Moth to a Flame

by K. Webster

  “Vick, where is Cale?” I feared for the answer.

  His brows furrowed nastily. “I hit that fucker over the head with a two-by-four. He won’t be getting up anytime soon. The asshole should have never touched what was mine in the first place,” he growled.

  My stomach turned at the thought of him hurt. “Did you drug me?” I questioned, my chin quivering.

  He just wickedly chuckled at me. “No, I gave you a little swat upside the head too.”

  That would explain the headache.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “I’m taking you where we should have gone the first time. I was so nervous that night when I saw you at the party. I had just cut my hair off and got contacts in an effort to be more like the guys you dated. When I went to talk to you…you fucking walked right past me like I wasn’t even there!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the steering wheel.

  I leaned as far away from him as I could, fresh tears falling from my eyes.

  “So I waited after the party for you. It suddenly hit me that you’d never choose me. We were from two different worlds. You came from money and pranced around in your fancy-ass shoes. I came from a trailer park on an academic scholarship and had a dad that liked to beat the shit out of me for fun. There came a moment when I realized that, if I really wanted something, I needed to just take it. I was tired of waiting to be given the opportunity. Once I had you in my car, I had great plans of taking you home and making love to you. Eventually you’d come to realize how much we were meant to be together. But you FUCKING RUINED IT!” he screamed at me, reaching over to grab my hair.

  When he pulled me to him, I yelped in pain and he chastely kissed me on my cheek. I was horrified at how long he kept his eyes off the road. After what seemed like eternity, he let go and continued paying attention to where he was going. Then he started to speak again.

  “Once I realized you’d left me in the car to die, I had to rethink my strategy. It didn’t take long to find you. I watched you for weeks, learning that you had a thing for online shoes. It occurred to me that I could deliver those to you and maybe develop a more natural relationship with you. When I applied online for the delivery company, they denied me because of the DUI that night of the accident. I had to come up with other means and got fake identification so I could get the job.

  “Getting to see you each week was what I looked forward to. We finally were developing a relationship without the distraction of school or bitchy friends. It seemed you were finally into me and I asked you out for the second time. You fucking denied me AGAIN!” he yelled, getting pissed at the memory.

  “That stupid asshole had gotten ahold of you, and suddenly, you were in love. Our special date that you agreed to go on with me was RUINED when I found you kissing him in the hallway of the restaurant. That was a bitch move, Lia. After that, I realized you were never going to pick me, no matter what I looked like. You can imagine my horror when I followed you into the woods with that dickhead. You had one date with him and were whoring around in the woods.

  “After many attempts to reach out to you, I thought we’d finally made progress at the Halloween party. You were enjoying my caresses that night. Remember, Lia, how you moaned when I touched your pussy? It was because secretly, deep down, you love me too. When we were about to make love, that jealous fucker had to come in and tear me off of you.”

  I started crying as I listened to his warped version of things.

  “But it’s all over now, Lia. We can finally be together. I’m taking you to my special place and we can finally make love. It will be our home where I will take care of you. I love you, Lia.” His smile was sickening.

  Suddenly, I felt ill. “Sa—uh, Vick—please stop the car. I think I might throw up.”

  “Honey, are you okay?” The sympathy in his voice was confusing.

  Absolute psychopath. “No, I’m not. Can you please pull over for a minute?” I begged, feeling really nauseated.

  He momentarily debated internally but ultimately decided to pull over on the dark highway. Then he got out and came around to my side of the car, opening the door for me. I leaned out of the car and started dry-heaving. When he pulled my hair back, I actually did vomit. Once I had emptied the contents of my stomach, he closed the car door and got back in on his side.

  We drove for another fifteen minutes in silence before he turned down a dark street, eventually stopping at a run-down farm house. My heart started to beat wildly against my chest. After opening my car door, he jerked me out and heaved me over his shoulder. I was helpless to escape his grasp since I was completely bound by the tape. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing once I realized that he was taking me to the dilapidated barn.

  LIA! WHEN I came to, my thoughts were immediately on Lia and where Sam had taken her. Shit! I had to find her quick. I jumped into my truck, ignoring the blasting headache, and called my dad as I headed towards Austin.

  “Dad! Sam has Lia!” I shouted into the phone when he answered.

