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

by Ella Burns

  “Quiet, little doll, the whole apartment building will hear you.”

  She giggles and presses her lips forward.

  “Make me.”

  ✽✽✽

  My hands trail through her tousled hair as we lie in bed, the last light of the day shining through the blinds. Small hands touch my chest and stomach and I sigh contentedly, tugging her a fraction tighter to me. A small, murmured sound of contentment falls from her mouth an instant later.

  “Wait, you said you had something for me!” she says, sitting up and looking at me with bright eyes.

  “Well, I suppose you’ve been good,” I tease, groaning as I reach over to grab the bag dropped in my earlier eagerness to get her to bed. I’m thankful we’ve managed to claw together a bit of money from our last few kills because when I saw it, I knew I needed to get it for her.

  Her eyes widen as they drop into the bag, her gaze looking up to me as though for confirmation. I smile and nod lightly at the bag and she squeals, pulling out the shirt and holding it up.

  Though she still loves to fuck around with her little dresses, she’s been adopting a more adult and darker wardrobe and I knew I had to see her in this.

  “It’s amazing!” She exclaims, immediately tugging it over her head. I look at the front, there is a cute but angry little teddy bear adorning the front with the words ‘They Call Me Teddy’ underneath. She looks down at it and laughs again before tossing herself forward into my arms. I wrap myself around her easily, inhaling deeply the beautiful smell of her.

  “Okay, this means we need to go out tonight then,” she tells me, and I nod my assent. She lets off another laugh before skipping off to the bathroom in only her t-shirt, her white ass bouncing the whole way.

  Once she’s gone, I make my way over to the other forgotten bag, making sure she’s not coming back, before pulling it out. Reaching in, I pull out a few of the pills and pop them in my mouth, swallowing them dry, before putting them away again.

  Resolve rather than guilt fills me, and I let out a deep breath before joining Mia in the bathroom. If my girl wants to go out, out it is.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Teddy

  My arm loops through Branson’s as we make our way down the nighttime streets. Though the area is far from high end, it isn’t the scum of our usual locale either. Heavy bass thumps from a building up ahead and I smile, squeezing his arm tighter and looking up to him. His brow is pulled into its usual scowl and I see a hint of something else in his eyes, but when he looks at me it's pushed down by love.

  “Where are we going, exactly?” I ask as we pass by another club. People don’t give us a second glance dressed as we are in black, another gothic couple roaming the streets.

  “Just a place I heard about I thought you’d like,” he says vaguely, the corner of his lip turning up. I feel my own mouth twist into a wry smile but don’t press further, content to let him have his surprise.

  When we turn a corner and a red glow comes into view, I know we’ve reached our destination. The only sign says D&S and a large man stands at the door, nodding to us as we step up.

  When the door opens and we step in, a familiar smell washes over me and I’m instantly brought back to the Black Roses Club. The smell of leather, sweat, sex, and alcohol pour over me and I close my eyes, savoring the scent. When I open them, Branson is watching me and I let a brilliant grin show. He smiles, taking my hand and leading me through.

  I feel underdressed, but at least he warned me not to wear the t-shirt. The ladies working all curtsy and nod when we pass. The main area is lowered and darkened, deep mahogany leather furniture with glimmers of candlelight dancing off it. A few hallways and a staircase are to my right and my eyes move quickly, greedy to understand what this place is. There are only a few women around. No loud music, no bar.

  “Is this a… strip club?” I ask him and his mouth twitches up again.

  “Not exactly.”

  Before I can ask any more questions, a woman steps up wearing a long black thing that looks like a cross between a dress and lingerie. Her dark eyes remind me of Jane, though her expression is sensual and light.

  “Welcome to D&S. Are you needing a room this evening?”

  “Yes, please,” he tells her and I narrow my eyes slightly, still not entirely sure what he’s up to. The woman nods and whispers something to another girl before leading us down a long hallway. The first few doors are closed, but as we move through some are open and I have to keep myself from gawking.

