Page 12

11

Cindi

Did he just…

“Where the fuck did you go?” I yell at the pool, mouth dry.

Nothing.

Nada.

Silence.

Fucking prick .

I grab the knife off the ground and chuck it at the wall.

It clatters off the rock with a high-pitched ring.

I want to hit something.

Scream. Throw things.

Cry until my voice is completely hoarse.

Rage. Burn this world to the fucking ground.

So, I do it.

I scream like shards of glass are tearing through my veins.

I turn the cave upside down, smashing rocks, splintering wood, ripping moss away from stone.

It’s not nearly satisfying enough.

I’m dimly aware of the pain in my hand and the tears rushing down my cheeks as I run around the cavern to search for an exit.

I barely wince when my foot slices open on the harsh rock floor, hardly swallow when my mouth feels like sandpaper.

Oxygen rushes from my lungs, and I stumble, head swimming.

A fresh wave of tears pours down my cheeks.

I’m so sick of being sick.

I have to get out of here.

Staying isn’t an option.

I was free . I escaped Tommy.

I was this close to getting the hell out of here.

How did I end up right back where I started, but with a…

Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this.

But with a goddamn, living, breathing, eight-armed fucking kraken .

A kraken who does things to my body I can’t explain—relaxes it, lulls it into a faux sense of comfort.

A kraken whose suckers I can still feel around my nipples.

A kraken who wants to own me.

Keep me as a pretty pet.

Lock me in a cage, throw away the key, try placating me with pretty words or flowers to get me back in line.

Tommy told me I would want for nothing, that he’d take care of me because he loved me more than the moon and the stars.

There would be nothing that would keep us apart.

Little did I know, it was because he chained me up, then threw away the key.

Maybe I should be scared shitless about the mythical sea monster aspect of my captor.

Sure, his size and the knowledge he could kill me with a single swipe is frightening, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.

Size and shape and looks mean fucking nothing.

Tommy was beautiful.

He had the most dazzling smile I’d ever seen, like he just walked off the cover of Vogue .

Look where that got me.

On the other hand, Dad had friends who towered over me, could pick up a tire with a single finger, push trucks without breaking a sweat; one guy could even lift his Harley as a party trick.

Despite their intimidating size, the leather jackets, and fuck you attitude, they were gentle giants, patched up teddy bears.

I don’t need to go out to sea to find a monster; they exist on land.

They hide under human skin and call themselves men.

I don’t want to be around to discover whether the textbook monster is just as evil.

The cavern alone is as big as the small, two-bedroom cabin I was stolen from, lit by the glowing matter slimy to the touch, the last vestiges of moonlight pouring in through the hole above the pool.

I skitter to a stop at a deep alcove to the side of the cave, saying a silent prayer I’ll find an exit.

Instead, beds of moss stare back at me, rich greens illuminated by the threads of blue and purple bioluminescent matter climbing up the walls.

Everywhere smells like him but better, and it’s sending me into more of a tailspin.

It makes no sense as to why I’m having this kind of reaction to someone—some thing’s —smell.

My eyes dart to the crooked archway on the opposite side of the cavern.

I half limp to the opening, spreading my blood over stone from the cuts on my feet.

If he doesn’t decide to eat me, maybe I’ll die from infection instead.

Or dehydration.

The entrance could be a gateway into hell, a black hole where things go to perish.

The light from the main cave doesn’t reach more than a few steps into the tunnel.

I swing my blurry stare to the undisturbed pool, swaying from the exhaustion that sank its teeth into me and is gnawing on me like a dog with a fresh kill.

The monster could return at any second.

If I want to get out of here, I need to do it now.

I take a step forward, muttering a string of profanities.

He left.

That creature actually left .

Without me. Without any response or weak attempt at assurance that he won’t leave me here and check up on me once a day to drop off food and take his pound of flesh.

I can’t fathom why else he’d want me here— me , of all people.

Maybe he’s got other women trapped around here.

I don’t believe his promise of protection for one second.

Maybe he doesn’t plan on sharing his things, but I’ve been a fool once, and it’s not happening again.

Being Tommy’s fiancée afforded me certain protections too—from everyone but him.

Tommy was exceptional at keeping other men away because he instilled the fear of God into me that it would somehow be my fault if someone’s gaze lingered too long.

The one time someone played with his toy, I heard the echo of a gunshot, followed by total silence.

My mind races as I squint against the darkness.

There’s no telling where the tunnel leads.

I could get lost in there or come across something other .

I rub the muscles in my sore arm and glance back at the hole above the pool.

There has to be another exit besides that.

Getting to it is a feat I’m not sure even a seasoned rock climber can achieve.

The rock wall is curved with hardly any prominent grooves that I can make out.

Jagged stones await at the bottom of the hole, promising injury if there’s one slip—and there will be a slipup with the state of my arm and shitty vestibular system.

Then, there’s the way we came in.

I’m a decent swimmer, but there’s no way I’ll be able to get out through the underwater channel without drowning.

I’m out of options. The tunnel is my only choice.

It leads either to an unknown place or something far worse than the devil I know.

