Page 145 of Broken by my Bully
“Collect me where?”
Bastian’s impatient sigh sounds like a retro teakettle. “Just…go sleep it off.” With a flick of his hand, he dismisses me. “Go on. And drink lots of water.”
“Sleep. Water.” I head for his house, sticking my thumb up into the air without looking back. “Gotcha.”
“Guess I’ll do this myself then,” I hear him mumble as I slip back into his house.
But I’m entirely focused on getting into his warm, soft, silky bed. I make two detours though. The first, to fetch a big glass offilteredwater from the kitchen. And the second, to pluck a t-shirt from his closet.
The water goes on the nightstand, the t-shirt goes over my head. A second later, my bra is on the floor, and my ass is under the sheets.
I don’t remember falling asleep.
“Haven!” a voice whisper-shouts urgently.
My grainy eyes reluctantly open to slits. I stare at the dark, foreign ceiling, trying to figure out if the voice I heard was part of a dream, or someone actually calling my name.
Oh, fuck. Someone’s inside here with me.
My eyes are barely cracked open. Eyelashes fluttering. Bastian’s room is dark, like a storm slid over the house while I was sleeping. I can’t open my eyes any wider. I’m too groggy.
“Haven.”
I try to move my head, but I can’t. I’m on my back, spreadeagled,but all I can move are my eyes. They flicker left, right, then forward, looking toward the foot of the bed.
To where the voice came from.
The top of someone’s head slowly bobs up from the shadows at the foot of the bed. A balding scalp, a few licks of pale hair standing this way and that.
No. No!
Jesus, no, this isn’t fucking happening!
My heart is thundering inside my chest, every muscle on my body clenching in terror. I can’t breathe, can’t scream.
Can’t. Fucking. Look. Away.
Uncle Lenny lifts his head until his manic, blood-shot blue eyes lock with mine. I mentally will him to vanish, will him not to rise further so I don’t have to look at his chapped lips, or the diseased, nearly toothless mouth beyond.
I still can’t move.
Fear and panic swirl together, making me feel dizzy despite lying on my back. I’m trapped in my body, forced to stare through slitted eyes at the demon huddled at the foot of the bed.
Waiting in terror for him to climb onto the mattress.
My throat vibrates as I try to scream, but barely a whimper escapes.
Help! Help! Bastian, please, please, Bastian! Help!
My body unlocks just as I manage a harrowing moan. I sit up with an awful gasp, grabbing my legs and dragging them close, trying to get them away from the hands I knew were seconds away from latching on.
But there’s no one at the foot of the bed.
I throw my head to the side, scanning Bastian’s gloomy bedroom.
Empty.
It was just a nightmare.
