It’s been another painstaking week in this hellhole, and I feel like no one is coming. Slade and I remained trapped within these four dirt walls.
“What was it like growing up as Bailey Graff?” Slade grunts as he does his thirty seventh push up.
“You want to know about my childhood?”
“It’s all we’ve got to do down here. Humor me,” he mutters, continuing until he hits fifty.
I envy his strength right now because I can barely move without my limbs feeling as if they’ve been torched. Each day, the pain has grown to new intensity. I thought I’d experienced the worst of it, but I wake up and am proven wrong.
“I grew up in Crimson River. My parents loved me, but they weren’t necessarily supportive. And of course, my sister was the star. An Alpha born with stars in her eyes. I knew from
