Page 13 of Come Back To Me
“Hello.” Each letter slowly rolls off my tongue.
Growing louder, the song continues to play. My throat tightens, and prickly sensations scatter through me as I slowly toss the covers to the side. Right as my hesitant steps reach the dark hall, the song skips. The part where he sings about staying forever with the other person replays over and over. It doesn’t stop until I reach the source of where the music’s coming from. Guiding the lever to the resting area, I hit the stop button and then shut it off.
The silence I’m left with is more eerie than the music. My eyes dart around the room, stopping once they reach the couch where I laid out Gareth’s clothes. They’re gone. Chest rising and falling heavily, I run my fingers over the bare cushions. Could it be? Did it work?
Soon.
The words from the recent nightmare echo in my ear. My heart feels like it’s sticking to my chest with every beat. “Gareth,” I whisper.
Music plays again. It’s the same song from before, the instruments pounding in my ears as if they’re right in the room with me.
“Dance with me,” I swear I hear someone say between low laughs.
My body twists, neck straining to look in several areas at once. I’m met with dark corners and empty chairs. Shadows move along the walls, and the song skips again at a different part this time—where the singer says he wishes he was inside the other person. It plays on a loop, and my head spins so fast my knees nearly buckle.
“Gareth, if you’re here, show yourself,” I yell.
I wait and wait. Then I fall back on the couch to wait some more as the repeating words bounce against the walls. No one is here but me. No one I can see at least.
“Something’s been following you,”I remember the Wiccan shop owner saying. Is he here now? Is this part of the process? He knew about the song. It was like he was speaking to me through it . . . or maybe Gareth was the one behind whatever was happening in this moment.
In my dream he felt so real. He was as beautiful as ever before . . . before turning into something horrific and wretched. “Gareth,” I say to no one, eyes dropping to my feet as I swallow the thickness in my throat.
I’m met with silence minutes later. No music. No voices in my head or whispers mixing with the wind outside. Only a loud, painful quiet that has me jumping from the couch to turn on the record again. It starts from the end, playing backwards and I step back, eyes widening.
“Someone’s here,” I say.
“Someone’s here,” a voice repeats and the music skips to random parts before shutting off again. With shallow breaths, I walk backwards and grab at my chest. Fear curls in my stomach, growing into a large heavy boulder. It weighs me down, making it hard for me to move when a cold gust of air goes through me. It was like a force crossed through one side of my body to reach the other.
My neck cranes and my gaze follows to where a small beam of light is streaming from. My room. Feeling as if a rope is wrapped around my chest and making it so I’m nearly being choked with each breath, I slowly approach the ajar door. I don’t remember closing it behind me. Not even a little. There’s no need to when you’re in a house all alone. Am I still here alone?
With a heavy hand on the door, it creaks open, and I breathe a sigh of relief when no one is anywhere my eyes land. The bed is empty. The lounge chair in the corner only has a pillow resting back on it. No one is in any of the corners. The water sprays against the tub, steam leaking through the open doorway of the bathroom.
I don’t go inside. Instead, I sit at the edge of the bed and watch a figure moving quickly through the small slit. It’s hard to make out who they are, or what they are, but something is definitely there. I’m not alone. I want to smile and be happy but there’s a plummeting sensation in my gut.
Something’s wrong about whatever is in the shower. He’s humming. The metal rings from the shower curtain screech against the rod, and all I can do is sit here. The song filling the quiet doesn’t sound familiar. Tapping joins in with the soft hums and my eyes zone in on where it’s all coming from.
When the water stops, I turn off the lamp and crawl under the covers the way I normally did when Gareth came home late. I close my eyes, pressing my face to the pillow and pretending to be asleep. A click of a light switch tells me he’s about to exit, thenthe door makes a noise as he opens it wider. He’s still humming. Drawers open and close. A cool breeze sweeps over my neck and arms when the blanket is lifted behind me.
Bed dipping, the room goes quiet again. All except for his and my breaths. His are steadier, and mine sound like they’re coming from a drowning man recently pulled from the water. A heavy hand rests on my hip, the feel of the person’s cold skin traveling through the thin material of my sleep pants.
“Hi, baby,” Gareth’s voice says but it comes out dreamlike. It’s almost as if I’m still sleeping. Eyes watering, I turn around and all I can make out in the dark is his silhouette and shining eyes.
Lifting my hand, I caress his cold cheek. His skin . . . it’s rough and he could use a shave. Other than that, nothing feels out of the ordinary. That’s not until my eyes adjust to the dark and the pair looking back at me is unrecognizable. His stare is hard and unblinking.
“Gareth,” I say.
His lips sweep over mine. He smells of his spicy soap and coconut shampoo. A tinge of dirt and other earthy scents roll off him. A tongue forces its way past my lips and I welcome the entrance, my heart tripping over itself.
His cool breaths skip along my tongue and dive in closer, his tongue plunging deeper for more. So greedy, his nails dig into my hip, and he slams his stiff cock against my cloth covered erection. He moves forward and back in a slow rhythm before stepping up his thrusts. “So warm,” he says before twisting his tongue around mine. His devouring mouth and thrashing cock send an electric shock through me. Tingles twirl along my spin and I arch my body toward his, our moans mixing.
“Need more warm.” His sharp nails cut at the material of my pants, ripping slashes at the side. He claws at them some more and they shred around my body. I look down, wishing I could see all the wet spots his slit leaves on my thigh. A nail slices downthe center of my lace panties, ripping large gashes while lightly slicing my skin.
I wince, breaths cutting at my throat from coming too quickly. “Wait.” My fists slam at his hard chest. “Gareth, wait.”
“Feels too good to wait.” His hips slam harder against mine, and he lines our cocks together, fingers tightening their grip with each pump of his hand.
My skin stings the more he presses to my fresh wound. His precum mixes with mine, feeling stickier than usual, and a sharp pain pricks at me as his nail tears at my flesh again. I don’t expect my pleasure to heighten with how bad I’m hurting. The ache dulls as our swollen heads brush together, and he tugs down the front of my shirt to suck one of my nipples into his mouth.
