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

by Ella Burns

  After a while, her sobs slow and eventually stop, though I don't release her from my arms. Blood splatter coats us both and I'm still naked, but I don't want the moment to end yet. I've dreamed of holding her this way for so long.

  "I'm sorry," she says, pulling back to wipe her face. Despite the tear tracks and bloodshot eyes, she still looks perfect to me. I don't say anything, not trusting my voice as we stand there awkwardly, both unsure how to move forward.

  Mia's eyes finally go down, landing on Jane's still form.

  "She's really dead," she says, cocking her head to the side.

  "That's pretty fucking dead," I agree.

  We stand there for several more minutes.

  I'm still holding her in my arms when a bell I haven't heard in years rings out above us. We both pause, pulling back and looking at one another. It only takes another second before recognition hits and I realize what we're hearing.

  "Someone's at the fucking front door!"

  "What?" Mia exclaims, her eyes wide.

  I step over Jane and grab a pair of pants, pulling them on quickly as I talk. "That bell rings down here too because of some shit Jane set up years ago. It was a warning system in case she was down here and someone showed up."

  "Who the hell would show up here?"

  "You tell me," I dart a glare. "How has the antiques business been running lately?"

  She shakes her head. "It’s been months. She said it was just a break, but she was acting strange already. Fuck, I wish I knew where she was for the last few days."

  The bell rings again.

  "What do we do?" she asks after another beat. Reaching behind her, I pull out a long blade and sheath from the cupboard behind her, strapping them to my waist.

  "We see who it is."

  PART 4

  Lawless are they that make their wills their law.

  William Shakespeare

  Chapter One

  Teddy

  We make our way upstairs and despite the seriousness of the situation, I can't help but continue to steal glances at Branson. His face is serious, stern, and I can't help but admire it.

  He thought I betrayed him to Jane—we'll have to clear that up at some point—but I want to go back to before she showed up. The new Branson intrigues me, and I crave more. Once we get upstairs, I lock the basement door, a task so routine it's automatic. The bell rings again.

  "Someone really wants to talk to Jane," he mutters, his hand clenching around the blade he grabbed. I watch his hands and imagine him holding that knife in one, my throat in the other. My thighs squeeze together involuntarily.

  He steps out of the kitchen and toward the foyer and I follow, shaking my head to dispel the ill-timed thoughts. Plenty of time later for that. I wait as he goes up to the eyehole, peaking out before muttering fuck and stepping away.

  My forehead knits together as I step up and look out, my eyes widening immediately.

  "The fucking police?" I exclaim, more baffled than anything. While being wary of them in the city was something I've grown used to, we're so secluded out here and I've never seen one close. Why the hell are there cops here now?

  The man bangs on the other side of the door, making me jump.

  "What the hell do we do?" I ask, my voice quiet. Branson just shakes his head.

  "I'm thinking."

  I look back out the peephole, narrowing my eyes to look around better. I peek around and only see the one man.

  "I think he's alone," I whisper.

  I pull away and look at Branson, who's watching me with an expression I can't read. I hear a noise from outside and look to see the cop heading down the steps, pausing at the bottom to look back up at the door. Chills run up my spine and I get the uncanny feeling that he knows we're here.

  "Stay here and watch him," Branson whispers behind me. "I'm going to get changed quickly and grab the key off Jane. Once he's gone, we should sneak away."

  His footsteps fade away and I watch the cop, my eyes narrowing when I realize he isn't heading back to his car. He's walking over to the barn.

  I lick my lips and feel a familiar rush as I realize what I get to do next. I pat down my side and realize I have no knives on me. Frowning, I head to the kitchen and grab a chef’s knife, letting it run down my finger. A small line of blood wells up and I smile.

  "Perfect."

  Moving quietly, I head toward the front door, making sure the cop isn't in sight before poking my head out, closing the door behind me. Heavy clouds are building overhead, and a low rumble in the distance makes me grin.

  It hasn't been my day, but it looks like it's about to get a lot better.

