Exorcist
The moment I walked through the door, the “Uriel high” died. My phone dinged in my pocket as I closed the door, but I couldn’t bring myself to look. My mind was already locking down, trying to prevent the inevitable slide into the past.
The lights were off, the silence heavy and judging.
Everything in this house reminded me of him: the chair where he used to lounge, the walls he’d bashed my head against, the floors I’d spent on my knees scrubbing my own blood out of the wood.
As I tiptoed past the kitchen, the sharp scent of bleach mixed with old grease.
The smell hit me like a physical blow. The hallway blurred, and reality and past collided.
I started up the stairs, my heart heavy, my hands trembling. I stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden memories, but still, I tried to remain in the present.
The mental cloud returned, hovering over my head. A light drizzle, a sign that I needed to get back to my room. With every step, the clouds darkened, and the rain came down harder. My chest ached, throat tightening.
Step. Amos’ laugh bounced off the walls.
Step. A phantom hand wrapped around my ankle.
I wasn’t in a safe stairway anymore. I was running from him. There was a sharp yank, followed by the loss of gravity. My face slammed into the wood as it rushed up to meet me. The broken Omega was screaming, her voice raw as she was dragged toward the basement.
I wheezed, my vision blurring. I scrambled the rest of the way, lunging toward my door.
My fingers fumbled with the lock, a frantic, metallic clicking until the door finally gave way.
I slammed it shut and collapsed against the wood, my lungs burning for air.
I slid down, wrapping my arms protectively around myself.
He wasn’t here anymore.
I dropped my head to my knees, trying to hide. I sobbed as he slid under the space in the door. His arms encasing me, his presence suffocating me, begging me to let go.
Fall.
Fall into the waters with me.
Drown.
With me.
His lips at my ear, his bruising grip on my hips, his hurtful words striking true. His words hissed in the shadows: You belong in the dark, Vera. Broken things don’t get to leave.
“Stop,” I sobbed into my knees. “Please, stop.”
My phone dinged.
I gasped, the past vanishing. I fumbled for the device, desperate for Uriel’s name. I needed the “Good Guy” to tell me I was safe.
It lit up, and my breath hitched at the name on the screen. The man who promised the dark, rough, overwhelming heat my trauma thrived on. Dane. Not Uriel. The name stared at me like a mirror. I felt seen. I sobbed, unlocking and opening his Snarl with trembling fingers.
Dane: Hey, Babygirl.
Dane: I’ve missed you.
Is it possible to love a man I’ve never met?
Definitely not.
I threw my head back and laughed. Knots.
I was going crazy. The first guy to call me baby girl and I was thinking I was in love.
I lowered my chin, staring at the screen.
Still, I was thankful. He got me to snap out of it.
This beautiful red flag saved me from my panic attack.
I took a deep breath, attempting to pull myself together before tapping out my response.
Me: Hi.
Dane: What have you been up to?
Me: I was out today. Went on a date.
Should I have lied? Maybe. Did I want to?
No. I wanted to be open with someone, needed to have a conversation where I didn’t have to think before I answered.
It was pathetic. I was pathetic. But I was holding onto this conversation like a lifeline.
The sudden rhythm of the three gray dots dancing on the screen broke my trance.
He was typing. The sight of it snatched the air from my lungs, dragging me back from the edge of my spiral and pinning me to the present.
Dane: And how’d that go?
Dane: Did you have a good time?
Me: It went.
Me: He was nice.
Dane: Nice, huh?
Me: Yeah lol
Dane: So he’s a nice guy?
Me: Yes. He’s very nice.
Dane: Mm.. I didn’t know you liked nice guys.
Me: Did I say I liked nice guys?
Dane: You didn’t say you didn’t.
Me: Lol
Dane: I’m glad you find this funny.
Me: Are you telling me you aren’t laughing?
Dane: No, Babygirl. I’m not laughing.
Me: It’s okay. I’ll laugh for the both of us.
Dane: Did you have a good time?
Me: Mm… I tried cheese curds for the first time.
Dane: Those aren’t very good for you.
Me: True, but they were delicious.
Dane: What did you eat?
Me: Eat?
Dane: Yes, Babygirl. What did you eat?
Me: I just told you.
Dane: …
Me: ??
Dane: Are you telling me you only ate cheese curds?
Me: That would be correct, Sarge.
Dane: I wish you could hear the growl that just rumbled through my chest.
My jaw dropped. I pursed my lips, inhaling deeply, and closing my eyes as the images of his tatted torso filled my mind. I swallowed hard, remembering the way sweat had trickled down his skin in that Snarl. I clenched my thighs together and dragged my tongue across my bottom lip.
How did he do it?
How did he make me forget everything else?
One second, the air was gone and the world was ending; the next, a feverish heat took over, leaving me ready to crawl on my hands and knees for him. I bit my lip, forcing out a brave response over the thumping of my heart before I could change my mind.