  We pass one room where a woman, dressed in full latex, is whipping a man on some kind of cross. In another, a woman is rolling around in pleasure while another pours candle wax all over her. My eyes take in kink after kink as we pass through, and by the time we get to the end, I feel wetness between my thighs at the things I’m seeing. The madame unlocks the door and bows before stepping away. Branson turns to me, taking my arms and looking into my face.

  “This is good? You like it?”

  I look at him quizzically, the smile still playing on my face as I lean forward and kiss him.

  “I don’t know what you want to do where, but yes, I like it.”

  His smile melts my heart and panties before he steps aside, and I actually gasp. A large four-poster bed is in the center of the room, straps and ropes on the corners. To my left is a large armoire in the same deep wood finish as the rest of the furniture. I feel a small pang of guilt when I see the large cross and remember tying Branson up to one very similar.

  It’s like a luxurious gothic playroom and possibly the coolest room I’ve ever seen in my life.

  I turn to Branson and I’m sure my eyes are wide with excitement.

  “Scratch that, I love it,” I tell him and he chuckles as he closes the door, clicking the lock on it. I notice how there’s a panel like I saw in some of the other rooms, and realize if we wanted, we could be ‘open’ for viewing like they were. The thought gives me a zip of thrill.

  “We have this place for the entire night,” he tells me, stepping up until he’s only inches away. My teeth find my lip as I take him in.

  “I wish I had known. I would have dressed up more,” I tell him.

  “You look amazing,” he says simply before his lips find mine and I melt into his touch easily. His kiss is unhurried and thorough. The depths this man would go to please me, to keep me happy, never cease to amaze.

  I step away from him with a grin on my face as I step up to the array of toys laid out for us.

  “Now, what should we play with first?”

  ✽✽✽

  By the time we’re done, my ass and back are both raw and red, and I’m pretty sure I came hard enough at one point that I blacked out.

  Branson lies above me, his hands slowing moving through my hair.

  One of the things I love most about our kinky fun together is the care he shows me after. I’ll take all of his pain and punishment, his control and domination, because I know how he really feels at the end of the day.

  My fucked up, broken man who loves me beyond belief, who can hurt and demean me so that I only feel love.

  Leaning up, I kiss him lightly and take in the peaceful expression on his face.

  “This was an awesome surprise, but do you think we could go home tonight?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Branson

  Though we have the room for the entire night, I’m glad when Mia agrees to go back to the motel. Despite how shitty it is, familiarity is something I need.

  Mia is practically humming with contentment and I have to admit, I did have fun. I’ve been doing more research, trying to figure out more about how to please her. It seems to be working, if her current expression is any indicator.

  It’s closer to dawn than not by the time we are walking through the city streets once more. This time of night appeals to me, with fewer people and more shadows. It’s still intimidating to come during the day, but dealing with crowds is slowly getting easier.

  “What do you t
hink about—”

  A muffled cry comes from the alley we’re passing and Mia stops. We look at each other and wait until the sound is heard again. A slow smile grows on Mia’s lips. Despite my tiredness, I let myself smile and nod to her before following her into the alley.

  The streets of the city are a dangerous place. I’ve heard stories of the victims Mia found in alleys much like this one, though at the time, innocence wouldn’t have been on her radar. Now, hearing the sounds of struggle is like music, a sign that a righteous kill is to come.

  The shadows swallow us immediately, and it doesn’t take long for my night vision to improve. As we move, the adrenaline rises in me and I look over to Mia, whose eyes are sparkling with excitement.

  Another muffled cry, much closer now.

  We turn the bend and I grimace even as the man scrambles to pull up his pants and stand. Beneath him, a woman makes a sound and moves, her skirt pulled up past her waist.

  “F’off s’me feckin’ privacy,” the man says unintelligibly.

