17. Camryn

SEVENTEEN

CAMRYN

Time moves slowly. I've lost count of how many nurses have walked past while I stare blankly at the off-white wall across the hall. Even the muted sounds struggle to penetrate through this fog.

Lily has finally stopped crying beside me, and Gwen looks like she has aged a decade. I think we all have.

Seated beside me, Aron has his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His disheveled hair looks as though he has run his fingers through it to the point of pain. His bloodshot eyes are as distant as mine.

The doctor came by earlier to inform us that Brittany's surgery was a success and that she would be okay, but her hand…

I shudder, remembering the blood and minced flesh and Brittany's agonized screams?—

"You need to answer your fucking phone."

I'm not even surprised he's here. Of course, he is. He'll always find me.

I stare blankly at the crotch in front of me, at the thick bulge obscuring my view of the hospital wall.

Two fingers lift my chin. Dominic's dark eyes hook mine, his jaw clenching as he stares down at me with enough intensity to sink a ship and drown its crew. I expect him to reprimand me, but he stays silent, flexing his fingers on my jaw.

A nurse walks by behind him, the sound of her footsteps fading into the background— everything fades except for him. He's all I can focus on as the tears cascade down my cheeks.

I feel safe now that he's here.

Without a word, he pulls me into his embrace and wraps his big arms around me.

Clutching his T-shirt, I breathe him in.

Leather and citrus.

"I'm sorry." His voice rumbles like thunder, the softness in those words from his lips warming me from the inside out.

I bury my nose in his clothes and squeeze him tight, soothed by his steady heartbeat and rippling muscles beneath his creased T-shirt. "You came."

"Of course I fucking came." His large palm engulfs my head, and I feel so small and fragile in his embrace.

"You're not easy to find." He tangles his fingers in my hair and places a kiss on top of my head. "Answer your fucking phone when I call you."

We stiffen when a throat clears behind us.

Dominic turns us but doesn't release me, and we're met by a tired-looking nurse who tells us that Brittany is awake and asking to see us.

We sidle into the room, greeted by a strong antiseptic scent and the repetitive sound from the heart monitor. Hooked up to an IV line, Brittany stares out the window with an empty look. Dark circles frame her eyes and her matted pink hair hangs limp around her shoulders.

Gwen runs up to her and sits in the chair beside the bed while I stay rooted, unable to look away from her bandaged stump. Due to the damage caused to her hand, the doctors had no choice but to amputate.

It's all my fault.

I caused this.

Why am I here? I shouldn't be here.

Dominic puts his big hand on my shoulder and squeezes tight, as if he can hear my spiraling thoughts.

His lips brush up against the shell of my ear. "Talk to her."

The command in his gravelly voice dislodges my feet. I cross the room in a daze, vaguely aware of all the small details, like the blood pressure cuff around her arm and the smudged mascara beneath her eyes.

She looks at me, watching me closely with an expression I can't decipher. I almost turn and run, but Dominic's steady presence behind me stops me from fleeing the room.

"I'm sorry," I whisper when I'm beside her.

"Why are you sorry?"

My lip trembles, and I inhale a shaky breath. "This is all my fault. I got you into this mess?—"

"It's not your fault." Her throat jumps on a swallow, and then she looks out the window at the darkening clouds. "I sensed it …when it was inside me. Nothing can stop it."

Across from me, Gwen reaches out and squeezes her hand.

Brittany seems oblivious, lost in her thoughts. "Nothing can stop it." She bounces her vacant gaze between us all. "It won't stop."

"Shhh." Gwen tries to soothe her, but Brittany's chin trembles and her eyes fill with tears.

"Not until we're all dead. I saw it… Saw inside its mind."

"You saw what?" Gwen asks, and Brittany fixes her eyes on her.

She remains silent for a long moment. No one breathes. We wait, watching the tears trail down Brittany's pale cheeks.

Aron white knuckles the plastic railing by the foot of the bed, his head hanging low.

More tears fall as Brittany's lashes flutter. "I saw our deaths."

Dominic stiffens behind me. I peer past Brittany at Gwen, who resembles a ghost. Lily stares at Brittany's bandages. No one speaks.

When the blood pressure cuff inflates with a hiss, Dominic interlaces his fingers with mine, and I focus on the sensation of his calloused palm, his heat.

Brittany's croaky voice brings me back to the present. "It feeds on our fear and pain—our sanity, which sustains its existence on this plane. It needs us to grow stronger."

Aron lifts his head. "Why us? Why not someone else?"

"Because of the séance," I say quietly.

"There's no logic," Brittany continues. "This… thing isn't human. It's…ancient. It existed before the beginning of time and will exist long after."

"How did it enter our plane?" I ask.

Brittany turns those empty eyes on me. "It was called here a long time ago."

"The previous owners of my house were into the occult." I look at Gwen, swallowing roughly. "That's what you told me."

"Rumor has it the husband invoked the devil," she confirms with a shaky nod. "His family disappeared shortly afterward."