  Stalking along the side of the house, I make my way toward the cop and the barn, knife in hand.

  I lick my lips as I peer around the corner of the building, the door to the main room wide open. The cop stands at the front, looking in with a large, black flashlight. His other hand is on his gun, but it isn't drawn. I look down at my outfit, splattered with blood as it is, and smile. Shoving the knife down the back of my pants, I let out a breath before dropping my face and stumbling out into the clearing.

  The cop whips around, drawing his gun immediately before his eyes widen.

  "Holy fuck! What the hell happened to you, girl?" The man puts the gun away and rushes over to me, one hand going to the radio at his belt. "Officer Green calling—”

  My hand darts out, the sharp blade plunging deep into his gut. The man gurgles, dropping his radio as his hands fall to his stomach. He looks down at the knife and then up at me, confusion and pain written on his face.

  I giggle, stepping back as he drops to the ground.

  "Oops," I say with a hand to my mouth, the giggle turning into a full laugh as he falls to his side, blood dribbling out of his mouth.

  "Officer Green, please repeat?"

  I frown down at the radio and lean to pick it up.

  "Mia! What the fuck did you do!"

  Chapter Two

  Branson

  I have imagined my first time stepping outside in so long a million different ways, but never once did I think it would be frantically looking for Amelia. I definitely didn't expect this, though really, I suppose I should have.

  The cop is dead, or almost, and Mia, no Teddy, stands there looking guilty with a fresh smear of blood on her face. Despite how pissed I am at having more shit to deal with, I can't help but stare at her, her expression animated and excited. She truly is in her element.

  Thunder booms overhead at the same instant it begins to rain. I look up to the sky and close my eyes, letting it wash over me. The freshness, the coldness, refreshing and invigorating.

  "He was poking around," she says, and I open my eyes to look at her. The rain pours steady, and she's already soaked. Her blonde hair clings to her face just as her clothes cling to her body. She looks at me expectantly.

  I step over the man, looking down briefly to confirm he's dead. I don’t feel as bad as I know I’m supposed to. I also know if we are going to be free, properly free, then she can’t be killing cops. My hand reaches down to her chin, forcing her gaze up to mine.

  "No more," I tell her, my voice low and firm. Her tongue darts out to lick her full bottom lip and I have to bite back a groan. Water pours down on us, the blood on the ground washing into the mud.

  "You gonna make me?" she taunts, stepping back from my grasp and into the open barn. And despite the seriousness of the situation, I feel the corner of my lip turn up. Fucking brat.

  A smile plays out on her face as she walks backward, her eyes never leaving mine. A dare and a challenge. I feel my dick twitch as I take a step forward.

  We have two bodies to get rid of. A cop, who may not have been alone, and the woman who basically raised us both. This is the worst fucking time for this, but I also can't help but think possibly the best.

  Have we ever really lived in the moment?

  Besides, it's time she learns how things are going to be from now on. She takes another step back.<
br />
  "Stop," I command, and she does, eyeing me with interest rather than wariness. My dick is rock hard, remembering the last time she listened when I told her what to do.

  "Make me," she says, her voice a whisper. She giggles and runs off into the barn. My brows practically hit my hairline at her brazenness, but a grin strikes my face.

  If she wants to play, then let's play.

  Chapter Three

  Teddy

  My heart is pounding as I run through the familiar aisles of furniture and crap that fills the old barn. The antiques business has long since run dry with Jane ignoring it, and a layer of dust and neglect hangs over everything. The rain pours down heavily, covering any sound of being followed I might hear. My nipples are hard against the fabric of my shirt. Sparks of excitement race through me as I hide behind an old dresser, peeking out to see if he's following.

  The thrill of the recent kills still courses through me and the thought of being able to truly have release after.... I peer out again, letting out a small squeal when I see a shadow moving closer.

  "Come out, Amelia," he calls out. "It'll be easier on you if you do."

  I bite my lip at the promise, pleased he's playing my games with me. With a giggle, I turn to change spots and gasp when I hit a large chest. His hand darts out and grabs my wrist before I can move away. I look up at him and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, 'that it'?

