The Face of Loves Rage Part 8
Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: More of Joels’ backstory is revealed: his first kill. Joel and Reader prep to leave Las Vegas.
Tags: DDDNE: THIS STORY CONTAINS SUBJECTS/THEMES THAT MAY MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME!
Mention of pregnancy, descriptions of blood and injuries, mention of a gun but it’s not used, DESCRIPTION OF MURDER, vague smut, swearing, fear and violence. Please lmk if I missed anything!
A/N: I wrote this while sick so please be kind <3 About halfway done with the series. How did that happen?? Please keep interacting if you enjoyed it!
You strolled down the side of the clothesline, unhooking each item and dropping it into the basket as you went, then walking back down and collecting the clothespins still hanging on the wire. The sun was beaming down on you as you walked up and plopped yourself down onto one of the porch chairs to fold the laundry, with just enough of a breeze every now and then to make the heat of the day less scorching.
It was getting harder to lean down now to scoop the clothes out of the basket to fold them, as every time you did, you became aware of the growing bump of your belly that prevented you from being able to lean down all the way. Just one of the many joys of carrying your husband's baby.
Just in time, you spot his truck rolling up the gravel driveway, finished from running his errands, so you stand up and walk down to greet him, like the good wife you are, wrapping your arms around each other in an embrace, and a peck on the lips, as you both turn to head into your shared home, stopping only momentarily to pick up the laundry basket, which Joel takes from you, setting on the dining room table, saying "you can worry about that later darlin'."
You smile, feeling the immense love your husband has for you. "Dinner's in the oven. I'm going to start on sides before the meat's done." you comment, walking into the kitchen and beginning to rifle through your cabinets that contain all of your baking ingredients. "What would you like for dessert?"
Joel comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, pressing his hard body to your back, his breath ghosting your neck, sending shivers up your spine. He just has a way of working you that's so simple, it's no wonder you're knocked up. "Can't I just have my gorgeous wife for dessert?"
You bite your lip and try to stifle a sigh, but he catches on. He always does. As his hands become freer, roaming over your body, touching wherever he can get his hands on, you close your eyes as pleasure takes over you. Goddamn pregnancy hormones. He has one hand grasping on your breast, kneading it, while the other moves to lift up the hem of your thin dress, all the while keeping his mouth to your neck, kissing, licking and biting.
His fingers trace down the slit of your panties, and you can tell he knows the effect he has on you by the deep groan he makes, gently moving them to the side to really feel you. "This all for me, baby?" He asks, voice over with lust, running his fingers through your wetness.
"Yes Joel, always for you" you reply breathily, your eyes fluttering open, hoping to catch a glimpse of your reflections in the window. What you see instead makes you gasp and nearly jump out of your skin.
All but pressing up against the window stands a woman, looking pale and lifeless, her matted dark brown hair sticking to her skin that looks to be covered in dried blood and bruises. You can see a few obvious wounds on her chest and upper arms, marks that look like large bug bites, two dots with only an inch of space between them, scattered on a cheek, down her neck and all over her upper body. You can also tell that her clothes look faded, like they were left in the sun for too long.
You let out a gasp and whimper as you try to move further back from the window, but Joels' body behind you stops you. His grip tightens around your body and his voice drops to that level that you are too familiar with.
"Isn't she pretty, baby? Huh? Don't you wanna be like her?" he asks, confusing you and making your chest tight as your heart races. "You can be, if you want. I can make it happen."
"I made her pretty, and I can make you pretty, too. Well, prettier."
You feel like your breath is being stolen from you as you keep your eyes on the woman staring back at you. She doesn't look angry, just... sad? You can't tell, until she presses one hand to the glass and opens her mouth to speak. Her wrist has a clear red ring around it, looking chaffed. You don't expect to be able to hear her at all through the glass, but suddenly her voice sounds like it's flowing right into your ear.
"Find us." She rasps, her voice sounding like she hasn't used her vocal cords in some time. "We're right here."
Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving, body covered in cooling sweat, as you sit upright in bed, looking around the room, trying to bring yourself back down to earth. You start to recognize your surroundings: the patterned bedsheet, the art on the walls, the balcony door. You're in your hotel room, still, while Joel's soft snores fill the air in the dark room.
