31. Veronica #2
Two hours later, I’m tossing and turning, still unable to fall asleep as worry eats at me from the inside.
I sit up, passing my fingers through my hair.
I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in this bed alone, when he’s out there, somewhere, doing God knows what. I don’t want to be alone anymore.
I flip the covers off my body and climb out of bed, walking to the door and out into the hall. I look toward Gabe’s room, then down the stairs. I know he doesn’t want us to sleep in the same room because of his nightmares, but right now, I don’t care.
The only place I want to be is in his arms. Because over the last few days, he’s been the only thing keeping me together when all I want to do is fall apart. He’s been my saving grace, my comfort, my happy place. And at this moment, I really need my happy place.
I need him.
I turn back to his room and walk over to the door.
I press my ear against it, listening in to see if he’s awake, but I don’t hear anything.
I slowly turn the knob and quietly step in, closing it softly behind me.
I stretch my hands out in front of me and tiptoe cautiously toward his bed.
It’s so dark that I can’t even see my hands before me, but I’ve been in this room so many times that I know the layout by heart.
Bending slightly, I move my hands around until I feel the comforter. I slide my hand up slowly, trying to determine where exactly Gabe is in the bed. My fingers collide with his arm, and I stop, waiting to see if the touch might wake him, but he doesn’t even stir.
I lift the cover slowly and sidle underneath it, then lie on my side, facing him, and close my eyes as I breathe in his scent. I can never put my finger down on what exactly he smells like, but it’s spicy with a hint of citrus, and I love it.
As if he can sense me near, he turns from his back to his side, his arm reaching over my body and pulling me into him. I curl up against his neck with a blissful smile resting on my lips as I fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart.
One that beats for me, the same way mine beats for him.
GAbrIEL
I gather the warm dish from the oven, carrying it over to the dining room table with pride. Looking down at the smoked salmon, roasted asparagus, and white rice with slices of lemon, I place it down on the center of the table and take note of the four place settings. Two on each side of the table.
When I look up, I find my mother and father sitting on the other side of the table, a disgusted look on their faces as they take in the dish. I stand straight, confused by their sudden presence in my home. “Mom?... Dad?... What are you doing here?”
Ronnie grabs my arm and forces me down in my seat beside her. Her beautiful rainbow hair perfectly styled with big curls. “Come on, Gabriel. Don’t be like that. Let’s enjoy a nice meal with your family,” she scolds me with warning eyes.
I don’t understand… Ronnie hates my parents, why would she want to have dinner with them? Why are they even here?
I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing the bile rising to my mouth back down, and nod. I can do this. I can sit through one meal with them, then send them on their merry way and never see them again.
“Aren’t you going to serve us, boy?” my father starts. “Or is that what your bitch is for?”
I clench my jaw, nostrils flaring as I glare at him, squeezing my fist around the butter knife that rests beside my plate. “Don’t call her that!” I bark.
He laughs in my face as if this is some kind of joke.
“I’ll call her whatever the hell I want.
” He smiles ominously at me, then turns his beady eyes on her.
“She is a pretty bitch. I understand why you’re so protective of her.
” He licks his lips with hunger in his eyes.
“I wonder what she tastes like, what she feels like.”
Anger bursts through my veins as I try to stand from my chair. But I can’t move, I’m glued to my seat, gravity placing all its weight on me. “SHUT UP!” I spit at him with rage.
My mother snickers at his side and leans in toward my father. “I hear he likes to share her with his best friend. I wonder if he’d share her with you.” She runs her dirty yellowish nails up his arm. “I’d love to watch our son cry while you fuck his girlfriend.”
I try to move again, the chair rattling in place, but nothing happens. I bang my fists against the table with frustration. “NO! Don’t you fucking dare! She’s not yours! She’s not yours!”
My father chuckles. Ignoring my threats, he lifts his hand and beckons Ronnie over to him with a finger. “Come here, cunt. Let me see what this boy is so obsessed with.”
I turn my head toward my girl and find her smiling back at my father with a flirty gaze. She twirls a strand of hair around her manicured finger, then pushes out of her chair and stands.
No, this isn’t Ronnie. She would never do this. She would never.
I try to stop her, try to grab her wrist, but I can’t let go of the knife in my hand. I can’t move. “No, baby, please. Please don’t go. Please don’t do this!” I plead with her, but she doesn’t listen.
She walks around the table and stands by my father’s side. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. You know how much I love having another dick inside of me. Why do you think I always want Noah with us?” She smiles sweetly at me.
This isn’t her. This isn’t my girl, my Vixen. She wouldn’t do this to me.
I feel the tears running down my face, my body rocking from side to side as I try to jump out of my chair. Try to stop this from happening.
My father’s bony hand touches her knee first, then trails up her thigh until it disappears under her skirt. She moans loudly once his fingers make contact, leaning in, hand falling on his shoulder as she uses him for support.
“NO! NO, NO, NO! PLEASE, STOP! PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU!” I shout at the top of my lungs, devastation in my voice. “Please don’t touch her! I’ll do anything! Stop, please!” I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest as I watch them, unable to tear my eyes from the horrid sight.
Oh God, I’m going to be sick!
My mother throws her head back, laughing hysterically while pressing her hand to her chest. “Look at him, he was always such a pussy, crying over everything.”
My father chuckles along with her, then refocuses his attention on Ronnie, who grinds down on his fingers. “That’s it, bitch. Rock that greedy pussy against my hand.”
Ronnie suddenly cries out as she orgasms with my father’s help. I watch in horror as her juices flow down her beautifully tanned thighs before she smiles down at him. “You do it so much better than him,” she whispers, then leans in, pressing her lips against his.
And I snap.
I fly out of my chair as it clatters to the ground behind me. The knife hits my plate with a clanking sound, right before I throw myself above my father. My hands circle his neck as I watch the life drain from his eyes.