They Call Me Teddy: (Enemies to Lovers Horror Romance)

by Ella Burns

  An involuntary sound leaves my lips as he squeezes, and I instinctively kick a foot out. He shifts his body and I miss. My heartbeat picks up in earnest. Something about the look on his face….

  “Bud, fuck off and let me go,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice even as I pull at my wrist. I let out a cry as he reaches out and grabs my other, leaning his face into mine. His breath is rotten, and I gag a bit as he gets close.

  “Little bitch,” he mutters, “Bet you’ve been laughing for fucking years at how you treat me. Well, Jane ain’t here to help you this time.”

  My eyes widen, but I don’t have time to react further before he releases my wrist long enough to smack my head hard enough that blackness dots my vision. Something else hits my head. The dizziness grows and the hits don’t stop. A real stab of fear hits me when he flips me around to my stomach, pushing up my little dress. A groan leaves my lips as I try to turn myself, my eyes clouding from the weight of his punches.

  The sound of a buckle behind me brings tears to my eyes.

  For all the fun I’ve had with my toys over the years, I heeded Jane’s request. I’m still a virgin.

  Not like this.

  I hear a choked sound behind me. I try to turn my head, and through fuzzy eyes, I think I see a silhouette in the doorway.

  “Branson,” my voice comes out raspy.

  Chapter Six

  Branson

  When I walk into the workroom to see Teddy with her ass up, Bud behind her, I freeze. My entire body feels cold at first. A hot tingle of anger forms from my middle as my chest heaves. Bud doesn’t turn around, fumbling with his belt buckle, but Teddy turns her head slightly, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, tears rushing down her face.

  “Branson.”

  I see the shape of her mouth form my name, though I can’t hear her.

  Something inside me cracks. I feel something I never have before.

  Desire. To hurt. To be the cause of pain.

  White-hot rage builds. Years of fury and anger, of love, bubble over. My fingers twitch, curling up into a fist. The corner of my lip turns up, but it’s no smile. The submission all but flows out of me and I turn my head, cracking my neck.

  For once, I’m not holding back from what I want.

  The sound that leaves my throat as I rush forward is guttural and raw. I don’t even realize I’ve grabbed an iron bar from beside the door until it comes down on Bud. A resounding crack echoes in the room and he falters. I absently note Teddy scrambling from underneath him, but I have attention only for this.

  Bud turns to look up at me, his shock turning to anger when he realizes it's me.

  “You little slave piece of sh—”

  I bring the iron down again on his arm as he tries to stand. His scream is music to my ears as I feel the bone snap beneath the weight. He cradles his arms to his chest as I pace in front of him. Sweat pours down my back and face, and I feel the corner of my mouth turn up further as tears pour down his face.

  “Your tears are even sweeter than your blood,” Teddy once said to me.

  My mouth forms a grin as I look down on Bud. She was right.

  “Beg for me, Bud,” I say, flicking the iron bar out and smacking it against his side. He squeaks and I laugh.

  “P-plea—”

  My arm is coming down before he can finish the word.

  I feel his bulbous nose crack and relish the gush of blood.

  “Beg for me like I begged you for years.”

  My arm comes down again and he cries out, his sobs the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

  He tries to drag his body, but there’s nowhere to go. Teddy is crouched on the table behind me, looking down at us, but I ignore her and bring the iron down again across his back.

  Snap.

  Again, and again, and again.

  Blood splatters against my face and chest, into my open mouth, but I don’t stop. Even when he ceases moving. The sound the iron makes as it strikes is wet and hard as his head is ground into the floor.

  I hit one more time before standing and dropping the bloody iron at my side.

  My chest heaves, adrenaline coursing through me like I’ve never felt before. My skin crackles and tingles as though alive for the first time. Is this what I’ve been missing?

  I look towards the metal table and finally notice the dead whore on it and am surprised to feel a pang of regret she’s already gone.

