35. Chapter 35
Justin
The half of the chocolate bar I managed to eat sits heavily in my stomach.
I feel like my body wants to throw it up, but it’s too tired to do so.
I’m too tired to do anything but sleep. Another nap sounds like a great idea, especially now that I have a blanket again.
I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I certainly won’t complain.
It’s so soft and warm, and I wrap it tightly around my shoulders.
That way I can pretend someone’s holding me.
Time passes as I drift in and out of sleep. My head feels like it’s filled with fluffy cotton, as soft as my blanket, and nothing matters. It’s nice.
I dream about Cameron. He comes back and talks to me.
I can’t quite understand his words, but I like the sound of his voice, even if he sounds worried.
I probably messed up again and he’s getting fed up with me, but he’s here now, and it’s nicer than having the blanket back. I wish I never had to wake up again.
Cameron reaches for me and his fingers are caked with dried blood.
I wonder if that’s a way for my subconscious to tell me he’s about to kill me.
I wouldn’t really mind, although I’d prefer it to be blood-free.
The sight of blood has always made me a little queasy.
Yet another reason my father saw me as a failure.
“Come here, Justin,” dream-Cameron says, curling his bloody fingers in a come hither motion.
I don’t know why I feel so tired even when I’m dreaming, but I want to make him smile, so I gather what energy I have left and crawl out of the cage.
Cold bites into my skin as I leave the protection of the blanket.
To my surprise, Cameron grabs it and wraps me in it, then pulls me into a tight hug.
There’s also a click and a brief pressure, then my cock is no longer being squeezed by the tight metal.
Yeah, this is definitely a dream. A great one, though. I never want it to end.
“Fuck, Justin.” Cameron sighs. “What can I do to fix this? I want you back.”
“You have me.” Doesn’t he see it? Dream-Cameron is silly. “You’re the one who keeps leaving.” I’d never say that to real Cameron, but I can be bold in a dream.
“You’re right. I fucked up. Let’s talk. Not here, though.”
Talking sounds exhausting, but Cameron is still holding me, so I snuggle into his side and let the dream continue.
He takes me through the door I spent so long watching.
My imagination sucks, because instead of something exciting, there’s just a mundane staircase on the other side.
Cameron practically pulls me up, my feet stumbling over the steps.
I try to help, but my legs don’t seem interested in cooperating.
Another door, and we’re in a spacious hallway.
It doesn’t look familiar, which is odd. I thought dreams were pieced together from things you’ve seen before.
Maybe I’ve seen this place in a movie. Or a documentary on how super rich folk live, because this place looks straight from the High&Mighty catalogue.
It’s huge and modern. One entire wall of the living room is made of glass, and behind it…
Sun.
My vision blurs with tears as I stare at the garden bathed in sunlight. I’m afraid to blink, scared that the dream will take me somewhere else or that I’ll wake up.
I never thought I’d see the sun again. I was so convinced of it I haven’t even dreamed about it. Cameron promised I wouldn’t leave that basement alive, and I believed him. My mind must be truly far gone to be dreaming up something so beautiful.
The lawn is perfectly manicured and dotted with an occasional bush or a flowerbed. The low sun casts long shadows across the lawn, the sky is an explosion of oranges and pinks. No clouds are in sight, and I even glimpse a lone star.
A few tears make their way down my cheeks when I’m finally forced to blink. Fortunately, the garden is still there when I open my eyes again. “It’s so beautiful.”
In a clumsy attempt to get closer, I trip over my blanket and only Cameron’s quick reflexes save me from crashing into a glass coffee table. Even in a dream, I’m a klutz.
“Careful there,” Cameron says. “It’s quite cold outside, but we can go there for a moment if you want.”
“Yes, please!” I should be able to dream up being warm, right?
Wrong. The chilly air slams into me the moment Cameron slides open the door and we step onto the patio.
I ignore my chattering teeth and rush forward, eager to feel the grass under my feet.
God, this all feels so real! I plop down on the ground and run my hands over the grass, marveling at how it tickles my palms.
The sun is clearly rising, because by the time Cameron throws a few more blankets over me, it has climbed a few inches above the wall surrounding the property.
I bring my knees to my chest and snuggle into the fluffy warmth dream-Cameron has bestowed on me.
One of the blankets is thick and a little itchy.
Maybe made of wool? My grandma had one like that, only older and itchier.
Another is definitely fleece, all soft and plush.
It’s insane how detailed this dream is. Almost like…
No, that’s crazy.
But what if it’s not?
