21. Gage
21
Iflip Aurora over, ready to lose myself in her tight heat again, but my blood runs cold when I see her eyes are closed. Fuck, is she breathing? Shit, shit, shit. Did I fucking kill her?
A wave of nausea hits me like a sledgehammer as I put my hand over her mouth and find she’s not breathing. Fuck, no, this can’t be happening. Not like this. Not with her.
I start chest compressions, my hands shaking as I try to remember the steps. I pinch Aurora’s nose and breathe into her mouth, watching her chest rise and fall as I do. Come on, little one. Don’t you fucking die on me!
I continue the cycle, compressions, and breaths, my vision blurring with unshed tears. The pain in my chest is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like a part of me is dying with her.
Suddenly, I feel her chest rise and fall. I freeze, hardly daring to breathe while I watch her chest. Sure enough, it rises and falls. She’s breathing. Relief crashes over me like a tidal wave, and I gather her into my arms, cradling her against my chest.
I brush the hair back from her face, my fingers trembling as I trace the delicate curve of her cheek. I’ve never felt a fear like that before. The thought of losing her, of being the one responsible for snuffing out her light... it’s unbearable.
I carry Aurora back to the cabin, her limp body cradled against my chest. The weight of what just happened presses down on me, threatening to crush me under its immensity. I told her she was playing with a monster, that I wasn’t mentally stable enough to fuck the way she wanted. It’s too dangerous for her. And now, I’ve proven that point in the most terrifying way possible.
I lay her gently on the bed I set up for tonight. My hands shake as I brush a strand of hair from her face. She looks so peaceful, so innocent. But I know the truth. Aurora is just as bent and broken as I am. That’s why she wanted to role-play rape fantasy, to give in to our basest desires without fear or restraint.
I sit beside her, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. The relief I feel is overwhelming but tinged with a sickening guilt. I almost killed her. The one person who understands and accepts me for the monster I am. And I nearly snuffed out her life with my own hands.
I bury my face in my hands, my shoulders shaking. There’s no way I can do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending I’m not dangerous to everyone around me, especially Aurora. She deserves better than this, better than me.
But even as I think those words, the monster within is too selfish to let her go. I need her like I need air. She’s the only one who chases away the darkness that threatens to consume me.
I lay beside her, pulling her into my arms and burying my face in her hair, breathing in her scent. I’ll do better, I promise myself. I’ll be the man she deserves, even if it kills me. Because a life without Aurora is no life at all.
I hold Aurora close, the guilt and shame weighing heavily on my heart. As I brush the hair from her face, I can’t help but wonder what darkness she has endured in her own life.
My mind drifts back to the demons of my past—the beatings from my step-father after my mother died when I was just a child. The pain and terror of the rapes I suffered at his hands until the day I finally snapped and ended his life. I was only twelve years old, but at that moment, I became a killer.
That day was the catalyst that sent me fleeing from my childhood home, desperate to escape the horrors that had consumed my life. I found solace in the carnival, burying my past beneath the anonymity of the mask I wear. But the darkness never truly left me.
I wonder if Aurora has faced similar demons and if the craving for danger that consumes her is rooted in her own trauma. The thought fills me with a strange empathy, a connection to this woman who captivated me.
My grip tightens around her unconscious form, and I bury my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. I need to know more about her to understand the depths of her own pain and the shadows that haunt her.
As I hold her, I’m struck by her vulnerability. She’s entrusted herself to me, placed her life in my hands, and I nearly snuffed it out. The realization makes me sick to my stomach. I’m no better than the monster who tormented me as a child.
I gently kiss her forehead, whispering a silent promise to protect her, to be the man she deserves. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if it means walking away from her for good. Her life is far too precious to risk.
With a heavy heart, I carefully gather Aurora into my arms and carry her out of the cabin, determined to see her safely home. The journey is silent. I can’t bear to wake her, to face the fear and disappointment I know I’ll see in her eyes.
As I reach her apartment, I gently lay her on the bed, tucking her under the covers. I linger for a moment, memorizing the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes flutter against her cheeks. Then, with a heavy sigh, I turn and slip back into the shadows, leaving her behind with nothing but a note.