A fragment of memories shot into my head. The soothing tones of a girl I’d once loved. The sobs of a boy I’d hugged in the dark. The stench of a communal bucket being used by all of us. We hadn’t had the luxury of being given a bathroom. We hadn’t been given privacy. Fuck, our bodies hadn’t been ours since the day we’d stepped through the cave and entered this place.
Christ.
Ice water shot down my spine as I shoved such things away and slammed the door in my mind.
What the fuck?
That shouldn’t have happened.
I’d spent a decade forgetting. I would forget for the rest of my life. Until she’d arrived, I could go months in blissful oblivion, alone and not fully recalling why, content in my loneliness because I knew there were things far, far worse out there.
First the sleepwalking and now remembering while I was still awake?
What’s next?
Full-blown recollection of things I couldn’t afford to recall? What if my nightmares entered my reality again? What if I couldn’t shut it off?
Panic made me angry, and anger made me short-tempered. Snatching her by the wrist, I barked, “Enough. Time to go home.”
She pulled against me as I dragged her from the bathroom. Her socked feet slid on the marble tile, skidding into me. “Wait. I don’t want to go back down there.”
“I don’t care what you want.”
“Please. Lock me in here. Let me have access to sunlight and a toilet, for god’s sake.”
Hauling her through the room, I glowered at the crimson and silver space. Luckily, no other memories sprang forth. Only the vague sensation that something bad had happened here, and it was time for me to go.
Reaching the door, I changed the subject. I deflected back onto my tempting little trespasser. A prisoner I should probably get rid of but still wanted far too badly. “How many exits do you count? Be honest, I’m curious.”
Her forehead furrowed, her arm still squirming in my hold for freedom.
I waited for her to play dumb. To pretend she hadn’t searched every wall, nook, and window for signs of easy breakouts. However, she once again surprised me when she stopped fighting and went with honesty instead. “I really shouldn’t say this, but at first glance, I see one in the bathroom and at least three in this bedroom.”
The door, window, and balcony.
I stopped pulling her, and we stood far too close. So close those damn currents of energy crackled between us, making my belly coil and thighs bunch. “The windows being the obvious choice.”
She nodded reluctantly. “That and this door. I remember the layout of the house. If I could pick the lock, I could run down the corridor and out the front door.”
“There aren’t any locks.” I clenched my jaw against hazy awareness of why that was. Why this entire place didn’t have a single lock on any door or window, apart from the cells below and my rigged attempts in my dorm. I’d made deadbolts for the exterior doors but hadn’t bothered with the internal ones. It’d been yet another mind game. A power trip to those unfortunate not to be guests here but permanent residents.
“Is that why you won’t let me stay in this room?”
“What do you think?” I sneered.
“I think I proved you can trust me.”
I laughed. “It’ll take a lot more than that to earn my trust.”
“Tell me, and I’ll do it.” Her green swirling eyes melded with brown, firing with so many things. The intensity of her made my heart pound. She made equal urges of violence and protection fight for space in my chest.
It couldn’t be permitted to continue.
Shutting everything down, locking her out of my goddamn heart and head, I dug my fingers into her wrist and dragged her down the corridor.
“Wait.” She once again tried to free herself. “Stop! Let’s talk about this—”
I barely even noticed.
I was done with this.
I wanted to be alone.
Her pleas, threats, and curses made no difference as I relocated her from splendor to squalor. Down the stairs and into the dank darkness.
“Sleep well.” I gave her a shove, tossing her inside the cell before slamming the door in her face.
* * * * *
That night, I didn’t sleepwalk.
I dreamed.
I fell into the pits of my desolated and demented mind, coating myself in filth I could never be free of, drowning in memories that I refused to recall.
And I died a little more.
I’d been dying ever since I’d arrived in this putrid house.
“You all good?”
I raised my bruised head and forced my eyes to focus on Zanik. It took effort to see again. To summon the will to pay attention instead of wishing on a minutely basis to be blind.
Zanik stood as straight as his last beating would allow him. His bronze skin a shade lighter with agony. His black eyes and midnight hair were as feral as the rest of us.