This is Love, Baby(35)

His white teeth are stained red and my blood drips from his chin. The green eyes morph into the color of coffee, before turning almost black. And he’s no longer a boy, but the devil who owns this cabin. He slams his thickness into me and I scream. My blood drips from his chin and splashes onto my face. With each drip into my eyes, I become blind. The world around me turns red with my blood. The devil fucks me straight to hell.

“That’s my baby inside of you,” he taunts.

I shake my head in vehemence. I’m waiting for my white horse to show up, carrying my hero. But then I remember he’s dead.

He can’t save me.

Can’t save me from their evil.

The demonic eyes find mine and he tears his hand from my mouth, instantly replacing it with his tongue. It plunges inside so deeply that I retch in response. The taste of the metallic blood—my blood—and the way he tries to fuck my throat with his thick tongue is too much.

I gag and gag and gag.

“Baylee.”

The voice is soft and sweet. I miss it so much.

“Mom?”

I’m now in the cemetery and I’m staring at her tombstone. The air is cold and the monsters are momentarily gone.

“Baylee,” she whispers again, her voice wrapping around me in a comforting hug. “Help me…”

The earth moves in front of her grave and I scramble over to it. Her long slender finger pokes through the dirt and wiggles at me.

“Mom!” I screech and begin clawing at the ground.

“You left me,” she tells me sadly.

With a shake of my head in disagreement, I dig and dig until her arm is free to her elbow. Grabbing onto it, I pull with all my might. Soon, her dirty face emerges and her blue eyes stare at me almost in an accusing way.

“You left me.”

I’m sobbing as I completely free her from the dirt. Her frail body collapses on mine and I get a whiff of decomposing flesh.

“Mom, I’m here. I’m here,” I tell her and rake my fingers through her filthy blonde hair, hugging her to me. “I wanted to save you. I thought War’s money could save you. Mommy, I tried.”

She lets out a groan, her breath a deadly stench. “You were too late, honey. Too late.”

When my body begins to shudder with hysterical sobs, I close my eyes and try not to throw up. But when I reopen them, I’m back in the forest behind Gabe’s cabin. The monster with the coffee-colored eyes is standing above me unbuckling his jeans. He pulls out his cock and I try to run. One step, two step, three step.

His weight is suddenly on top of me. Crushing. Deadly. Soul consuming. He smashes my face into the brush and I’m choking on leaves. Sticks poke at my face. Ants crawl into my ears. The jingle of his belt jolts me into action and I squirm to avoid his harsh punishment.

“Three steps, three licks,” he taunts before the fire tears across my flesh.

“Ahhhh!”

My scream could wake the dead. Maybe Mom will come save me even though I couldn’t save her.

“Baylee! Wake up!”

My eyes fly open and a dark shadow is on top of me, holding my arms down against the bed.

“Help me!” I screech and squirm against my attacker. “Get off me!”

“Jesus, it’s me,” he says softly. “You were having a nightmare and were flipping out. I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself.”

My body somewhat relaxes once I realize it’s Brandon—not the monster from my dream. Memories of my mother fade away. The forest dissipates in the air around me. Smells, sounds, pain—they all flee and leave me in peace.

“There she is,” he coos and presses a kiss to my forehead.

Only then do I realize our position. He’s on top of me, his cock pressed against my bare pussy with only the fabric of his boxers preventing him from pushing into me. My legs around his hips. His strong grip on my wrists pressing into the bed on either side of my head.

“Brandon…” I start but he shushes me with a soft kiss on my lips.

Anxiety washes over me and my heart thunders inside my chest as if it might explode at any moment.

“I’m going to take care of you, babe,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Always.”

A shudder ripples through me when he grows hard. It’s enough to throw me out of my daze. “Get off me!”

He jerks away and stares down at me, shock morphing his features. You’d think I’d just slapped him. If he’ll free my hands, I’ll do just that. But he rolls off and away from me, pain contorting his features.

“I’m not him,” he chokes out. “I’m not that fucking monster. I love you.”

I scramble out of the bed and back away toward the bathroom. But it’s when I hear him crying—soft, masculine sobs—that I begin to ache inside. He’s right. He’s not a monster like Gabe. But he’s not the playful, innocent boy I left behind either. The Brandon I knew before would never pin me down. Never take anything from me unless I was ready to give it. I should be grateful for Brandon. And I am. He’s here when nobody else would or could be. The man—and yes, he’s all man now—only wants to look after me. To love me. But why can’t he understand that right now, I just need my friend?