Chapter 98

Margot's POV

The silence between us was shredded by the shrill buzzers echoing through the block, a sound I was already starting to recognise. It was the signal that the locks were undone, cells were open, 'freedom' granted for the first time that day.

The sound rattled down the concrete hallways like a jarring alarm clock, breaking whatever strange current had woven between Coban and me. He stiffened, jaw tight, and for a moment I thought he might just say nothing. But then I caught it, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking briefly to the door, then back to me.

"Dress quickly," he said at last, his voice low and rough but steadier now. "I'll take you to eat."

It wasn't a suggestion. It never was with him. It was a plan, one that I had no choice but to follow, but I still found myself grateful for the break.

He turned abruptly, moving toward the bathroom in long, purposeful strides, and before I could even blink, the door slammed shut with a violent crack that made me flinch.

For a few long moments, I stood frozen, staring at the closed door, barely realising I’d been holding my breath until it escaped in a long, shaky exhale. My hands trembled as I finally reached for the drawers once again, rifling through clothes like a thief desperate not to get caught. The towel slipped down dangerously, and I clutched it tighter against my chest as I grabbed the first things that made sense: underwear, socks, and a pair of shorts.

I then proceeded to head towards the box I had returned with last night, fishing out a pale blue T-shirt, soft cotton, worn thin in places, baggy but cooling in contrast to the sweatshirts I had grown used to wearing. The shorts were jogger material, stopping just above my knees, as I debated whether or not Coban would find them acceptable… maybe? I don’t see why not…

I hurried to pull on a sports bra, fingers fumbling in my rush, every nerve on edge at the thought of him walking out suddenly to find me exposed like this. My cheeks instantly reddened as I moved to tug the t-shirt down over my damp skin, it clinging uncomfortably in places, but as I tugged it down, my knuckles brushed the tender skin at my throat.

A sharp hiss escaped me before I could stop it. God, it hurt a lot! The bruises were spreading faster than I'd realised, and I could feel them deepening in colour without having to look. The raw burn of his grip lingered with every movement I would make today. Talking earlier had already left my throat ragged, but even breathing seemed to sting now. I would kill for a cold drink of water…

I paused, one hand instinctively covering the marks, pressing down as though I could hide them from sight. But I couldn't hide them from myself. It was getting worse by the second.

I swallowed hard against the ache, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Crying wouldn’t help, not now, not with him just a few feet away, just behind that door…

The sound of running water carried from inside the bathroom, muffling into white noise. It was strange—comforting and threatening all at once. The idea of him so close, separated by only a wall.

I sat down on the mattress edge, pulling my fingers through my drying hair, distraught over the fresh, bouncy waves they once were… I began fixing and tying the strings of my shorts into place as I tried to focus on anything else.

Cara…

If I could just see her today, maybe I’d feel like I wasn’t spiralling completely. She was the only person I could unload any of this onto, the only one who listened without judgment, who still felt like a piece of the world before all of this. Cara would take one look at me, at my throat, and I knew exactly what she’d say. Fury first, followed by her endless string of plans—what I should do, what I should say, how I could stop him next time… She’d hate that I was already finding excuses for him too.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

It was strange how easily the forgiveness came, how quickly I’d allowed myself to brush off what he’d done, to reason it away in a way I never had before with my father. Because with my father, there had never been an excuse. He’d been fully conscious every time he raised his hand to me. Sometimes drunk, yes, but always present enough to know what he was doing, to want to hurt and destroy me.

Coban wasn’t the same.

I couldn’t explain why, but I knew it. His rage had been blind, animalistic, something darker than intent. A blackout. A monster he couldn’t leash—especially during his sleep.

And maybe that was why I couldn’t bring myself to hate him for any of it. I knew the man who’d crushed my throat in his sleep wasn’t the same one who had just asked me why I didn’t hate him…

He wasn’t the same.

The water shut off suddenly, breaking me from my thoughts. The silence afterward seemed louder than the buzzers, louder than my own heartbeat, as I sat stiffly, clutching the hem of my T-shirt like it was armour.

Any second now, he’d come out.

And I didn’t know which Coban I was about to face next…

The door clicked, handle dipped, before a mass of steam wafted from inside as Coban strolled out of there like a God. My eyes flickered to his, the fringes of his dark hair still damp and sticking down on to his forehead. His abs glistened under the few droplets that still remained on his body, before my eyes found his boxer clad package…

Holy crap!

My eyes darted away as he scoffed, the sound like a sharp bullet to my ears.

"Stop eyeing me up like a damn snack when I just nearly fucking killed you!" He hissed, the words making my cheeks sting with embarrassment. Why was I acting like an animal on heat all of a sudden? And towards a man like him? A man who did, in fact, just nearly choke me to death!

"Sorry…" was all I could mumble in excuse of my staring, as Coban pulled on a black pair of gym shorts and a black gym material t-shirt.

"C'mon." He motioned with his head towards the door, as I stood up a little too quickly at the command.

He waited until I approached him, overtaking him, before he followed me out of the cell. I glanced back a couple of times to make sure he was still behind me, before he eventually said;

"I’m right here. You’ll walk in front of me today." He huffed out lowly, taking note of my confusion, as I nodded once and continued on—hoping that I remembered the way there on my own by now.

Why did he want to walk behind me…