“Is this a dream?” I find myself asking. Do I even want to know?
Cameron crouches in front of me. He’s put on a hoodie and sneakers, like he was cold too. Do dream characters get cold?
“Justin, this is not a dream,” he says seriously, his dark eyes boring into mine.
Not a dream. The grass is real. The sun… Oh my god, the sun warming my skin is real. But if it’s not a dream, then why am I outside? Cameron said I would never leave the basement alive, and he keeps his word, which means there’s only one reason for me to be here.
He’s about to kill me.
“Oh.”
Cameron cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?” God, he’s so handsome when he smiles. It’s not fair. “I thought you’d be a little more excited.”
The idea of being excited about my impending death should be ridiculous, and yet…
It’s really not. I’m too tired to be alive.
And I got to see the sun. That’s a bonus I didn’t expect.
To be honest, my only worry is how much it’s going to hurt.
Cameron likes his teasing, edging, and spanking, but he never struck me as a true sadist. Maybe he’ll make it quick. “Can you?” Oh, did I say that out loud?
“Can I what? Come on, Justin, focus. I’m here. You’re here. Talk to me.”
Right. I suppose I should articulate my last wish better. “Can you make it quick?”
Cameron frowns. “Quick? Oh, you must be cold. We can go back in—”
“No!” If I’m dying, I can get away with a little disrespect. “I want to see the sun when I die. I just… Will it hurt?”
“Will it…” Cameron trails off, staring at me. His jaw drops as his expression clears. “You think I brought you here to kill you?!” His face drains of color.
Now I’m the one confused. “You said I wouldn’t leave that basement alive.”
I must still be dreaming, because Cameron almost looks bashful. “Right. I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes, angling my face toward the rising sun. It doesn’t quite chase away the chill, but I still feel its strength. Now would be a good time. If I could just peacefully stop existing between one breath and another, it would be perfect.
Fingers gently skate along my cheek. I brace myself for pain, for it finally happening. Will Cameron snap my neck? Is that even a real thing or does that only happen in movies? He could choke me to death, too. Easily. Probably wouldn’t even need to use both hands.
Large, calloused hands cup my face. Neck snapping it is, then.
I will myself to relax. Perhaps it will hurt less that way.
I debate opening my eyes to get one last glimpse of Cameron, but what if he’s angry?
I don’t want the last thing I see to be his scowl.
Memories of his smiles are safer, and I keep them in front of my mind’s eye as I send a silent apology to my mother.
She’ll probably never know what happened to me.
Sorry, Mom. You weren’t the best mother in the world, but I know you loved me. Maybe my father did, too, in his own way.
I don’t want to think about my family. I much prefer the happy moments I spent with Cameron. Him holding me, stroking my hair, kissing me.
I smile at the phantom touch of his lips on mine, then obligingly open up for his tongue.
Wait. His tongue?
My eyes snap open as Cameron’s very real tongue slips into my mouth. He’s kissing me, and I can’t decide whether it’s perfect or plain cruel. Giving me a taste of what I might have had before killing me? Yeah, cruel. But still, going out with a kiss isn’t so bad.
Cameron pulls me into his lap, muttering something about the ground being too damn cold for this before bringing his mouth back to mine. Even through the layers of blankets, I feel the heat radiating off him. He sighs. “Justin…”
“Do it. It’s okay.”
He tilts my chin to make me look at him. I let myself get lost in the darkness of his eyes.
“Listen to me very carefully, Justin. Are you listening?” He waits for my nod. “Good. I. Am. Not. Going. To. Kill. You. Did you get that? I’m not going to kill you.”
I hear the words but my foggy mind has trouble understanding them. What’s happening? “Oh?” I finally say, because Cameron is waiting for a reaction.
He looks to be fighting off an eye roll. “Yes, oh. Now that that’s settled, we’re going back inside. I’d prefer to avoid frostbite on my ass.”
“But the sun—”
“Will still be here later. And tomorrow, and the day after that. I’ve heard that it has billions of years before it explodes.
Let’s go.” Cameron grunts as he pulls himself up to his feet with me still in his arms. Damn, he’s strong.
I’ve missed him holding me while we chilled on the couch.
I’m not ready to end this field trip and go back to the suffocating loneliness of the basement, but as usual, I don’t get a say.
Or do I?
Instead of dragging me back downstairs, Cameron sets me down on a comfortable sectional and takes a seat on the coffee table right across from me.
“Still with me, pet?” When I nod, increasingly confused by the situation, his expression turns serious. “Good. Now we talk.”