  “Fuck! We’re too late. Cale, I need you to listen to me. My friend sent me an address earlier to a property that was gifted to Sam after his grandfather’s death. I was going to send it to you but was going to wait until the morning. It’s on the outskirts of Austin. I’ll meet you there after I call the police. I will text you the address. If he’s taken her somewhere, then that would probably be where he’d go. Son, be careful,” he warned before hanging up.

  When my phone chimed, I typed in the address in my GPS as I drove like a bat out of hell. Please, God, let her be okay. I can’t live without Lia. Since it was late, thankfully there weren’t many cars on the road. I pounded my hands against the steering wheel with each passing mile. My GPS finally indicated the road I needed to turn on to arrive at my destination. It was critical that I had the element of surprise, so I flipped off my headlights and slowly drove up to the house.

  After slipping out of the truck, I pulled the gun out from underneath the seat and tucked it into my waistband. The house was completely dark, but there was light coming from the barn and I could hear voices. When I heard her scream, I bolted towards the barn faster than any football game I’d ever run in.

  The sight momentarily stunned me. My sweet Lia. That fucker had taped her ankles and knees, and her hands were bound behind her back. Rage blurred my vision when I witnessed her desperate attempt to roll away from his endless kicking. That asshole was kicking my woman. Snapping out of my shock, I tore off towards him. When I reached him, my body slammed against his as I tackled him to the ground.

  He cursed a slew of words out at me as we scuffled, rolling over and over. We were each trying to get the advantage over the other. This motherfucker might have been as tall as me but I was a hell of a lot stronger than his scrawny ass. Lia was screaming in the background, only adding fuel to my fire of hate towards Sam. I felt powerful when I finally managed to pin the asshole underneath me. There was no way he was winning this fucking fight. Not against me. Not when I had all the fury in the world backing me to protect my girl. As I raised my fist to punch him, I realized Lia had been shouting something at me the entire time, but my mind had shut out all noise in my rage.

  “He has a knife!” The words she screamed snapped my attention to the man beneath me but it was too late. I gasped in shock when I felt the sharp blow to my stomach.

  Looking down, I blinked in surprise as blood quickly poured out around the knife that was stuck in my stomach. He can’t win. This can’t happen.

  Remembering the gun and that I still had the advantage of being on top of him, I yanked it from my waistband. The darkness was quickly eating away at my vision. So in one last moment of clarity, I focused and aimed the gun at his head, not even hesitating as I squeezed the trigger. My last thoughts were of Lia, my love. And then I was gone.

  The angel was back to take me away. This time, she had brown hair. Her beauty was otherworldly as she spoke silent words to me, her green eyes filling with tears. She had the most beautiful w
ings that spread out behind her. Then, a different angel knelt beside me. This angel had black hair and was smiling.

  She whispered, “You found what makes you happy, Cale. I love you.” The angel with black hair kissed my forehead and stood up. Then she walked away, leaving me with the green-eyed one.

  What kind of angel wears black combat boots, I thought as she disappeared in the distance?

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Is that my alarm clock?

  What day is it?

  Suddenly, I jerked awake, needing to find Lia.

  “Cale!” she shouted, running up to me, crying.

  Where the hell am I?

  Next to her was my dad, who was also crying.

  “Where am I?” I murmured. My voice was raspy and nearly unrecognizable.

  She smiled through her tears and kissed my hand. “You’re in the hospital. You were stabbed in the abdomen when you came to rescue me from Sam,” she explained. Her smile fell and she started crying harder. “You almost died.”

  I blinked as I came to terms that I almost left this world without my Lia. Like that would ever fucking happen.

  “They had you in surgery for hours. But you made it. Thank you for saving me from him and risking your own life to do it,” she sobbed. “I love you, Cale.”

  “I love you too, Lia.”

  “Please don’t ever leave me again,” she begged.

  “I could never leave you. Your light pulls me in. As long as your light burns bright, I’ll always follow it like a moth to a flame. Even the prospect of death couldn’t stop me,” I promised.

  Almost two months later on Christmas Day…

  EVERYONE WAS STANDING around Cale, looking at his newest tattoo on his other bicep. It was of his black-haired angel. I smiled when thinking of his story of seeing her when he had been nearly dying. He truly had a guardian angel looking after him, and I loved her for it.