  Or maybe that was just me.

  Twisting my body to move away, I overestimate how slippery my wet skin is. He easily flips me around so my back is to him, his arms around my body holding my arms to me.

  "I know you think you want this," he whispers in my ear, "But you should have fought harder, little doll. You have years and years to pay for, but I think we'll start with this little mess you made."

  He spins me around to face him and I open my mouth, but he finds mine before I can speak. I melt into his lips but push back against his chest a moment later. He doesn't move far and his hand reaches out and grips my throat. My hand comes up instinctively, but he grabs it, twisting it around my back.

  "Aghg," I let out a strangled cry, and he squeezes tighter on my throat until I can't breathe. My own heartbeat pumps against his hands, slowly, steadily. I feel the top of my thighs heat even as I struggle against his grip. My own grasp loosens as my vision begins to dot and fade. He releases me, catching my limp body easily as I gasp for air.

  Not waiting for me to recover, he grabs both my wrists in his and pulls his belt from its loops. The crack of leather makes me gasp, but not in fear. I try to pull my wrists away, despite my clit beginning to throb and how badly I want to see what he does with that belt.

  "Little doll..." he says, his voice low with warning. Through my struggles, he quickly pulls the loop tightly over my wrist. I grunt lightly as he tugs on it, tightening it as he pulls me to him.

  "That's a bit better," he smirks, and I lean up to nip at his lip, making him chuckle. Keeping his eyes on my face, he fastens the belt and drops my hands so they fall in front of me. He grabs my chin, pulling me to him until we're almost, but not quite, touching. His smell, that base masculine scent that he's always had, fills me. Underneath, the hint of blood and fresh rain all combine in a heady mixture.

  Excitement courses through me at the thought of what he’ll do to me. Pain doesn’t scare me. The only thing that scares me is the thought of living a life of dullness and boredom.

  And Branson? Branson excites me.

  "Now, about your punishment," he says, stepping away from me and slowly pulling off his dripping-wet shirt. I let out a small whimper, and he turns to me and winks. Winks!

  Even though I've seen him naked a million times, his body still makes mine tingle. The scars on his skin, especially the ones from me, are the most erotic thing I've ever seen. My lips part and I'm aware I'm almost panting as I watch him begin to remove his socks.

  "Teddy," he tells me, "has been a very bad girl, and so has Amelia. But it's my Little Doll who is going to take the punishment. Do you understand?"

  I find myself nodding without thinking, his words washing over me. He smiles.

  "Good."

  He steps up to me once more, wearing only pants. I'm acutely aware of how many clothes I'm wearing and wish I had taken the time to undress in my mad dash. I twist my wrists lightly against the tight band and his eyes glance down at them.

  "Turn around," he tells me.

  I wait only a second before obliging, turning so my back is facing him. My breath is loud in my own ears, the rain drowning out the sound of his approach. I feel rather than hear when he steps up behind me. A hand touches my shoulder, and something presses against my spine. It takes me a moment to realize it's a blade. My breath catches as he pushes down lightly, his hand holding me straight and steady.

  After a moment, he releases his hand and reaches up to let the blade slide down the fabric of my top. Cold air hits my back and I shiver but stay still as he rips the rest of the shirt off, leaving my top half bare save for the belt around my hands. The blade trails down my naked flesh and I don't move, waiting as it moves down to the silk belt still holding my poofy skirt in place.

  I turn my head to look down, doing a double take when I see him untying the silk length carefully rather than cutting it. When he's done, he places it on a nearby piece of furniture. He turns back to me, taking the skirt in both hands and ripping it. The fabric tugs against my waist and I let out a small gasp as the cool air touches the rest of my flesh.

  I close my thighs instinctively as I stand there in only panties and socks once more, my bound wrists the only other thing covering my nakedness. My eyes follow him closely as he walks around me, taking in my body. I stand as tall as I can, letting my hungry eyes show him what I want, what I need.