Another nightmare. Great. You begin to wonder if you'll ever sleep normally again, but every time you try, it's always awful, vivid things that make you wish you'd never fallen asleep at all. But this one was different. You were in a house you'd never seen before, and that woman. She didn't look familiar, but maybe you'd just seen her in passing in the months that you'd been traveling with Joel. You bring a hand down to your stomach, feeling nothing, thankfully, but that didn't mean that there wouldn't be. Not with how Joel had been with you a few days ago. You clutch your cross necklace that you still wore after all this time and pray harder than you ever have that your period isn't late next month.
“Please sir! More- oh!- more!” She cries out beneath him, a moan caught in her throat, as Joel stands behind her, driving into her at a relentless pace.
“Keep beggin’ me, you dirty girl. Do you deserve this?” He brings the prod down to her back again, using his other hand to hold both her hands behind her back, wrists together, knowing that she just needed a few more shocks and she’d come undone like they both wanted.
Two taps on her back were all it took as she begged “Yes! I deserve this, sir, I deserve it! Give it to me please!” She begged as Joel felt her pussy clench around him, giving them both the release they needed.
“Yes, that’s it baby. Come on this dick.” He urged her, keeping his pace he had gotten her used to, and not a second later, she broke. White heat shot through her body as she came with a cry, her tight body clamping down on him, allowing him to cum following her. Both of their bodies fell together, his on top of hers, as they both caught their breaths. He finally pulled out of her, his new girl Laura, watching as his spend leaked out of her, making him smirk. He loved that part of all of this; seeing his mark, proof this is all real.
Coming in a close second was the little red marks that she got on her body when she asked for the electric poker. He knew how much it turned her on. Hell, he felt her squeeze him tighter when he did. The woman was a kinky little shit, always asking for more outlandish things. But did it bother him? Absolutely not.
Every new request she had, any different idea, Joel allowed it with open arms, because it got him hard to hear how badly she wanted to be hurt, by him, for him.
Wanted to be choked out in a headlock? Sure. Shocked with a cattle prod? He had the tools for it. Tied up? He was down. Some strange roleplay scenario? Oh, he was all about it. After he had been forced to leave Texas, he had gotten more adventurous. He knew what he liked and he was going to get it now.
But that was three weeks ago.
When he had first gotten settled in Tennessee, Joel had found a speakeasy hidden at one of the local dive bars around where he’d settled, and thought he might as well. That’s where he met Laura. At first glance, she was pretty. Tall, with nice legs. Long, brown hair. Fair skin with some noticeable freckles. She’s an attractive woman, and come to find out that wasn’t her first time around that part of town.
Laura had been through a bad breakup, and just so happened to be looking for a man, the complete opposite of her ex, to take her mind off of the whole thing. Enter: Joel, who was just that. Older, taller, deeper voice. His Texan accent definitely helped earn him points. So, he approached her, they got to talking, drank some whiskey over a game of darts, and they went home together.
It wasn’t until the second time they were going to hook up that she had to pause in the middle of them kissing to “confess”, as she’d put it, about her deviances. Just like that, Joel knew he had found someone like him, or so he thought.
Laura was pleasantly surprised that Joel still wanted to see her after that, so she fully took advantage of him wanting to try what she liked, and he was enthusiastic every time. So naturally, what do women do when they’re getting laid, well and often? Tell their friends.
And talk she did. Before Joel knew it, he was in the middle of two beautiful women, Laura and her friend, who just wanted to return the favor, and to get some of the action herself. Joel and Laura weren’t exclusive, so occasionally if he knew Laura wasn’t available, he’d call her friend to come over and sooth that ever present ache he had.
But Laura, she was his favorite, and she wouldn’t admit it to Joel, but even if he wouldn’t have been into the hardcore stuff she was, she probably still would’ve slept with him.
He was everything she wanted in a man. He was strong, kind, funny. He was older than she usually went for, but still attractive. He was way more competent than the guys her age, in more ways than one. Him being hung like a pornstar was just a plus.