"They were never found," Aron grunts, his arms straining as he looks past us out the window, still gripping the railing like his life depends on it. "And the cops were quick to brush it under the carpet. Blamed their murders on the husband. They think the bodies are buried somewhere in the woods."

"There's nowhere to hide," Brittany says in a haunted, quivering voice. "No matter where we go or how far we travel, it will find us."

"But why?" The desperation in Aron's tone breaks my heart.

"It wants her." Brittany points at me.

Silence falls over the room.

"Why would it want me?" My voice cracks at the end. I look between everyone, trying and failing to plaster a fake smile on my lips. None of this makes sense. "I'm no one."

"Not true." Brittany shakes her head, and I drop my gaze, only to see blood seeping through the bandage, bright red against the white. "It brought you here."

"Brought me here? What do you mean?" I laugh, but it lacks humor. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. Remember the night of the crash?"

I can feel the blood drain from my face as Dominic turns to granite behind me.

"You saw someone in the road, didn't you? A vision."

"That wasn't?—"

"Everything that happened was designed to bring you here, to this town…and that house."

"Why me?" I breathe defeatedly.

"Because you got away."

I open my mouth to reply when the door opens, and Brittany's parents enter. Her eyes remain locked on mine as they fawn over her. When Dominic pulls on my hand, I reluctantly allow him to lead me out of the room.

"Because you got away."

I mull over the words in the truck on the way back to the house while watching the cornstalks pass by outside in a blur of yellow. My neck is sweaty, and strands of hair stick to my equally perspiring forehead. This summer never ends.

We pass Wilfred's farm, and I crane my neck when I spot his rusty Volvo parked beside the tractor. The bag of animal remains on the porch is gone.

Dominic's glare burns the side of my face as we turn down the dirt road that leads to our house, and then it's there, looming ahead of us like a grotesque abomination that rises through the earth.

A window is open upstairs, the white curtains dancing in the afternoon breeze. Mom's car is gone.

Dominic leaves the vehicle and slams the door shut, and then he's by my side, suffocating me with his overwhelming presence.

Reaching in, he unlatches my seatbelt, assaulting me with his intoxicating scent. It's unfair how nice he smells. I've never known anything like it.

I hold my breath, trying not to fall under his spell again.

One of my friends is dead. Another is in the hospital. I need to stay composed. I can't let Dominic feed on my sanity, too.

"Don't look at me like that," he orders, his lips so close to mine that his breath whispers across my mouth. Instead of straightening up, he hovers over me inside the truck.

"Like what?" I ask breathily, my clit tingling.

"Like you're going to run again. I don't fucking like it. Stop pushing me away." Braced on one arm, he tucks a damp strand of hair behind my ear and lets his fingers glide down the length of my jaw in a slow caress while his eyes flick between mine. "What's going on inside that head of yours?"

"My friends are dying. It wants me?—"

"It can't have you." He grits his jaw. "You're mine. No one hurts you but me." Then he backs out of the truck, grabs my arm, and hauls me out. I stumble behind Dominic, the sun heating my shoulders, tufts of dry grass tickling my bare ankles. His grip pinches my arm, but I like the bite of pain. Dominic is a force to be reckoned with.

As soon as we make it inside, he lifts me up as though I weigh nothing and guides my thighs around his waist. He carries me upstairs to his bedroom, kicks the door shut, and throws me on the bed. I bounce on the mattress, my heart hammering.

"You didn't answer your fucking messages." He flips me over onto my front, shoves down my shorts until they trap my ankles, then delivers a hard smack to my ass.

Shrieking, I wriggle, but he fists my hair and rains more blows on my behind while tears stream down my cheeks. It eggs him on more, if anything, because he reaches over to the bedside table and retrieves a string of rope.

"Dominic?" I question as he secures my wrists behind my back.

His response is another hard smack. "Shut up!"

He leaves me on the bed, pacing behind me like a caged tiger while my pussy leaks and my ass burns from his blows. I'm a frantic mess.

"You left me on read."

I know better than to answer. Know better than to anger him further. A part of me thinks I snuck out on purpose so that he would punish me like this.

I deserve it all.

Flipping me over onto my back, he removes my shorts, and then orders me to spread my legs as wide as I can.

I know he can see the damp patch on my panties and the drunk lust in my heavy eyes.

He bunches my panties and pulls, causing the fabric to strain against my throbbing clit, and my thighs tremble when pleasure zips through me. Then, with a sharp tug, he rips them clean off and stuffs my mouth.

"You've been a fucking brat by not telling me where you are and keeping secrets."

When he drops his almost black eyes to my exposed pussy, tears cling to my lashes as my chest heaves.

"I'm going to hurt you." There's no hesitation in his voice, only pure sadism. "I won't stop until you're a sobbing, dripping mess. I won't take it easy on you either."

Dominic grabs my knees with his warm, calloused hands and spreads me open, then grips the undersides and bends me in half until my knees are by my ears and my holes are on full display for his hungry eyes.

He lets one knee go but keeps the other firmly in place as he drags a single finger through my spread slit and circles my entrance once, blinding me with teasing pleasure.

