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“Good girl,” Caius murmurs, his voice smooth, almost soothing as he watches me swallow the pills, one after the other. He knows I’m surrendering, that I’m giving in to the darkness, and that’s exactly what he wants. His approval washes over me, mixing with the bitter taste of the pills, the beginnings of numbness already creeping into my mind.
He pulls a joint from his pocket, lighting it with practiced ease before taking a long drag. The familiar scent of weed fills the air as he holds it out to me, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “Here, this’ll help too. Just relax, Tatum. Let it all go.”
I take the joint from him, my hands still unsteady, and inhale deeply, the smoke burning my throat as it fills my lungs. The combination of the drugs and the weed hits me hard, a wave of dizziness washing over me, dulling the sharp edges of my thoughts, blurring the lines between right and wrong.
Caius watches me, his expression softening as I exhale, the smoke curling around us like a shroud. He takes my hand, guiding me to the couch, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pulls me down beside him. The room spins around me, the world narrowing to just the two of us, the haze thickening, drowning out everything else.
“See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear, his breath warm on my skin. “This is what you need, Tatum. This is where you belong. With me. Always with me.”
I nod, the words barely registering as I sink deeper into the numbness, the chaos fading into the background, replaced by a strange sense of peace. It’s all so easy now, so simple. No more fear, no more guilt. Just the two of us, lost in the darkness, together.
But even as I let go, as I allow the drugs to pull me under, a tiny part of me still clings to the light, to the memory of who I used to be. It’s fading, slipping away, but it’s still there, a flicker of resistance in the depths of my mind.
And I know that as long as it exists, there’s a chance—no matter how small—that I might find my way back. But for now, I let it go, let it drift away, surrendering to the darkness, to Caius, to the oblivion that has become my only escape.
8
Ryan Oakes - Numb
A few days have passed, blurring into one long, hazy stretch of time where the only constants are Tatum and the drugs. We’ve spent nearly all of it holed up in my room, raiding our parents’ medicine cabinets and popping pills like candy. The school’s been calling, leaving voicemails that we never answer. None of it matters. The world outside is distant, irrelevant like it doesn’t even exist.
But she does.
Tatum’s been quiet today, more than usual, the drugs dulling her usual sharpness. I can tell she’s itching to get out, the way she keeps glancing at the door, her fingers twitching, restless. Her restlessness is infectious, crawling under my skin until I can’t ignore it anymore. She’s like a caged animal, pacing, her energy coiled tight, ready to snap. So I think it’s time to take her out again, back to the club. It’s been days since we last went since she killed that guy.
The memory of it replays in my mind, “Let’s go out tonight,”
I can see the excitement flicker in her eyes at the mere mention of leaving the house. The drugs are clearly working their magic, making her eager for the chaos we thrive on.
“Yes! Thank fuck. I could use some fresh air,” she jumps up excitedly, “but first, we need to shower. Can’t take you out looking like that,” she adds with a laugh. I watch as she lifts my black t-shirt over her head and tosses it to the floor. She’s been living in it for days.
No panties, just my goddamn t-shirt.
I follow her, sliding my sweatpants down my legs and kicking them to the side.
After a few minutes the bathroom is a haze of steam, and the hot water pounds against the tiles like rain. The air is thick and humid, clinging to our skin as we step inside. The fluorescent lights above cast a dim, flickering glow, making the room feel surreal like we’re caught in some kind of dream. Or maybe it’s just the drugs.
I can barely feel the water, though. The pills we took before stumbling in here have my head swimming, my thoughts a jumbled mess. Everything’s distant like I’m moving through molasses, but Tatum is the one thing that’s sharp and vivid, the only thing that cuts through the fog.
She steps under the spray first, her skin glistening as the water cascades over her. She tilts her head back, letting it drench her hair. Her dark strands clinging to her face and body. There’s something almost hypnotic about the way she moves, her hands sliding down her slick skin, the way her eyes flutter shut as she lets out a soft sigh and loses herself in the sensation.
I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s mesmerizing, her every movement a temptation, a dare. My heart is pounding, each beat thrumming in my ears, but it’s not just the drugs this time. It’s her. It’s always fucking her.
I step closer, the water hitting my skin in a rush of warmth, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating off her. She opens her eyes, meeting mine with a look that makes my cock twitch. Her lips curve into a slow, knowing smile like she can read my thoughts and knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Without a word, she drops to her knees on the wet tiles, the water splashing around her, mixing with the slickness of her skin. Her eyes never leave mine as she reaches out and wraps her fingers around me, firm and confident. There’s no hesitation in her movements, no uncertainty. She knows what she’s doing, and she knows I want it.
The sensation of her mouth on my cock’s head is electric. It sends a jolt of pleasure through my body that has me gripping the edge of the shower for support. The combination of the drugs and her touch is overwhelming, a heady mix that leaves me reeling, barely able to think. All I can do is feel—feel the warmth of her mouth, the slickness of her tongue, the goddamn pressure as she takes me deeper.
She moves with a slow, deliberate rhythm, her tongue tracing along every inch of me. Her lips form a perfect seal around my girth. The steam from the shower surrounds us, a thick, swirling cloud that makes everything feel even more intense and more surreal. The sound of the water hitting the tiles mixes with the wet, obscene sounds of her mouth working me over.
My hand finds its way to the back of her head. My fingers tangle in her wet hair as I guide her, but she shoves it away. She wants to take control. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, dark and full of something primal, something that sends a surge of heat straight to my cock. She’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Fuck, maybe even more.
Her other hand comes up, cupping my balls as she softly massages them, adding to the sensation, and I can’t hold back the low groan that escapes my lips. It echoes off the tiles around us, lost in the steam and the pounding water, but she hears it, and it spurs her on. She picks up the pace, her head bobbing faster, taking me deeper, her throat constricting around me in a way that has my vision blurring, stars dancing at the edges.
“Fuck, Tatum,” I groan as I look down at her, watching how well her pretty mouth takes me. “You suck me so fucking good.”
