when my body wants to give up.
One more step.
Then another.
My foot catches, and I stumble ungraciously.
A sharp breath leaves me as I throw my arms out, barely catching myself on a nearby tree before I hit the ground.
I can feel his eyes assessing me, but if I look now, I fear I’ll give in to the leg trembles I’ve been ignoring since I tied my shoes.
I hate it. I hate the weakness. I hate the hesitation. I hate that my body, which has survived beatings, battles, and things far worse, suddenly doesn't know how to do something as simple as run.
The urge to scream claws its way up my throat, and I’m afraid if I give in now, I may never be able to dig myself out of this despair, regardless of how many therapy sessions Dean Stevens forces on me.
Straightening, I take a breath.
Then another.
“That’s it! You’re doing great! Keep that stride. Your muscles remember exactly how to carry you—you just have to trust them, even if you aren’t fully ready to trust yourself,” Korr’s presence is somehow supportive but not intrusive to the war raging inside that I’m determined not to concede to.
Every unhealed step is ugly, uneven, and slow enough to make my teeth grind, but I push anyway because if my body wants a fight, it'll learn the same damn lesson they did…
It picked the wrong fucking woman.
I’m not weak.
I’m not worthless.
And I’m not defeated.
I was captured by devils, and even before I knew they took the most precious part of me that I’ll never get to know, I became the creature of their nightmares.
I harnessed the piece of my first monster that’ll never leave me.
Not damage, but proof they didn’t win.
Proof that if he couldn’t keep me down after so many years of physically breaking me, no one can.
“Only a quarter of a mile more,” Hunter calls from mere steps behind me. “Leave it all out here.”
Each squelching step through the mud feels like dragging chains wrapped around my ankles, each one heavier than the last, but I ignore the shake radiating up my leg, and suffocate the urge to give up.
I will not be that girl.
I refuse to allow a few hours bound at the hands of minuscule men to define me.
As I break through the woods and into the clearing surrounding Korr’s house, I can’t help but push a little harder, the deep sense of satisfaction lending me a stability I haven’t felt in far too long.
Three miles.
Only half of what I’m used to running? Sure, but twice what I thought I could accomplish when I crawled out of bed this morning. Three times what I thought I’d be able to achieve when I woke up two weeks ago.
My legs threaten to give out from beneath me, but whether it’s determination or pure stubbornness, I force myself to stand upright. Planting my hands on my head to open my airways, I focus—one breath at a time—one foot in front of the other.
In the silence behind the pain, I recite the only prayer my mother ever taught me.
“I do not bend. I do not break. The Gods be with me whilst my confidence does shake. For greater things have tested me, and lesser foes have failed. With my faith abounding, the source shall be unveiled.”
“What’s on your schedule today?”
“Oh, you know, I was thinking about going into town to do some shopping, maybe find a bar—”
A breakfast potato hits me in the forehead, and I can’t hide my shock. “Did you just throw food at me, Hunter?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, a crooked grin tugging at his lips as I wipe the potato remnants off my forehead, and he takes another bite of his food. “Now, if you're done being sarcastic…”
I make a show of rolling my eyes before answering, “Not much. I’m going to try to get all my studying done this morning, so I have all afternoon to shoot. Matt’s going to come out and put some new targets out for me at lunchtime.”
“I could have done that for you; you didn’t have to call him,” he says in between bites.
“Pretty sure letting a recruit live with you is enough charity.” He tries to cut in, but I don’t let him.
“Plus…since we don't get to spend time together during any of our classes today, it'll give us some time to hang out.
He's been talking to a new girl for like a week, so I'm hoping there will be some good, juicy details. "
“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll be sure not to come back during lunch.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in over dinner."
"Please don't."
My phone starts to vibrate on the table. My therapist.
“Hunter, you’re late! You should already be headed to class.”
He shrugs as though being late for the class he instructs is no big deal, but other than on orientation day, I’ve never seen him late before.
Answering my phone, I quickly verify my name and date of birth for the receptionist while Hunter puts our empty dishes in the sink. I can’t help but admire how he moves around the kitchen with a stealthy grace; something I’m sure was learned from his years of sneaking around battlefields.
Before heading to the door, he pauses beside me—close enough that his heat radiates against my skin. His fingers brushing against my arm, and despite how quickly they vanish, a shiver races up my spine and steals my breath.
“I’ll see you in class in a bit,” he says, voice low so I can still hear the other end of my call. “Please don’t push yourself too hard today.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer. Turning on his heel, he jogs out of the room, leaving a lingering warmth on my arm and the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.
“Ms. Corvin, are you there? Hello?”
Shit.
“Hi! Yes, I’m here!”
Over the next hour, I spend far too much time talking through how I’m feeling about my first day back in classes, my new recurring nightmares, and what my goals are moving forward.
Every conversation with the therapist gives me new tools to handle the bouts of anxiety and self-blame that sneak up.
She says they are all normal reactions, and that with time and practice, I’ll be able to move forward.
For now, I let the knowledge that Web and Platt are dead give me comfort.
Every time my mind tries to tell me that I should have done more, fought harder, I remember that I outsmarted them. I killed one and made the other one suffer through the last minutes of his life before Hunter ended him.
I kept them from taking it any further. And though I had to be saved in the woods, I didn’t need to be saved from my piece of shit attackers.