Things were going smooth between the two, that was until she walked into the bar she hung around at, had met Joel at, only to see him talking up another woman. She left before he could see her or confront him. Instead, she waited until the next morning, adrenaline keeping her up all night, to drive herself down to his property.
When she arrived, it was barely daylight, and she was fuming mad. Yes, she knew that her and Joel weren’t really together, but it still hurt to see him talking to someone else. She banged on the door of his house until he opened it, revealing his half awake form, covered only by some sweats he had been sleeping in.
“We need to talk.” She told him.
He shut the door behind him as they moved to the porch, her sitting on the chair opposite him.
“That slut you were talking to last night. I saw you two, she was practically drooling all over you.” She hissed at him, crossing her arms over her chest.
He manages a chuckle in response. “Ain’t nobody here but me, sweetheart.” He stands up to move in front of her, his legs touching hers. “You’re a lil jealous, is that it?” He questions, bringing his hand down to cup her cheek.
But she’s having none of it. Laura pushes his hand off her, leaving Joel hanging, and a bit perturbed. Why was she acting like this now?
She went back and forth with him about her feelings about it all, until finally: “Maybe we should just stop seeing each other.”
That made Joel’s entire demeanor change. She wants to stop seeing him? But they worked so well together, how could she want to leave after some stupid misunderstanding?
“You really want to do this, baby?” He asks, trying to get her to reconsider or stop what she’s doing but she’s already on her way to her car, heading down off the porch.
He can’t let her leave. The thought of her being with another man who probably won’t even treat her half as good as him or know anything about what she really likes irks him, but the thought of her not wanting him anymore overwhelms that.
Laura’s almost to her car when Joel comes trailing behind her, snatching her back by the hair, yanking her head back, making her drop her keys and prying her off the door handle she had ahold of.
She let out a yelp, but it didn’t matter. He was far enough outside of town and had acres of land to himself that no one could hear her anyway. He begins to drag her by her hair, hand tight, as she tries to wiggle herself loose from his grip, but to no avail.
“Let go of me! Let me go!” She shouts, but he ignores her, Joel seeing nothing but red.
He makes it down to his barn, swinging open the door and shoving her to the ground inside, covered in hay and dirt. Her eyes were wide with fear and her breathing was elevated.
“Stay down!” He orders her, and she’s too scared to not listen.
He turns and grabs the spool of rope hanging on the wall, unwinding it as he walks to her. He stands over her, Laura’s eyes rimming with tears, and for a split second he contemplates what he’s about to do, but it’s too late. She won’t change her mind and he couldn’t guarantee she won’t blab to her friends or whoever she talks to, or worse, the cops. No, he had to do this.
He lunges down towards her, taking both arms in his hand and tying them together as she struggles more, flailing and trying to kick at him, which he quickly stops that with a swift backhand, forcing her back again, as he takes her legs and repeats the action. Now, with her tied there, he can walk over to the door of one of the pens and pluck one of the rags off the nail, bringing it back over and forcing it into her mouth as a makeshift gag. He didn’t want to hear her.
From there, it was easy for him, easier than it should have been for a first kill. He picked her up bridal style and brought her back to the car, plopping her down outside of it while he grabbed his supplies, putting them in the backseat, then Laura in the passenger side, retrieving her keys from where they were left on the ground.
He got in, started it up, and drove up to the far end of his property, right where a mouth to a lake ran. He parked a bit away from the start of a small hill that connects down to the lake, getting out of it. Taking his bottles of bleach he had grabbed, he opened them and splashed them all over the inside and outside of the car, not paying mind to Laura still being in the car.
From there, it was easy to put her into the drivers seat, slam her head into the steering wheel, effectively knocking her out, untying and ungagging her with her foot on the gas and making it look like she just drove right in. He watched, making sure that there were no more air bubbles as the car sunk down into the lake, before gathering the empty bottles of bleach and turning, walking back to his house.
Maybe now he could try and get a few extra hours of sleep. After all, he had a long morning.
It's been a week since he killed her. I have nightmares that start as dreams, but end with me waking up in a cold sweat or Joel will shake me awake because I was making noises in my sleep. Sometimes I try to avoid sleeping so I won't have to have them, but eventually I get so exhausted that I can't help it. Sometimes Joel will get concerned about me not sleeping and will insist that I lay down and try to rest, or he'll make me eat or drink something to make me feel better.