  He comes toward Mia and I don’t move, despite how badly I want to gut this scumbag. I know Mia has it, watching as she readies herself for the drunken man’s approach. Behind him, the semi-conscious woman moans again.

  “You like little girls, huh,” she goads him, pulling her knife from the sheath on her back. The man falters at the sight, his face paling as he stumbles to a stop a few feet away. With wide eyes, he turns to leave. Mia laughs, the light sound of it echoing through the alley.

  “Are you going to let him get away?” I ask her teasingly. She winks at me before bringing up the knife between her fingers and aiming, letting loose.

  Thud.

  “Ahhhhh!!”

  The man’s screams echo loudly, and I dart a glance back down the alley.

  “Make this fast,” I tell Mia, keeping my eyes open. She nods, taking a few large steps before pulling the blade from the man's back with a wet slurp. Blood pours steadily, but it's far from a life-threatening wound. His sobs make my headache amplify and I grit my teeth, subtly pulling a bottle from my pocket and taking a few pills out.

  “Awww, did that hurt, precious?” Mia teases as she waves the knife in his face. The man blubbers, snot and tears running down his face as he begs her to not hurt him. She sighs.

  “Mia!” I scold.

  “Fuck, fine,” she says, rolling her eyes before lashing out and dragging the blade across the man’s throat. His complaints are thankfully silenced and replaced with a gurgling sound. A different type of cry has us both looking up to the woman who is now awake and watching us both.

  “P-please don’t hurt me,” the woman says, scrambling further into the pile of garbage she was raped on moments ago. Mia rolls her eyes again and turns her attention back to the man, watching until he slumps over, silent. Mia looks at the woman and then at me and I shake my head. Mia shrugs as though she expected it.

  “Alright, I feel even better now,” she says, jumping up with a smile. Stepping over the man's body, she links her arm back with mine and leans up to kiss me.

  “I’m hungry. Wanna get some breakfast?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Teddy

  My stomach is seriously grumbling by the time we actually get to the small diner. That stupid asshole bled all over me, and I had to change and clean up. It’s about ten in the morning and we haven’t slept, so I’m looking forward to a big meal and a nap.

  “Two?” the tired-looking waitress asks before leading us to a booth. There are maybe a dozen other people, most of which are reading newspapers or watching the TV in the corner.

  “Do you know what you want?” Branson asks me as he puts down his own menu. I know he still gets a thrill from ordering in restaurants.

  “I was thinking….” I trail off as my eyes catch sight of the TV, widening immediately. Branson turns to look just as the woman we saved earlier comes on the screen. It’s too quiet to hear from her, but the bottom of the screen says, “Breaking News” and beside it, “Psychotic Couple Kill Man in Alley.”

  My mouth drops as I see some of the words play out.

  “Killer Couple Connected to Unsolved Thirty-Year-Old Case.”

  A moment later, the screen changes and two fuzzy images of us from last night pop up on the screen. It’s clear they’re blown up and enhanced, but they’re clear enough. My eyes immediately begin to scan the restaurant, but no one seems to be looking at us.

  “We have to leave now,” Branson says, his voice low and light. His skin looks pale, a feat considering how light-toned he is, and I nod before standing quickly. He waits while I put on my sweater. It’s over my head and I’m about to step away when one of the other patrons catches my gaze, his eyes widen as he looks from us to the TV. True recognition hits his eyes only a second before he jumps up.

  “It’s them!” he hollers and most of the other people ignore him, but a few look up. Branson’s hand wraps around my arm, tugging me out of the restaurant quickly just as a few more of the guests start talking, pointing to the TV, whilst a few pull out their phones.

  “Shit.”

  ✽✽✽

  My stomach is still groaning loudly at me while I watch Branson pace. We managed to catch a bit more of the news on our way and confirmed they have connected us with Jane and the fire a few weeks ago. We couldn’t risk going back to the motel and instead darted into the nearby forest. We could go the other way, too, go hide in the depths of the city. Really, we haven’t gotten that far yet.

