Reaching into my leathers, I pulled out my cock, stroking it in my hands.
A cry sounded before me, and when I looked up, Maddie’s hand was in front of her mouth and tears were pouring down her face. “Maddie…” I whispered, feeling my throat clog up at her green eyes filling with tears. I could feel her upset. I could fucking feel what I was doing to her.
But I couldn’t stop what had already started. I needed to get my leathers to the floor. He would get angry if my pants weren’t on the floor and he couldn’t take me. Because he always took me. Without fail.
Feeling him close in, I heard Maddie rush across the floor. I lifted my eyes, wanting her to stay, needing her to stay, to help block him out. But Maddie backed away toward the bathroom.
“Maddie… please…” I croaked as my hand reached for the blade on the floor and my hand worked my cock faster.
She shook her head, “I cannot… I cannot watch this again, Flame… I simply cannot…” She rushed into the bathroom and shut the door. Just as I hunched on the floor, he slammed inside me. And the pain came. In my mind the pain came, then on my body when the tip of my knife dragged across my thigh.
My hand pumped faster, as he slammed inside me, ripping my insides. I closed my eyes, hearing his voice with every thrust. “She left because of you.” Thrust. Pain. “She left and that cunt brother of yours screams because she’s gone.” Thrust. Pain. “Gone because she had a fucking evil retard as a son.” Thrust. Pain. “There’s poison and darkness in your corrupted soul.”
The blade dug further into my flesh as I heard his breathing change. His thrusts increased and I knew he was close. I stroked myself faster and faster, until with a slash of the steel on my skin and his low groan in my ear, I came on the floor. I trapped my roar of release behind gritted teeth. Then finally he let me go.
Dropping my blade, I fell to the floor, catching my breath. In the silence, I could hear my deep breathing. And I could see the blood and cum on the floor.
Then the nausea came. But it was worse this time, with the shame came embarrassment. I retched, turning my body just in time to get to the bucket on the floor beside the cellar door. And with every purge I kept my eyes on the door to the bathroom knowing Maddie was inside.
Lifting my head, stomach empty, I wiped at my blade gashes with the rag placed to the side of the bucket. But my gaze was still fixed on that bathroom door. Reaching down, I pulled up my leathers, and crawled on weak arms and legs to the closed door.
My heart hammered as I lifted my hand and pressed my palm to the door. “Maddie…” I whispered, her hand over her mouth and tears running down her cheeks replaying in my mind. There was no sound from the other side of the door. I wanted to go in, I wanted to tell her I was so sorry. But I didn’t know how.
Pulling back my hand, I dragged myself to my feet. I stood, looking out over the room. My eyes fell on the blood and cum dripping through the cracks of the hatch and I felt my stomach lurch again. Moving toward it, I picked up the rag beside the bucket and covered it. I couldn’t bear to look at it.
Then my stomach dropped again when I looked at the chair by the window, that Maddie had been sitting in. And I knew, I just knew when she came out of that bathroom, she would leave.
I knew she would leave. Because everyone left. No one ever wanted me for long.
My feet carried me forward to the chair. Maddie’s sweater was laid over the back. Taking it my hands, I lifted it to my nose and inhaled. And it smelled of her. Of strawberries, and… my Maddie.
Then on the chair, tucked in the side, was her sketchpad. I glanced to the bathroom but the door was still shut. Maddie was still inside. Probably still scared. Probably about to leave.
Reaching forward, feeling drained of all energy—something that happened every time he took me again in my mind—I took hold of the sketchpad and opened it at the first page.
My breath locked in my throat when I saw Maddie’s smiling face look up at me. Moving my finger, I ran it over the outline of her cheek. My hand was shaking as it moved over her hair, her long black hair hanging down her back.
“Maddie,” I whispered as my fingers ran over her lips.
I turned the page to see her walking outside, under the sun. Her hands were in the air like she could feel its warmth. Turning the page again, she was sitting with three girls, with her arms around one, head resting on her shoulder. I recognized Mae and Lilah, but not the third. Although she looked like Mae and Maddie. The same black hair. Maddie’s eyes were closed as she hugged her. And the girl was smiling, holding Maddie back.
Then when I turned another page, every muscle in my body tensed. It was… me, my face, my eyes looking up from the page.
Hands shaking, I quickly turned the next page, and what I saw dropped me to my knees. It was my hand, my hand wrapped in Maddie’s. I traced the outline of our joined fingers with my finger, then drew back my hand. I held it in the air and wondered what it would feel like holding Maddie’s. My eyes fell back to the picture and the lump thickened in my throat.
Finally, I turned the page one last time, and a pained moan slipped from my mouth. It was me, it was her, both standing. And I was holding her. My arms were wrapped around her waist. Her hand and cheek were on my chest. Our eyes were closed, but we looked… happy. Happy to be touched by each other.
Unable to look at that image anymore, I pulled the sketchpad to my chest just as the creaking of the bathroom door told me it had opened.
I snapped my head back, still clutching the sketchpad. Maddie’s eyes went wide when she saw what I was holding.