He once offered me one of his sleeping pills that he said he's carried with him for awhile in case his bones get too achey to fall asleep at night, but I don't want them. I don't want anything from him that might make me feel different, more than I already do. Maybe this is my penance for not saving Amber, for not telling anyone about Joel. For being too weak. For letting him corrupt me.
Deep down there’s still a part of me that wants to believe that Joel loves me. He’s said it often enough. I want to believe that he meant it at one point. But it scares me to think that maybe I still love him. God, I’m so messed up. But he definitely doesn’t hate me. I mean if he did, I wouldn’t be here right now. He could easily just leave me here and take off to wherever his heart desires. He could leave me like Amber. I feel evil thinking it, but a part of me really believes that if Joel hadn’t done what he did and he had just left her in the alley, that I was so angry at her that I would’ve hurt her too. I mean she kissed Joel, and probably wanted to do more. What kind of person is crying to me that he’s such a bad man, but just a month later, she’s all over him, giggling and talking to him like nothing happened? Maybe nothing did happened before that night. Maybe Joel really only did what he did to keep us together. I guess I won’t know. Maybe Joel wasn’t wrong when he said we're more similar that I thought.
Today's the day. Joel had decided this morning that we're leaving Las Vegas, so you've both spent the morning cleaning up yourselves and the room, packing away everything that you'd brought with you both, and decided for the both of you that you'd check out, pack the truck up and go out for a nice late lunch before leaving. You knew why he wanted to leave now, and a part of you knew even more that you would never come back to Vegas, so you might as well enjoy it while it lasts today.
But you had plans too. While Joel had been getting spruced up to leave in the bathroom, you had written a letter to your mom specifically. You had had plenty of time to think about a lot with not being able to sleep recently, and one of those things being what Joel had said to you.
"You know I'm the only one who cares about you."
Maybe he was right. I mean, it's not like anyone had tried to come look for you. But then again, no one knew where you went either. You thought of your mom, probably worried sick after the first few days of not seeing you, trying to convince your father that this was real, you left and no one knows where you were going. So, you made up your mind, something to determine if anyone was really out there looking for you, if anyone cared at all about you.
You had wrote your letter on a page in the back of your diary, signed it with your name, folded it and stuck it inside an envelope from the pack of them that had the hotels' name and address on the top left corner that you'd spotted sitting under the entertainment center that first week Joel had been out "running errands." Now you got a chance to use them.
You made quick work of it, only saying what you had to, to let her know you were alive, and where you were. If you knew where you were going, you'd have included that as well. You scrambled down to the main entrance and gave them a quarter to pay for a stamp, then made your way back up to the room, all before Joel was out of the shower, tucking the letter into the tight waistband of your shorts and under your top, hoping that Joel wouldn’t be able to tell.
And he didn’t seem to. Not after he came out of the bathroom with his hair combed and slightly slicked back, dressed in a dark green flannel shirt and dark washed jeans. He looked put together. It almost reminds you of how he looked when you first met, all those months ago, thinking he was the hottest man you’d met, the one you could trust and love.
Now looking at him, he just looked like he was disguising himself, trying to keep you thinking that he was harmless, just that handsome, rugged old man you fell in love with.
He didn’t even notice the letter tucked away as he wrapped his arms around your waist in a casual embrace, telling you that you looked so beautiful as always.
“Ready to go, baby?” He asks casually, taking your hand and leading you to the door, letting you each grab your suitcases, you having two now. A newer, nicer one that you’d picked up in one of the shops on the outskirts of the city per Joel: “You’re suitcase is gettin’ too full from all the spoilin’ I’m doin’ to ya. Have to get you a new one.”
You both take your things and ride down to the main level for the last time on the elevator, dropping the keys to the room at the front desk, then made your way to the parking garage to deposit your things, and you did. All but one, little thing.
If this was your last time being in a big city, with multiple people being able to see you at any point except for being in the hotel room, you were going to make the most of it. You didn’t know where Joel was taking you, or at this rate if you were ever allowed to go anywhere else again without him.
