The Stranger Behind My Orgasm novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113: A MOUTHWATERING SIGHT

Abigail

The nightmares had been getting worse.

Two nights ago Annette had shaken me awake at three in the morning, her hands gripping my shoulders. I had woken swinging, gasping, certain that something, someone had their hands around my throat.

My parents’ killer. That man whose face I couldn’t remember.

It was the same now. The lights in the restaurant went down and the void fucking grabbed me. The floor swayed under my feet and suddenly I was back in that wrecked car fifteen years ago.

Cold metal pressed against my cheek. The smell of petrol was heavy in the air, the rain pouring harder only made the smell thicker.

I couldn’t see. My fingers pushed, hitting the window weakly, croaking, calling, but no one heard. No one was coming.

Help me.

I couldn’t breathe. My chest flexed painfully as I tried to gulp down air but I somehow felt so full of air, without having any.

"...can you hear me..."

A hand or something touched my face and I screamed. They wanted to choke me again, I just knew it. Mom and Dad were already dead. Cole was dead. I was next.

I was next.

"....Abby..."

I screamed harder, fighting the hands in the dark.

Let go of me! Don’t touch me.

The hands wrapped around my throat, choking, crushing my windpipe. My eyes rolled back in their sockets and the darkness began to swallow me when-

"Abigail, hey, hey, you’re safe,"

Lies, they were all lies. I would never be safe. Raymond Cole was dead.

You’re next.

"Hey, hey stop fighting me." The voice, deep and soft, washed over me and the grip around my neck loosened a bit. "You’re not there. You’re here, right here with me. I’ve got you,"

"H...help them," I croaked, pointing before me. I couldn’t see my parents but I knew they were there, bloodied, smashed and dead.

The hands around my neck were gone. The sounds of the rain drops hitting the car in heavy thuds disappeared as well as the car itself.

I was propped against something... no, someone. His chest heaved and fell against my head and with a sob my fingers latched onto his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of fabric, my entire body shaking as the world came into view.

The mat on the floor was cool under my knees. There were arms around me, a chest against my cheek, the warmth of his body wrapping around me.

"You’re alright." He soothed, stroking a hand downy back. "You’re alright."

I knew that voice. The tremors moved through me in waves, rising and falling. I couldn’t stop the tears, my fingers gripped his shirt hard because I was afraid that letting go meant the dark might come back and I couldn’t fucking stand it.

I’m bawling my eyes out like a six month old, what do you think lady?

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