  A small noise has me snapping my head up. Teddy’s big green eyes are wide with shock, her mouth a perfect O as she pants lightly. I make no move, just watch her with a predatory gaze. She licks her lips, and a smile crosses her face.

  Her voice is breathless as she gets off the table and moves closer to me. I feel my dick jump and my teeth clench. When she reaches out and her hand touches my chest, I move fast. I grip her wrist tightly, pushing her back until she hits the wall. My other hand comes up and around her neck, squeezing.

  “You,” I growl at her. “You fucking bitch. You turned me into your fucking dog.”

  A choked sound comes from her throat, but I don’t let up my hold on her. Instead of fear, I see hunger in her eyes even as she struggles to breathe. Shaking my head, I slam her head back to the wall once before releasing her. Crazy bitch. She falls to the floor coughing, a hand to her neck.

  I turn back to Bud, his disgusting corpse taking up a big chunk of the floor.

  Fuck.

  My mind works in overtime trying to solve this riddle, the fog of the past months finally fucking lifting. I turn my gaze back to Teddy and glare. Fucking psycho. I’ll deal with her later.

  Something touches my bare toe. I look down and see a trail of Bud’s blood. Fuck.

  Well, not like I haven’t cleaned up this room before. My eye twitches as I realize I’m going to have to chop him to move him. Thank fuck for the Sawzall.

  I turn to the wall to grab it and am stopped by Teddy, standing in front of me once more.

  “You’re fucking incredible,” she says breathlessly before throwing herself on me. I start to push her away but when her lips meet mine, I can’t. My heart stops and I feel my lips melt into hers. The lips I’ve waited years and years for, the ones I would have fucking begged for. Like a fucking dog.

  I shove her away with a shout.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

  She laughs, taking another step toward me. “If I had known all I needed to do to get this side of you out was to have someone try to rape me, I would have done it a long time ago.”

  “You’re fucking sick. And this,” I point down to Bud's body, “This, means nothing.”

  I look at her a moment and an idea comes to me. I nod my head toward the wall of cutting tools and down to Bud.

  “Actually, you fucking do it. I’ve cleaned up enough of your goddamn messes.”

  I turn to leave and hear Teddy tsk behind me. I stop at the door and turn to see her holding the old collar control button I haven’t seen in months. The weight around my neck that’s become so familiar suddenly seems heavy and oppressive. She waves it with a smile and starts to open her mouth. I’m across the room before she can say anything. I grip her wrist and squeeze until she releases the button. My eyes stare down into hers and I watch her pupils dilate as they take me in.

  She’s caused me more pain and suffering than Bud ever did, but the desire to beat her to a bloody pulp isn’t there. Something else is, though, a different kind of desire. To control her. To own her, like she owned me. I feel the corner of my mouth turn up at the thought of her on her knees for me.

  “I think the times of you being a little fucking brat are over,” I all but whisper, my face leaning down until it’s only inches from hers. “And things are going to change around here.”

  Her breasts heave under the frilly neckline of her dress and I growl, barely resisting ripping it off her.

  That’s what she wants.

  Sick, twisted bitch.

  I exhale deeply before leaning over to grab
the collar button, turning, and walking out.

  Chapter Seven

  Teddy

  I have never been so fucking turned on than I am right now.

  Even as I’m watching him storm out, leaving me with a big pile of dead Bud, as well as that hoe, Lola, to deal with, all I want to do is rip his clothes off. Fuck what Jane and I have been doing. We’ve been doing it wrong.

  The passion I just saw is unlike anything I’ve seen, and I want more.

  In one of my favorite movies, a character talks about ‘warrior poets’ and that always stuck with me. Watching Branson was like fucking poetry.

  Gone is the stupid fucking puppy that Jane and I created, and thank fuck for that. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of how he looked at me, the heat and rage. It’s funny how similar hate and love truly are, and I don’t doubt Branson feels both. I’ll give him a little bit of time to adjust, to come to terms. But I will get what I want, and I will get my toy back.