So, you wore your hair down, only brushed, to show the regular length and color of it. You didn’t wear much makeup other than some tinted chapstick and mascara so you weren’t hiding any of your freckles or scars on your face. You didn’t even wear heels, opting for flats instead, which you normally would insist on wearing as you liked how feminine they made you feel, but you weren’t concerned about that today. Right now, you wanted people who saw you and Joel together to be able to see how much bigger he is than you. If what you hoped was true, and your mother would receive your letter, and she would come looking for you, you wanted people to be able to recall seeing you and be as accurate as possible.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separated from Joel though. You of course knew what he was capable of and you had to admit that it deeply irked you, living with him. But you just felt a pull to him. Like if you told your mom about Joel, she wouldn’t want to know anything else about him after she knew how old he was, and that wasn’t fair. She’d want you to come back home, but you can’t do that either. Not with the ever looming threat of marrying some idiot man just because your father was angry with you and couldn’t believe you over him. You just wanted to let them know that you were ok. That you were still alive.
So you hoped that Joel couldn’t pick up on your extra observant stare as you looked around during the drive to the restaurant for a nearby mailbox you could hopefully sneak away from him long enough to drop your letter into.
It was a nice place, clearly intended to be for important occasions, like anniversaries or announcements. You felt underdressed compared to Joel and everyone around you but you’d found it hard to bother caring when you were so worried about the letter burning a hole through your body. And lucky you, just in front of the main entrance, there sat that beautiful blue metal box you’d needed, keeping it in mind.
You were seated at a round table, Two chairs across from each other, overlooking a large wall of windows that were one way; you could see outside but no one outside could see you. Joel ordered some red wine before the meal, which made you nauseous thinking about other red liquids you’d seen recently.
He must have picked up on this as he slid his hand across the table to rest over yours, making you pop your head up and look at him, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Don’t like the wine?” He asked you, his brows knitting together in what looked and sounded like concern.
“No, it…it’s good.” You replied with a weak smile.
He let out a soft sigh, rubbing his hand over yours, and his voice seemed to convey genuine care. “Don’t worry baby.” His voice dropped to a softer tone. “We won’t know for sure if it took for a few weeks now. Enjoy yourself.”
His eyes drift down towards your belly, reminding you of the way he had taken you last week. All heavy, demanding pulls on your body, lust driven and determined to get you pregnant. In your haze of the last week, you were able to temporarily forget about the possibility that even at his age, he could still leave a part of himself with you. He could still own you. It made you even more uneasy because…how did he know it was a couple weeks until your period? Had he kept track?
You took a reluctant sip of the wine as the main dishes came out, and you tried to focus on enjoying this meal while you had it. Hell, you had no idea how to make lobster mac and cheese or sushi, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had wine that wasn’t from communion.
Happy thoughts. Enjoy it while it lasts.
You both eat in relative silence, with only the occasional sound of metal on china from eating. The tension between you two could be cut with a knife. You wait until your meal is almost done, when there’s only half a bottle of wine and left and scraps on your plates before dabbing your napkin from your lap onto your mouth.
“I guess the wine really hit me.” You break the silence as Joel glances at you as you stand up from your seat. “I have to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry back.” He tells you flatly, less hopeful and more a command.
You rose up from your seat fully, cautiously, as you make your way down the hallway you saw when you walked in, conveniently, as you had hoped, right next to the entryway. You turn back quickly to see if Joel’s eyes are following you, but he seems to be distracted by his food. Good. Now’s your chance. You swerve from going down the hallway to the restroom to the door of the restaurant. You have to move quickly if you don’t want Joel to come looking for you.
You push the door open and walk with intention down to the end of the block near the parking lot where you had seen the mailbox initially, your flats tapping on the concrete sidewalk as you move. When you reach the mailbox, you carefully lift up your top to retrieve the letter, taking it out from your waistband where it, thankfully, still sat. With one last deep breath, hoping that this letter reaches where it’s supposed to and that the purpose of the letter is correct, that someone will come looking for you, that someone still cares, to give you hope, you slide the letter into the slot, dropping it in.
You feel a bit of relief and let out a sigh, knowing that it’s done, that your letter is safe and will be picked up, delivered within the week. A small weight has been lifted in the grand scheme of things. But apparently nothing good can last forever.