  “Shit!” Branson says for the dozenth time. He’s run his hand through his hair so many times it's standing on end, but I don’t point it out.

  “It’s okay,” I say again, “We just need to get out of the state for a bit or something.”

  “And how the hell do we do that with our pictures plastered everywhere?”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, going over to him and placing a hand on his arm to stop his pacing. He pauses but breathes deeply out of his nose, his brows pulled into a knot that's been there since he was young, and I know his head is hurting. My hand comes up to trace the side of his face and he lets out a shaky breath, opening his eyes to look into mine.

  “They know what I look like now,” he says, and I nod.

  “We have to leave.”

  I nod again.

  “Now that they know we have something to do with Jane, they won’t stop.”

  He frowns. “What was that about, anyway? The thirty-year-old thing? Do you know?”

  I breathe out my nose and nod, this time slowly, but don’t reply right away. I consider what I’ve learned about Jane over the years and how much to tell Branson. Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t had this conversation sooner, but I’ve been so happy I haven’t wanted to think about it.

  “What?” he asks impatiently.

  “It’s just… have you ever heard the name Robert Ketis?”

  His brows knit together to a frown and he shakes his head.

  “Who is that?”

  “How much do you know about Jane’s mom?”

  “Fuck, Mia, just assume I know nothing and fucking tell me!”

  I hold my hands up in mock surrender.

  “Shit, okay. Well, Sharon Ketis is Jane’s mother and the one who owned the antique business. Robert Ketis was Sharon’s husband, but not Jane’s father.” I step away, pacing as I recall the details. “I’m not sure, but I think something happened to Jane’s real dad. Sharon remarried to this guy, Robert, to save the antique business. He was a doctor, seemed alright on paper, but I have a feeling he wasn’t very good to Jane, if you know what I mean. Robert had a son who had the same name, but they didn’t call him that.”

  Branson’s eyes widen. “Bud?”

  I nod. “Robert and Sharon both died around the same time, around thirty years ago.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  I shake my head. “No, but I can guess.”

  He nods too, “Fair enough. So, you think she killed them back then and
the police are connecting this all now?”

  I shrug. “It’s the best I have. The timeline is about right, and I saw newspapers with a missing person notice for Sharon and Robert in Jane’s desk. If they never found them but did now, it might raise some questions.”

  I watch Branson’s face as he considers this before I clear my throat.

  “There’s one more thing I want to tell you.”

  He turns to me, his brown eyes searching deep into mine.

  “There… there was a picture in Jane’s desk too. Of Robert Ketis.”

  “And?”

  “And he looked like you,” I say, watching his face closely. His nostrils flare and I see the wheels turning, the recognition. That he suffered two decades for a dead man’s sins.

  “Branson?” I ask after a moment, unable to read the darkness that’s written across his face. His eyes snap back to mine.

  “We should wait,” he replies. “Let’s wait until dark and head back to the motel to grab our stuff.”

  “Okay,” I reply with a wan smile, which he returns. I told him what I needed to. What he does with it is up to him.

  A few bird songs ring out behind us and it's only then I realize how beautiful of a spot this is. There’s a light chill to the air, but the sun is shining through the thick trees, making the dewy forest glisten. I look at Branson and his pale skin and my smile grows.

  “Since we have some time to kill, how about a walk?”

  He gives me a small smile and a nod, taking my offered hand. I happen to know these forests go for a long time and, as a matter of fact, if we walked long enough, we’d end up back at Jane’s. Branson hasn’t spent much time outdoors, but I’ve spent many afternoons wandering these woods.

  “I don’t suppose either of us ever had much chance of a normal life,” I say conversationally. Branson slows his step beside me, but we keep walking, hand in hand. “I think, if not for, or, you know, all of it, I would have wanted to work and live outside, somewhere like this.”