  No, not my toy.

  I’ll finally have the boy, no, the man, I’ve been waiting for since I was twelve years old.

  A smile spreads on my face.

  Mine.

  Chapter Eight

  Branson

  It isn’t until I get to the top of the basement steps that I freeze with realization. Not of what just happened, but what that really means. Jane isn’t here. Bud is dead.

  I stumble a few more steps to the table, taking a hard seat as I place my head in my hands. My mind races, the adrenaline coursing through me.

  Am I…. free?

  A stab of fear strikes my heart as I consider all this could mean. Leaving. Going outside. Fuck. I haven’t been off this property in almost twenty fucking years. I did what I could to plan when Teddy and Jane were gone, but it all seems hopelessly inadequate now. Panic rises, but I shove it down in my chest, standing with enough force that the chair tips back behind me.

  I need to think.

  My mind is such a blur from the past year, I hardly believe this is real. But I need to focus.

  “You can’t leave,” Teddy’s voice says from behind me, and it’s only then I realize I’m standing at the front door. I frown, unable to remember how I got here. Despite the fear, I reach my hand out to the doorknob with a shaking hand.

  “You can’t leave!” Teddy says again, this time rushing up beside me with wide eyes. With a growl, I turn on her, my hand wrapping around her arm. Green eyes widen at me, but she doesn’t pull back.

  “You think you’re going to fucking stop me?” I grit out, squeezing tighter before pushing back as I let go. My hand wraps around the door and I internally curse at how it shakes.

  “What about your collar?” she says quickly. “I don’t have the key, Jane does. People will notice it. You have nothing, no clothes, no money. You have no clue what it's like out there.”

  I pause, my hand dropping. “I’ll figure it out.”

  I hear the click of her stepping closer.

  “Let me help you,” she says, her voice barely over a whisper, “Jane isn’t back for a few days. We’ll leave together, like we always wanted.”

  I can’t move, my entire body feels suspended by her words, ones I’ve been waiting to hear since I was sixteen. I remember the first time we tried to escape, how she freaked out when we were going through the house, this young girl I wanted so desperately to save.

  “Branson, I don’t think we can do this alone! I’m not ready yet. Nooooo!”

  The beating I earned for that was legendary, the end result: the collars and chains that still scar my skin. And I learned then she didn’t want to be saved.

  As much as I want to walk out this door right fucking now, I know she’s right. I can’t deny I’m terrified and unprepared for this.

  Jane isn’t back for a while yet. I have a bit of time to prepare.

  But that doesn’t mean I’ll forgive her. Amelia. Mia. Teddy. The best and worst thing that's ever happened to me. I open my eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to see her wide green eyes staring back at me.

  “I won’t leave yet,” I tell her, my voice low, “but I won’t leave with you either.”

  I see her lip quiver slightly, though she raises her head as I walk past and feel a small burst of pride at turning her down. I really do need time to get my head on right. But first, time to get clean. My body itches with weeks of grime I can’t wait to wash away.

  I start to make my way to the stairs, to the drain in the basement that has been my shower facility for years before a slow smile spreads across my face. Turning, I make my way down to Jane’s room, frowning when I notice the door is locked.

  “She’d be pissed if she knew you were in there,” Teddy’s voice says from behind me. I whip around to see her standing in the hall. My eyes narrow at her.

  “Why are you following me? I’m taking a real fucking shower. Fuck off,” I tell her before rattling the door handle one more time. I turn to head down to the kitchen to see if I can find something to open it with, but Teddy stops me.

  “You know, I could pick that lock for you,” she says in a saccharine voice. “But it’ll cost you.”

  My teeth clench together. “Fuck you and your games,” I practically spit at her.

  “Alright, but you’ll not get that door open without me. And let me tell you, Jane really does have the best tub.”

  Sighing, I bring a hand up to my temples. Somehow this reminds me of when we were children and she would tease me. Before things changed and the teasing turned to torture, that is.