I swipe the tears from my face and grit my teeth against the agony throughout my body as I put one tentative foot in front of the other, using the damp cave walls as a guide.

Minutes tick by, or maybe they’re a matter of seconds, possibly hours.

I can’t tell.

“Shit,” I hiss, losing my footing and crashing my knee into something hard and jagged.

Pain slices up my leg.

I rear back and almost lose my balance.

My hands fly out in front of me to land on a solid surface.

Harsh breaths echo through the tunnel.

Every sound I make is like an alarm that will alert the monster to my attempted escape.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Rotting away isn’t how I wanted to go.

Pull yourself fucking together, I scold myself, drawing whatever is left of my sanity to gain some semblance of control over my emotions.

I quickly feel the walls around me to gain a sense of direction.

No.

It can’t be.

My heart hammers in my chest as I keep turning in my spot, hands out to orient myself.

It’s the perfect 360 spin.

It’s a dead end.

“ Fuck, fuck, fuck. ” Tears of frustration burn down my cheeks.

Hopelessness, raw and guttural, pounds down on me.

Why is this happening to me?

Why me? What could I have possibly done in my past life to deserve all this?

My knees buckle, and I narrowly stop myself from falling.

I’m so tired, exhausted from constantly running, fearing for my life.

There’s never going to be an expiration date to this feeling—it makes me question the point of fighting.

Dad said he’ll always be happy as long as I’m doing what makes me happy.

He’s not even here, and I can feel his disappointment.

Happiness isn’t on the table for me.

The only thing I can offer him is my survival, however fleeting that might be.

I have to go back to the cavern.

Climbing out of the hole is my only option.

I swallow, attempting to bring moisture to my dry mouth.

When was the last time I drank something?

Ate? The lack of food and water wouldn’t be helping my condition either.

My head swims as I trudge forward, the vestiges of my adrenaline chipping away until I’m struggling to stay upright.

Today has consisted of trauma after trauma.

Exhaustion has me by my throat.

I’m panting by the time I stumble into the cave, coated in a layer of cold sweat, grime, and blue liquid I can only assume is the evidence of my attempted attack on the kraken.

I pause, narrowing my eyes against the sudden light and waning energy.

At the edges of my blurry vision, I spot something circular and brown.

My brows furrow as I close the distance, half crawling, half walking.

A coconut . It sits atop a pile of shells, all husks of different maturity that have been broken, or…

gnawed on?

My stomach grumbles.

I snatch the fruit at the top, and my heart sinks.

It’s empty. Dammit.

Movement sounds behind me.

I whip around, holding the object up in defense.

That’s not the krak-

My eyes widen.

I clamor back from the thing that just stepped out of the pool.

What the ever-loving fuck is that?

I saw it briefly back at my cabin, but up close…

The shark-dog tips its head to the side, watching me with keen curiosity.

Beneath the low light, I can make out more than his silhouette this time.

It’s shaped like a dog, but with fins and a wider, rounder, more stretched out snout like a shark—although with a black nose at the very end like a canine.

It has the same coloring as one of the common octopus breeds in the area: cherry brown, with yellow along his snout, around his eyes, and like socks on his feet.

I find myself leaning closer, noticing the white dots on his stomach and below the fins on the backs of his legs.

Are those…suckers?

A shiver rolls down my spine when I catch sight of its razor-sharp teeth.

Between its maw is a greenish thing shaped like a ball.

My muscles lock when it steps forward.

What are the chances I can outrun that thing?

Nil. Absolutely zero.

Looking it in the eye is a bad idea, but I can’t stop staring, brows stitching together.

The creature is really quite fascinating.

What did the kraken call him?

Chad?

It isn’t quite staring back at me.

I follow its line of sight to the coconut in my hand, and I glance at the teeth marks on the pile of husks beside me.

Oh shit. I’m playing with its toys.

My hand trembles, raising the coconut as an offering—no, bad idea.

Don’t invite it closer.

Throat bobbing, I slowly— so very slowly—lower it to the ground and roll the fruit its way, inching from the creature’s pile.

The green ball—another coconut—thuds onto the floor from his mouth.

He looks up at me, and I hold my breath.

Then, his piercing stare drops to the coconut I rolled his way.

Up at me. Back to the fruit.

Me. Coconut. Me. Back to the coconut.

Me again.

It steps toward me, and I suppress every one of my instincts to jump back with a scream.

It presses its snout to the coconut, making the cute aggressive sniffing sound like dogs do.

Then, in a move that has me questioning everything I know about biology and animal behavior, its shark tail starts swishing side to side.

The good kind of tail-wagging.

I blow out a breath, feeling like I’ve passed a test I didn’t know I was taking.

Before I can question my next move, it spins around and trots back toward the pool, leaping into the water in an unceremonious cannonball.

I blink.

What just happened?

I’m hallucinating, surely.

My attention drops to the coconut it left behind, the only proof I have that my interaction with a shark-dog took place.

I glance up at the hole above the pool and check the alcove with the bed of moss to make sure I’m the only one around.

Whatever. It’s gone.

I blow out a breath. It’s now or never.