Page 41 of Baked

“Please. Please, don’t hurt me.” A hand gripped my face, forcing my mouth open as someone breathed a mouthful of weed into mine. I coughed on the smoke, struggling to breathe as he dropped my chin and released me. “Please,” I cried out, unsure of where he was. “Don’t hurt us. Mary-Jane and my brother—they have nothing to do with this! Just let them go, please! I’ll do anything. Anything!”

“Anything?” His low grumbled voice sounded familiar, but I was too emotional to really place it. His hand reached around my body, pulling my shirt. Something cold touched my skin, and I jolted with a loud gasp, knowing what it was. “Don’t move,” he whispered harshly.

The knife slid carefully across my body as he used it to cut my clothes. I flinched with each yank, hearing the fabric of my shirt shred and tear from the harsh cuts, leaving tiny slivers and my body exposed. “Please,” I cried, almost certain I knew what he was going to do. “Don’t do this.”

“You saidanything.” Before I could even react or process his words, his hand slid carefully down my chest, touching my breasts and bare skin before eventually reaching my pussy. He began to message me, my body strangely reacting as I arched back into the chair, pulling against the restraints across my wrists and ankles, trying to break free until it hurt. My mouth opened wide to scream, but he grabbed it with his free hand and shoved something inside. Not something. A brownie. He was forcing one of Haze’s brownies deep into my mouth. I nearly gagged on it, the icing dripping down my chin and onto mychest. “Shhhhh.” He blew another cloud of smoke into my face and began to finger me. I reluctantly breathed the earthy stank in while he moved deeper inside me. My body twitched and rolled. I tried to fight it—to fight him—but it was useless. It was like my brain was saying one thing, but my body was feeling the opposite. “Stop resisting, little sis.”

My entire body fell rigid and my blood ran ice cold at his words. The person who tied me up wasn’t my stalker. It was Haze. My brother.

I forcefully swallowed as much brownie as I could and spoke. “H-haze?” My lip quivered as I said his name.

Breathing hit my ear as he continued. “You know I would never hurt you.” He kissed the side of my neck, moaning faintly into my ear as he kept fingering me. “Not like Carter.”

“Stop this. Please,” I begged.

I tried not to like it, squeezing my thighs together, but it only seemed to excite him more. “Stop fighting me. We both know you want this. You’ve always wanted this. Ever since that fateful night we spent together in the attic of your sorority home.” My body began to tighten at the memory.

All this time, I pretended like I had no memory of that night, but it was a lie. I remembered everything. And the recollection of the things we did haunted me. I tried so hard to forget, sickened by how much I liked it. How much I dreamt of it even before that night. Being with Haze had been my fantasy for so long. The immense craving and curiosity for him rose when we were teens, and only grew over time. I always tried to hide it, to pretend it was just a phase. But it wasn’t. And instead of allowing myself to give into the twisted and dark nature of my sexual desires, I denied myself. I thought if I pretended it never happened, slept with other guys and moved on with my life, that I could forget. But I couldn’t. And now, it had all boiled to the surface.

“Haze,” I moaned as he moved faster. I tried to resist, but something about all of this broke me. And just like that, I began to come. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” I cried out. My body arched, pulling against the restraints while I rocked into his palm and ground against the chair, moaning and crying out. I completely lost myself and even smiled, my wetness completely soaking him. He slowly pulled his fingers from my body, making me jolt in absolute ecstasy.

My heart raced and felt like it was trying to jump from my chest, my breathing just as erratic. I almost felt dizzy and lightheaded, whether it was from the drugs, booze, or orgasm, I didn’t know. But I didn’t care.

What have I done?

The all too familiar sick feeling of regret and disgust with myself began to settle over me, and I lowered my head in defeat. Haze lifted my chin softly. “Don’t do that,” he growled. “Don’t apologize for being true to yourself. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Yes, I did. This was wrong. All of it. But I liked it.

Tears fell down my face. “What is wrong with me, Haze?” I sniffled. “What is wrong with us? Why are we like this?”

His hand dropped my chin carefully, and he untied the blindfold, dropping the red material at my tied feet. My eyes burned as I slowly raised them to look at him, crouched in front of me. He was smoking, looking at me with such caring green eyes. My eyes. He blew a cloud of smoke into my face before speaking. “You never did forget, did you?” I reluctantly shook my head.

“I knew it,” he grunted.

Haze stood and walked past me when I saw her. My face burned as her bloodshot eyes stared up at me. Mary-Jane was bound much like myself, but instead on the floor. Haze must’ve done this to us both when he knocked me out before.

“Mary-Jane,” I sobbed. I realized what she must’ve just seen and felt so much shame. “I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I’m so sorry!”

Haze walked back, this time with a large knife. We both looked at him as he approached Mary-Jane. She screamed and cried, muffled by the duct tape around her mouth as she wriggled like a worm. “You did this to yourself, Mary-Jane!” he shouted at her.

“Haze. Haze, don’t!” He looked over his shoulder back at me. “You don’t need to do that. You don’t need to hurt her!”

The corner of his mouth curled. “Yes I do, Indi. She knows too much. And this bitch is too stupid to keep her mouth shut.” He turned back to Mary-Jane, crouching next to her. “I tried to give her a chance, but all she wanted to do was take you away from me. Just like Carter.” He picked a strand of her hair up in disgust. “I never did like your fucking red hair.” Haze used the knife to cut the strand.

“Carter?”

Haze straddled Mary-Jane and picked another strand of her hair up, cutting it roughly with the knife as she cried hysterically.

“Haze—” He glanced at me. “What do you mean ‘like Carter’?” His face darkened with a devious smile. “What did you do?” He dropped Mary-Jane’s hair and put the knife to her throat. “Haze, stop!”

“No! Don’t you see? I have to do this! Not just for me, but for you, too. For us. Carter, Mary-Jane, even your ex boyfriend’s, they’re all in the way. All of them! You don’t need anyone else but me, Indi. Me!”

“Haze.” I don’t know what scared me more. His violence or his devotion to me.

He shook his head. “You want to know what happened to Carter?” He grinned. “I made him my bitch and taught that frat boy a fucking lesson. I made sure my face was the last thing he saw. No one touches my sister!”

Oh my god. My stalker didn’t kill Carter. Haze did. It was him all along. Haze was the man in the mask, the one who was following me. Watching me. It was always him.And deep down, it was like I always knew.

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