  “Fuck, fine. What do you want?”

  Teddy’s smile grows brilliant, and she pushes off the wall, coming up to step right in front of me.

  “One kiss,” she says, looking up at me with those big green eyes. “One kiss, and I’ll open the door for you and leave you to your bath.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Okay,” she replies. My eyes drop to her lips, slightly parted, and I feel myself start to get hard. When I bring my gaze back up to her eyes, I see none of the malice that has marred her features for so long. Instead, hunger and desire blaze through.

  Scowling, I start to turn away, but my body won’t let me deny the pull. I turn quickly, grabbing her face in my hands and pressing my lips forward.

  Fucking explosions.

  Her lips taste sweet and salty, the perfect intoxicating balance that is just as soft as I always imagined. For a moment, it all melts away as our mouths clash together passionately.

  I am not Branson, and she is not Teddy. Together, we’re somehow so much more.

  I push her away with my chest heaving, my cock straining against my pants. I turn. My arm finds a wall to keep myself upright from the wave of dizziness that her touch brought. My eyes clench shut as I try to keep back the self-loathing, the feeling of failure for wanting, for loving, my abuser.

  Teddy has always been my weakness, but I need to be fucking strong now. I am done with being pushed around.

  I hear her footsteps fade down the hall, only to come back a moment later accompanied by a faint jingle. When I look up, Teddy is crouched over, picking at the lock. The door clicks open and she turns, looking up at me.

  “Enjoy your bath,” she says, her voice soft. Then she turns and walks back down the hall, closing her bedroom door behind her.

  I stare after her for several minutes, my lips still burning from her touch. It takes everything in me not to rush down this hallway and take her now. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths and let myself calm.

  When I open my eyes again, it’s with steely purpose.

  No more mind games, no more captivity.

  Time to actually live.

  ✽✽✽

  It takes me a good while to properly wash, and honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt as clean as I do now. My hair has always been long, and the feeling of the close cut—the air on my scalp—is somehow invigorating. I’ve never been much of one to grow a proper beard, but the scruff that decorated my face is now
gone, courtesy of a fantastic little blade I decide to keep with me. When I finally step back and look in the mirror, it's a different person looking back at me.

  Scars and marks still decorate my skin, the fucking collar around my neck still mocking me, but it really is me. As I’m looking in the mirror, I realize I have another problem. I haven’t had real clothes in, well, ever. My eyes drift over to Jane’s dresser, but the thought of touching anything of hers makes my skin crawl even more than the thought of putting on the rags that I wore before.

  Looking down at my nakedness, I shrug. I wrap a towel around myself and head down to the kitchen.

  Next, real fucking food.

  Familiar as I am with the kitchen, it takes me little time to get all the ingredients I need on the counter. I feel somewhat peaceful doing these routine actions, even more so with the knowledge that I am doing it for myself. My mind drifts back to Teddy and I instinctively start to wonder if she’s hungry. I immediately shove the thought from my mind.

  Fuck her.

  Chapter Nine

  Teddy

  I don’t know why, but I find my feet taking me downstairs to begin the cleanup without thinking about it. It isn’t until I’m struggling to drag Bud’s body into a better position to cut up that I realize I listened to what Branson told me to do. I try to think back and remember the last time I had to clean up my own kill and realize it was before Jane and I ever left.

  My motions slow, but I don’t stop as I start to remember bits of that time before, things I haven’t thought of in years. Even then, it was always Branson’s job to clean up, but I would sneak away from Jane and come help him, bringing him treats and telling him stories while we worked. Jane hated him even back then, though it obviously escalated over the years. Despite how she treated him, he was always the same toward me. He taught me biology, telling me about how the human body worked as we chopped up corpses together.

  I remember how happy I would feel when I would remember a particularly difficult Latin name, earning one of his rare smiles. Those smiles I’ve only ever seen him give me.