  I’ve had the chance before to be with men. Shit, I’ve played around with my fair share. But none of them ever gave me a fraction of what I needed. Passion and desire like I feel right now are something special. Worth waiting for.

  For the first time, I’m grateful Jane made me wait.

  He's like a predator, sure and fierce, as he stalks in front of me. I'm fucking baffled we ever managed to break this magnificent man, but it occurs to me perhaps that’s where his strength comes from. After all, broken people are the best kind.

  "You are fucking amazing," I say, not caring about the breathless tone of my voice. He raises an eyebrow at me before gesturing down to his naked torso. My eyes follow his hands willingly, landing on the hardness in his pants.

  "You like this?" he asks, and I bite my lips with a nod. He smirks, reaching over to grab the silk belt before stepping up to me. I almost laugh when he reaches up and loops it around my eyes, tying it tight behind my head so I can't see a thing.

  Despite the obvious message, I have a feeling I'm going to like what's next too.

  His touch leaves me and I let out a groan, the blindness immediately disorienting me. I sway, unable to steady myself with my hands bound and vision gone. I feel exposed and naked, exactly what he intended, I assume. The sound of furniture moving causes me to jump, my head moving in the direction of it. Shivers course through me as I wait, standing there nearly naked, waiting for his touch.

  The sound comes closer until he reaches out and takes me by the arm, pulling me forward gently. I move easily at his direction, hesitating only slightly as he bends me at the waist. My whole body feels like it's vibrating, and I let out a small sound when I touch something. His hands guide my arms forward until my chest is almost flat and I realize I'm laid out over his legs.

  "Seven years," he says, and despite how quiet his voice is, I hear him clearly even over the patter of rain. "Seven years you tortured me, abused me."

  His hand comes up, caressing my ass lightly over the fabric of my panties. I feel myself clench in anticipation.

  "One."

  Smack.

  "Two."

  Smack.

  "Three."

  His hand comes down, and I bite m
y lip against the sting.

  "Four. Five. Six."

  On seven, I let out a hiss at the burn. He pauses, rubbing the cheek lightly for a second before helping me stand. My head swims a bit from bending and my butt is a bit sore. I frown lightly. Before I can open my mouth to let out a smart remark about the lightness of his so-called punishment, he pushes me over again, this time so I'm propped on the stool with my butt out.

  "One," he says.

  SMACK.

  Something heavy and leather comes down on my ass and I let out a yelp, straightening immediately. His hands come to me immediately, holding me still. I struggle for a second before stopping. I wasn't expecting that.

  "Seven years," he whispers again. "You can handle it."

  I swallow deeply and feel myself nod. He kisses my cheek and I feel him smile.

  "Good girl."

  I feel a flush of warmth at his words as I lean over, this time braced for it.

  "Two."

  My teeth are clenched as he works, steady and sure. It isn't until the last one I let out a cry. My ass feels angry and red but my clit pulses with my heartbeat. Once again he comes over, lightly caressing my tender cheeks with his hand.

  "Very good girl," he whispers again, a finger reaching into the fabric of my panties. My breath catches as his touch trails down, cupping my warmth in his hands. I let out a hum of pleasure and hear his own intake of breath.

  "So wet for me," he mutters, "You liked that, didn’t you, little doll?"

  "Yes," I moan, pressing my pussy into his hand. One of his fingers snakes out, creeping in until he presses it lightly into my waiting depths. I groan as he pushes in, relishing the sound of his breathing quicken.

  “Hardly a punishment if you liked it,” he mutters, but doesn’t stop.

  "I want to see you, touch you," I plead, holding out my wrists in front of me. He continues the slow and steady movements of his finger, enough to feel incredible but not enough to push me over the edge.

  "Not yet," he says, leaning down to nip at my ear. I turn my head and twist my body to stand, but his free hand finds the small of my back, pressing me back down. I turn my head to hiss in his direction just as he slips another finger in and the sound changes to a moan. Without my sight, being unable to move, every touch is heightened tenfold and my skin feels alive where he touches it.