Dipping a finger inside, he trails it between my ass cheeks and applies pressure to my puckered hole, tsking when I tense.

"You'll need to get used to me fucking all your holes. When you tense up, you make it much more tempting to break you in half." He delivers a hard smack to my pussy, and I cry out as sharp pain explodes like a wave that spreads outward. "That's one."

Another slap. Much harder this time.

My muffled scream fills the room. Before the pain begins to fade, he slaps my pussy again and again, raining blows on my bruised clit. I've never experienced anything like it before. The sensation is so intense, tears stream down my cheeks.

Screams erupt from my chest, yet the pain quickly bleeds into pleasure, balancing on a knife's edge.

Dominic rubs my assaulted clit, his touch bordering on torture, and I moan around the saturated panties, struggling to swallow the saliva in my mouth.

"Such a dirty little girl you are, Sis." His palm connects with my clit again in a hard slap, and I shriek. "Think you can sneak out on me, huh?" He thrusts three fingers inside me, pulling them out just as quickly. With a teasing grin, he spreads them wide, then chuckles as strings of creamy arousal stretch between his fingers.

"I think you like it a little too much." He licks them clean before pinching my clit.

I jolt, my pussy clenching.

He smacks me again, watching me sob and writhe. "You think your little devil friend is in here? Watching me play with your pussy? Think he likes what he sees?"

I moan, the sound muffled by my panties. I'm so close to coming that my body trembles.

"I think it's jealous." Dominic makes a show of slowly leaning down and dragging his tongue over my pussy, lapping at my swollen, bruised clit until I'm hovering closer to euphoria. "Your tight little pussy tastes divine." He drives his tongue inside me, and I come, but if I thought he was done, I was wrong. He tongue-fucks me through it as my body shudders, then rims my ass before biting the left cheek and licking up the coppery blood.

Straightening up, he braces his knees on the mattress and frees his dick, teasing me with the tip as he dips it inside my dripping pussy.

Then, without warning, he thrusts inside, making my body jolt on the bed. His warm fingers encircle the back of my knee, and he keeps me bent in half while he sets to town, fucking me so damn hard I struggle to breathe. He's ruthless, his balls smacking against my ass with every thrust. I come again, my pussy convulsing around his cock.

His lips spread in a cruel, dimpled smirk. "Your little cunt loves my dick, doesn't it? Feel how she strangles it."

He's a damn machine. A vicious, dark night that I'm hopelessly lost in.

He pulls out and spins me around, then grabs hold of the rope restraining my wrists as he fucks me into the mattress. With my ass in the air, his free hand in my hair, and his hips pistoning so roughly that the bedframe slams against the wall, I come for a third time.

"That's it, baby, know who owns you."

When I think I might pass out from pleasure, he pulls out, shifts me over onto my back, and kneels over me with his cock in his hand. His hair falls over his eyes and his lips part on a groan. Jacking his impressive cock, he stares down into my eyes, enrapturing me within his gaze.

"No one gets to see this erotic version of you but me. Understood?"

The veins pop in his forearm. His breathing is increasing. I know he's close, even before he chokes out, "Understood?"

I've barely had a chance to nod when his cum rains over my face and neck. I flinch, but he yanks me up my hair and aims the last few squirts at my mouth.

His semen trails a path down my chin as I blink up at him. He looks like a hedonistic monster who caught his prey. With panted breaths, his fingers pull on my hair until tears spring to my eyes.

He reaches out and removes my saturated panties before sinking his still-hard cock into my mouth and slowly, sensually fucking my lips.

It's sloppy, wet. Perfect.

"I will never let you go." His menacing undertones send shivers racing along my overheated skin. "You're mine."

I gaze up at him as he zips his dick away then reaches for my panties. With an intensity I feel in my bone marrow, he uses them to clean my face before helping me slip them back on and untying the ropes around my wrists.

The damp fabric feels cool against my burning pussy. He gently strokes his thumb over the material, watching intently as the soaked fabric creases beneath his touch. "I want you to wear my cum for the day. If you change into clean panties, I will punish you. And this time, I won't let you come."

He walks out and returns minutes later with a tray of food, ordering me to eat.

While I bite into a strawberry, he tracks my every move as though he can't will himself to look away in case he missed some vital information about me. Something he doesn't already know. As if it can be found in the small details.

My lips wrap around the berry, the sweet juice trailing onto my chin.

He reaches out and swipes it away with his thumb. "Why did you run away?"

I pause my chewing, my eyes clashing with his. He hovers his thumb on my chin and brushes it over my bottom lip.

"It's hard to breathe around you sometimes."

He likes that admission, if his small smirk is of any indication.

"I don't want you to breathe around me."

I bite into another strawberry, and his eyes darken until my toes curl.

"I'm sore," I explain. "I need a break from your…intensity."

"I can still fuck your mouth." His dimpled smile grows impossibly wide, blinding in its beauty. "Or your ass. Besides"—he removes the plate and crawls on top of me—"I'll have your pussy whether you're sore or not."

And then he proceeds to fuck me until I don't know my own name anymore.