  This was a unique Christmas. We were having dinner in the house Cale had just finished building. After he recovered, we both moved into it together. We were able to have everyone I cared about over. Pops and Betty came—romance novels by the bagful—Mom and Rich—from Seattle this time—and finally Steve and Charlotte from Austin. Anj, Deion, and the kids popped over for a few minutes before heading over to her parents’ house.

  Now, the eight of us were sitting by the fire after having just exchanged gifts. Since I didn’t get one from Cale yet, I assumed he had a surprise for me later. One of his gifts from me was underwear, to which I just got a cocked eyebrow.

  Oh, the irony.

  Cale stood up in front of everyone. “Thank you all for coming here. Lia and I care for every single one of you. That is why it would be an honor for you all to witness this,” he smiled, winking at Rich knowingly. When he knelt before me, my heart started to pound out of my chest and I heard my mom squeal. “Lia, I love you more than anything. Will you please marry me?” He slipped a very gorgeous ring onto my finger.

  I cried as I shouted, “Yes!”

  He gave me a long, sweet kiss. When everyone was done congratulating us, I pulled out my real present for him. He looked confused when I handed him the bag.

  “Open it up,” I told him, grinning.

  He pulled out the mug and stared at it quietly for a moment, processing. When his eyes looked up at me, glistening with tears, I told him to look inside the mug. After he retrieved a sonogram of our little baby from inside the cup, his face broke into a huge smile and squeezed me to him.

  “How?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Well, it turns out when you’re running around camping, having sleepovers with your boyfriend, and tearing off to New York, you forget to take your birth control pills,” I laughed.

  “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed my lips.

  “I love you too, ‘Number-One Dad,’” I grinned as I held up his new mug.

  Finally. Safe.

  Over three years earlier…

  The headlights came careening across the median right into my path. There was no way of avoiding the collision. When the crunch of metal and screeching of tires had ended, I found myself sitting up in my seat, dazed. I must have hit my head on the steering wheel because it was pounding and I was becoming lightheaded and dizzy.

  When I looked up, an angel stood out in front of my car watching me. It was my guardian angel, and she was beautiful. Her blond hair was blowing in the wind, whipping around her face. I saw her mouth the words, “Please, God.” Her beautiful, green eyes were filled with tears, so pained. Spread out behind her were the most stunning, delicate wings.

  But then my angel had to leave, flying off into the night. And I fell into a black oblivion, missing her already.

  The End.

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  I’M A THIRTY three year old self-proclaimed book nerd. Married to my husband for eleven years, we enjoy spending time with our two lovely children. Writing is a newly acquired fun hobby for me that has now turned into a livelihood. In the past, I’ve enjoyed the role as a reader. However, I have learned I absolutely love taking on the creative role as the writer. Something about determining how the story will play out intrigues me to no end. My husband claims that it’s because I like to control things—in a way he’s right!

  Most days, you can find me firmly planted in front of my computer. It’s my life. If the world ever loses power, I’d be one of the first to die—of boredom! But, I guess as long as I have books and a light, I might just survive.
r />   Looking forward, you can expect to see many more novels from me—my fingers are on fire to get these stories out of my head!

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  A little more from K Webster……..

  (A Standalone Paranormal Erotic Romance)

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  She approaches me with the glassy, far-off look, and I cower away from her. There is no escaping her when she goes into one of her moods. When she’s like this, I refer to her as Clean Momma. I plead with my eyes, not daring to voice my prayers. You never speak to her when she has that look in her eyes. Speaking will only make things ten times worse.

  “Sidney, baby, are you dirty?” she questions, the sweetness in her voice thick as syrup.

  I blink a few times to rid the tears that are threatening. Clean Momma hates tears.

  Quickly shaking my head from side to side, I once again plead with her nonverbally to not go to the inevitable. When she takes a step toward me, I flinch, and the corners of her lips turn up into a sickening smile.

  Momma is as twisted as they come. Even being a very naïve, sheltered fifteen-year-old girl, I know that there is something sick in her brain. Thankfully she allows me to borrow books from the library. Because of those escapes from hell, I know that I am living in a nightmare that is far from a normal life.

  As if reading my mind, she glares at me with all the hate she can muster, it seems, and I nearly vomit. But I choke it back because you certainly do not do that in front of Momma. Only a few times in my life has it happened, and I paid dearly for them.