As you move to turn around and start walking back to the restaurant, you hear heavy footsteps approaching you quickly, then:
“Don’t. Move.” Hissed into your ear as Joel’s heavy body pressed behind you. You felt him move slightly and then the cold press of metal into your back, which you quickly recognized as the barrel of his gun. Your body turned stiff and tight and your blood ran cold. He found out. How did he know? Had he been watching you walk out? Then he had to have turned his head just after you walked out, unless he already knew about your plan. But you were so careful, or at least you thought.
“Start walking to the truck. Don’t try anything or I swear to God, I will use this on you, and I really don’t want to.” He growled into your ear as he nudged you forward, making you walk down towards the parking lot on the side of the building. Your heart was beating so fast, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Was this it? What would he do when he got you to the truck? Too many questions with uncertain answers ran through your head.
When you reached where the truck was parked, he walked you over to the passenger side, and forced your body up against the hot metal of the truck door, keeping you pressed there with his body and hands.
“What did you put in that mailbox?” he asks through gritted teeth, and you can feel the rage boiling in him through his clothes.
“Nothing. I-I just needed some air for a sec-“ his gun pressed in harder to your spine, making you flinch.
“Do you think I’m stupid, little girl? What. Did you put. In that mailbox?” he harshly punctuated each section of his words as he spoke.
You swallowed hard and gathered your courage. “A letter.” You squeaked, tears beginning to prick up in your eyes. “To my mom.”
A second of silence, and then, a deep chuckle from his chest. “Oh poor baby. You think anyone’s going to come for you? I already told you that I am the only one who gives a shit about you.” He eases the gun off just a bit. “If anyone cared about you, they would’ve tried to come looking for you months ago!”
You couldn’t help the tears that spilled from your eyes at his words, knowing that there had to be some truth to his words. If there was anyone who wanted to look for you, surely you would’ve heard something from someone. Did anyone bother to go to the police, worried about where you might’ve gone? The thoughts come fast and just make your heart sink more.
“Aww, are you scared?” He asks, mockingly, but lowers the gun completely now, but keeping you pressed to the truck with both hands now, one moving down to push some hair back out of your face. “I wouldn’t lie to you, baby. You don’t lie to people you love, and I am the only one who loves you, since we met. I hate to be so mean about it.”
Tears continued to stream down your face as he eased up off of you, putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around to face him.
“Listen to me, baby.” He says, voice softer now, giving you whiplash. “We’re leaving now. We’re going to go somewhere, just you and me.” His hand tightens on your chin. “But I am very angry with you. I’m starting to lose trust in you, honey, and that’s no good. So, on the way to where we’re going, you and I are going to discuss the way you’re going to make it up to me, work your way back into my good graces. M’kay?” he asks, staring into your eyes, absorbing all of the emotions that you had hidden behind them that you wouldn’t say to him.
You weakly nod, making him smile that smile, one that looked nice but felt insidious to you now. He opens the door for you, letting you plop yourself down and get adjusted, then he followed, doing the same, starting the truck and pulling out of the lot. By now, the sun was just beginning to dip down a bit, making it not quite dark out, but not fully lit either, the sky having that orange tint, offsetting the gut-wrenching feeling you now carry.
You drove in silence for what felt like hours, tension thick in the air, twiddling and pulling at the skin on your nails as you sat there, waiting for something, anything to happen, to answer how you were going to “get back in his good graces.”
Eventually, as the dark of night began to shadow over the terrain you’d been on for some time, Joel pulled over down off the side of the road into a gravel clearing, a small rest stop it looked like, which normally would make you feel all giddy, heat flooding your core at the thought of you and Joel making love in his backseat and then sleeping in the bed under the stars, no one around to interrupt, nothing but you two and the open land. But now, after what you know of him, being all alone out here makes you more nervous than anything. Anything could happen and no one would be around to see, to hear.
He turns the truck off, pocketing the keys, then turns to you slowly. “I’m only going to say this once, and you, my dear, are going to keep those pretty ears open and listen good.” You just nod, unsure of what he’ll say next.
