Page 7 of His to Ruin

But then he left me. I’m crouched, cold, and alone in the woods. Again, what the hell just happened?

Pushing up on timid legs, I stumble to my feet. I’m wobbly, the strength of my release still causing me to feel light headed.It’s like he sucked my strength straight out of my dick. I feel around the cool, damp ground until I find my discarded keys. I really should go back for my bag but shame and fear cause my legs to move forward, toward the safety of my apartment. I’m sure the assholes that attacked me will be back. They might have been scared away for a moment, but bullies usually come for retribution. I’ll be safest locked in my own apartment.

My feet squelch in the mud as I slowly pick my way through the trees and brush. The light of the moon overhead is the only thing lighting my path. I stumble over rocks and scrape against branches. It's slow going.

A noise off to my right catches my attention, causing me to still. I pause, listening intently. Somewhere in the distance an owl calls into the night. A slight wind rustles leaves. But that’s all I hear. It must have been an animal. It’s the darkness within my own imagination, nothing more.

I continue my slow, painful trek through the woods. My thighs ache as I head uphill. A chill slithers up my spine. I turn, the feeling of eyes on my back causing me to pause again. I scan the rows of dark trees behind me, but all that’s there is shadows.

Someone’s watching me. I can feel it.

I pick up my pace. My feet slip on the wet ground but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I can’t slow down. My lungs burn with the cool night air, slipping from between my lips in white whispers. Footsteps echo off the trees from behind me but I don’t turn to look, too afraid of what I’ll see. The glow of a street lamp ahead beckons me toward it, pushing me to break out into a run. I pump my legs harder but the feeling of someone right on my back, closing in on me, is persistent.

My feet hit the pavement with a thud. I start to slow and stop. Bent over beneath the golden glow of the street lampabove, trying to catch my breath, I turn. My gaze scans the rows of dark trees behind me. But there’s nothing there.

Sometimes a long,hot shower and a cup of tea make everything better. Sitting in my fuzzy robe and pajama bottoms, sipping peppermint tea out of my chipped ceramic mug, and reading a new romance book, I feel like a new person. The events of tonight almost seem ridiculous.

There’s no such thing as monsters and demons. My mind must have concocted the entire story in order to cope with the real terror of the evening. The homophobic asshole and his friends were unfortunately very real. And I have a feeling they’ll be back. I’ve been bullied for the way I am for most of my life. Even before I knew I was gay, other kids did and they thought it was something worth laughing about. I’m used to being teased for who I am, unfortunately. But I grew up here. I’ve lived in this small New England town my entire life, and never once have I felt truly unsafe. Not until tonight. I have no doubt those men were out for blood.

I could really use some reassurance, someone who understands. I worry my bottom lip as I look at my cell phone sitting on the kitchen island across from me. I really shouldn’t text him. It’s a really bad idea.

Crap.

Rising from my seat and discarding my book, I pad across the soft beige carpet of my apartment toward the island. My apartment is open concept with one main room that contains the living room, eating area, and kitchen, then a small hallwayleads to the doors for the bedroom and bathroom at the back. It’s nothing glamorous but it’s mine.

My hand shakes slightly as I pick up my phone. This isn’t a good idea. Exes are exes for a reason. But he’ll get it. He will understand how it feels to be vulnerable and victimized because of something you can’t control. Pulling up the text thread with Sam that I haven’t opened in over a month, I start to type of a message.

Do I ask what he’s up to? If he’s available to talk? Shit, I’m overthinking it.

Swiftly, I type out a simple ‘hey.’ My thumb hovers over the send button, debating if I really want to open the door of communication with him again. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend. He was just … not enough. There was no spark I’d convinced myself at the time. It was silly really, our break up. Maybe I should have given him more of a chance.

A crash causes me to jump. I spin just in time to see my book fly across the room and hit the wall right behind me, barely missing my head. The text falls to the floor with a thump. The lamp I’d been sitting next to is knocked over. My heart is threatening to beat right out of my chest. My eyes scan the empty shadows desperately searching for anything to explain what just happened.

There’s nothing there. I take several deep calming breaths, relaxing my body and therefore my mind, just like my therapist taught me. In and out. In and out. It must be exhaustion. I’m exhausted and stressed and my mind is playing tricks on me. Sleep will help.

Cautiously, I bend to pick up my book. Satisfied when it doesn’t turn into a little monster and bite my hand off, I let out a long sigh. My shoulders relax. I right the fallen lamp before turning it off and head down the short hallway to my bedroom. Slipping off my robe, I hang it on the hook beside mybathroom entrance. The sight of my cozy bed calls to me, beckoning me into its warm embrace. I lay down my book and plug in my phone. It’s only then that I realize I never sent my text to Sam. My hand hovers over my phone for a moment before moving to pull back the covers to my bed.

Sliding in between the soft sheets, I'm immediately hit with a sense of contented relaxation. It’s been a really fucking long day. I’m ready to just close my eyes and fall into blissful nothingness.

But when I open my eyes, I’m back in the woods. The leaves rustle lightly in the breeze as shadows of branches dance across the ground. What the hell? I frantically spin, trying to make sense of what’s going on. It’s still dark out, the moon hangs high in the sky. I’m alone. It’s silent. Looking down, I notice my bare toes squishing in the mud. Sudden realization hits me. I’m not cold. I’m tired. Everything is too calm.

I must be dreaming.

When did I fall asleep? How much of this night has been real and how much has been a dream?

My mind is racing with a million thoughts. I’m so busy I don’t even notice the slow rolling shadows spinning around me.

“Hello again, my Little Nightmare.”

6

KALLUM

After I gave him damn near the best orgasm of his life without even touching his cock or ass, he had the audacity to consider texting his ex—Sam. I should stick my claws into his stomach and pull all of his entrails out, smile as he frantically realizes that his insides are now outside.

But murdering his ex might cause a strain in Christian’s and my budding relationship. And unfortunately, killing his ex might make him less likely to submit to all I have planned for us.

Bummer.