Chapter 3

15.3K 700 53
                                    

Pulling the blanket a little tighter around my shoulders, I buried my head further into the pillow. It smelt good, no it smelt amazing. It smelt like Nate. Opening my eyes, the darkness isn't what I was used to waking up in. The bedroom walls were not worn panels of wood, but smoothly painted and the kind you expect in a house. There was no chill in the air, a sign of central heating and enjoying the blankets, pillow and actual mattress – I was definitely not in my room.  I was in Nate’s.

The flood of questions that followed that realization had me closing my eyes so when I reopened them and nothing had changed, I got scared. I shouldn't be in the house, let alone in his room or in his bed. I had left my room and thought about going into the house, is there where I ended up?

I quickly got out of bed, looking down to find I wasn't completely in my clothes either. Nate’s university t-shirt consumed me and praying I hadn't got dirt from my jeans on his sheets, looked around for my clothes. They were nowhere to be seen and so rather than risk running back to the barn topless kept the shirt on, wondering if I could go back to my room, change and get the shirt back before anyone noticed.

I was in so much trouble, no wonder I dreamed about Dean chasing me down and… shaking my head I paused by the mirror above the set of draws. Purple bruises covered the right side of my face and it was no surprise I had a headache from the way I looked.

That had all been a dream, right?

Looking at my hands they were filthy, covered in a mixture of dirt and blood and the more I started inspecting myself, the more I noticed. Bruises on my arm, scratches on my back. It hadn’t been a dream and hearing the heavy thud of footsteps outside the door, I ran back into the bed and pulled the blankets over me to hide. Despite what happened earlier, surely Nate wouldn't have become so cruel at our discovery to throw me to the wolves if he found me in here. Maybe he would think it was a desperate act of attention - then again, how did I get in here? Closing my eyes I try to pretend I was still out of it, hoping to buy myself some time to work things out.

“She is mine. End of discussion.” Nate growled and the footsteps stopped outside the door. Angry bursts of whispering followed and as the door was slammed shut, I couldn't stop myself from jumping – easily giving away the fact I was awake.

“This is not over! You have until the morning to find her and end it or I will make sure she does!” His Dad yelled and the splintering crack that followed made me thankful I was not out in the hall to feel his wrath right now.

“Sylvie?” Nate ignored his Fathers outburst, bending down beside the bed. He carefully pushed away my hair from where it covered my face and looking up at him, my Nate was back. He was clearly wound up, the tension shown in the way he still clenched his jar and from the frown that dominated his features. Yet his eyes were clear, gentle and never had anyone looked at me in the way he was now. It was the way my Dad used to look at my Mum. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused. I thought-“

“I know. I am so, so sorry.” He kept on stroking my hair, and instinctively I leaned into his touch. “I- I was honestly shocked  and then I realized what was going on and I wasn't going to let them hurt you again. Never again. I spent all day working out what to do.”

MineWhere stories live. Discover now