“You remember Amber. You remember what I did with her?”
“Well, baby, I’ve done that before.”
His words shouldn’t surprise you, but somehow, they still do.
“You mean you’ve… killed someone before?” you ask quietly, not sure how far he’ll let you go.
“Many times.” He said plainly, almost like it was no big deal for him to say.
“How many?” You ask softly, voice shaky.
“The number isn’t important, sweet thing. What is important is what you and I are going to do.” He says confidently, taking your hand in his.
“What are we going to do?”
“Well baby, I’m sure it’s no surprise to you but… I’m gettin’ old.” He says with a chuckle. “And you…well you’re just a young thing, too good for a man like me. Any man your age would be lucky to have you. But you’re mine, my girl.” You let him keep talking, waiting to see where he’ll go with this.
“I can’t do a lot of the things that I used to, can’t move as fast as I used to, y’know?”
A lump in your throat forms as you begin to put the pieces together, slowly but surely.
“The urge never goes awa, baby, but you keep it at bay. But with you lying to me recently… I need to know that I can trust you.” He takes a pause, stroking his hand over yours. “So, you’re gonna help me with it.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“H-help you? Help you how?” You ask, heart pumping.
And there was that smile again, flashing his teeth to you that in only the glow of the moonlight made them look sharper than they are, like if he wanted to, he could tear a chunk out of you.
“You’re gonna bring ‘em to me.” You took a second to process what he said, heart sinking.
“I need you to show me that you can be trusted-“
“Please don’t make me do this.” You sobbed out, fully crying and hiccupping now.
He yanks you closer to him, jerking you over the center console, face to face with him now.
“Listen baby, I have to release it some way.” He tells you, like it’s something he can’t help. “It’s either you… or them. And I really don’t want to have to throw you away. You’re so perfect.” He tells you this like it’s supposed to comfort you, like you should be thankful that he loves you so much to give you this option, even if it’s anything but, a lose-lose.
Your face is now swollen from crying, feeling hopeless. You’ve fallen so far from how you were raised, what your values were, it makes you sick to the stomach.
“Don’t feel too bad, baby. I’ll let you pick ‘em. So if you feel guilty about it, bring me a bad girl.” He says, a poor attempt to comfort you by appealing to your humanity.
That night, you and Joel fell asleep in his truck, his arms wrapping you in a tight embrace, even in sleep, so you couldn’t get away even if you tried without waking him. Your face was dried with tears and snot and some drool from the little bit of sleep you only got from the exhaustion, finally letting yourself sleep. You hoped that when you woke up that you would find this is just another one of your nightmares.
D signifying Dispatch, C signifying Caller
D: 911, what’s your emergency?
C: I’m outside (REDACTED) and was having a smoke out by my car, and I saw a young woman and an older man walk out to, what I assume was, his truck. But she looked very uncomfortable, and it… It looked like he had maybe a gun to her back? I couldn’t see it clear enough, but she looked, just, not well.
D: Could you describe the man for me?
C: Well, I couldn’t really see him that well, but he was tall, taller than her for sure. Looked older, probably 40’s or 50’s. Looked like he had some muscle to him. The woman he was with was (REDACTED).
D: Ok. Did anything else happen?
C: He was getting physical with her, pushing her up against the truck. I could tell he was mad at her for something, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
D: Ok sir, where are they now?
C: He shoved her into the truck and they took off. Looked like they were heading East, towards the highway. They might be going out of town. They looked like they had some suitcases in the bed.
D: Ok. I’ll send some officers down that way.
Readers’ letter to her mom:
Dividers by @cursed-carmine
Taglist (Please let me know if you would like to be added/ taken off the list, no pressure :))
@plaidamoosette @katyispunk @cinnxmxngxrl @solistarrs @elli3williams @merakzq @flwersindecember2 @rhaenassance @thelastoftays @bemyluvr @dallianceangelx @cosmickid-inmotion @baronessvonglitter @aurorawritestoescape @old-logan-and-old-joels-slut @returnofdamack @ghostlyule @isabellaboo2025 @bbyviolakayworks @bbyviolakay @anheloamores @gothcsz @rosharanfiction @mcthsman @taniamiller @nativedoe