Me: I want to hear you growl.
Dane: Oh, yeah?
Me: Yeah.
Dane: Only good girls get what they want.
Me: Haven’t I been good?
Dane: You just told me you didn’t eat.
Me: Are you worried about me?
Dane: Yes.
Me: Because I didn’t eat?
Dane: Because you ate cheese curds. When was the last time you ate?
Me: Uh…
Dane: Seriously?
Me: I have a bad memory.
Dane: My palm is twitching.
Me: ??
Dane: ??
Me: Are you saying you want to…
Dane: Spank you? Yes. One hundred percent.
I squealed quietly, as if he could hear me if I were too loud. Everything about Dane was intense. Even when he was joking, he was intense. I was an abuse victim. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I like this? Why do I want this? This should scare me, but it doesn’t.
I’ve read enough dark romance books with werewolf daddies, mafia men, and Doms to know it isn’t scary. That it can be good if done with the right person. The image of being sprawled over his thigh sent wetness pooling between my legs. Slick—again, and just for him.
Yep.
I wasn’t scared.
I was turned the fuck on.
Dane: Have I lost you?
Me: No.
Dane: Does getting spanked scare you?
Me: Not when I imagine you doing it.
Dane: Have you been spanked before?
Me: No, but…
Dane: But?
Me: But I’ve been hit before.
Dane: …
Me: TMI. I know. I’m sorry.
Dane: Don’t do that.
Me: ?
Dane: Don’t apologize to me.
Me: Oh. Okay.
Dane: You didn’t do anything wrong. Is he still in your life?
I was struck by how odd his question was. No one ever asked that.
Me: No.
Dane: Good. I’m sorry that happened. You don’t have to worry about that with me.
Me: Okay.
Dane: So… you’ve never been spanked before.
Me: No lol
Dane: What did you imagine?
Me: What?
Dane: Scroll up. You said you weren’t scared when you imagined me spanking you.
Me: Yes…
Dane: So what did you imagine?
Me: You’re killing me.
Dane: Only a question. A simple one.
Dane: Tell me.
Me: I imagined you were sitting down.
Dane: Yes?
Me: Mm-hmm. I could see your forearms. You had me bent over your thigh.
Dane: Fuck.
Me: What?
Dane: You’re so good.
Me: What do you mean?
Dane: I can see you bent over my thigh too.
Deceased. I was dead at this point. It felt like I was having an out-of-body experience. He made me feel giddy. It was as if I were a teenager again. I had butterfly wings fluttering against the inside of my stomach, and my cheeks were warm. Ding! A new Snarl from him.
Dane: On your date with Mr. Nice Guy, did you fuck him?
Me: My jaw is on the floor.
Dane: Did you?
Me: No, but we messed around.
Dane: How was it?
Me: It… it was okay.
Dane: Just okay?
Me: Yes.
Dane: Are you being honest with me?
Me: Yes, Sarge.
Dane: Dane.
Me: What?
Dane: Right now. I need you to call me Dane.
Me: Yes, Dane. I’m being honest with you.
Dane: Did you make him cum?
Me: Yes.
Dane: Did you cum?
Me: I didn’t.
Dane: No?
Me: No.
Dane: Why not?
Me: I didn’t want to.
Dane: So you gave and got nothing in return?
Me: I pleased him. I drew pleasure from that.
Dane: I’m growling again.
Me: Are you?
Dane: Yes.
A smile pulled at both corners of my cheeks.
Me: Why? I’m smiling.
Dane: Because you’re a brat.
Me: Dane! ?? I’m appalled.
Dane: I’m sure you are.
Me: Are you rolling your eyes?
Dane: Maybe.
Me: Sounds like brat behavior to me.
Dane: lol
Me: Why are you growling again?
Dane: Because you’re drawing pleasure from giving pleasure.
Me: Is that bad?
Dane: No. It’s good. Very good.
Me: So why is it bad?
Dane: Because you’re drawing from the wrong man.
Me: Oh?
Dane: Yeah.
Me: And who’s the right man?
Dane: Gods, I can’t wait until I can see that smart mouth of yours in person.
Me: Don’t threaten me with a good time, Dane.
Dane: It’ll be a good time. I promise you that.
The three dots appeared and disappeared a few times before another Snarl hit my screen.
Dane: You are worthy of being pleased, too.
My smile dropped. How does he see me so well?
Me: What do you mean?
Dane: You deserve to have someone meet your needs.
Me: Oh.
Dane: Oh is right.
Dane: Now spread your legs for me.
Me: What?
Dane: You read that right.
I did as he said before writing him back.
Me: They’re spread.
Dane: They’re not unless I’ve got proof.
Dane: Spread those legs and send me a picture of what’s mine.
Me: Yours, huh?
Dane: Yes. Mine.