Butterfly Kisses (mxm | mpreg)

11.

A little over a week had passed- or at least that's what it felt like. HE had come down a total of 26 times since I'd been here, counting days each time the lights were turned off. We had very little room to move and Bennett would be forcefully taken from me each morning, given a beating, and sent off to what my pup said was school. HE hadn't touched me at all, the most would be him in a drunken stupor, looking at me with a skin-crawling grin and empty eyes. He was clearly sick, but thankfully not sick enough to touch me in THAT way, only a few hair grabbings and beating every now and then. 

With what little water I had that leaked from pipes, I would always bathe my baby, wiping the dirt off of him and trying to clean any blood he had from him with scrapes from the blanket I'd been given. We got bags of bread thrown down at us every now and again, and it was what I was living off of at nearly 8 and 3/4ths months pregnant. Water bottles also were sent down occasionally. 

I sat holding my baby in my arms, pressing little kisses to Bennett's grimy hair, my own hygiene long forgotten once I began to use the shitty hole dug deep into the corner. He had his own room, that's where the blanket came from, but he wasn't allowed up there often, either sent down with me for punishment or sleeping down here for comfort. 

The door latch squeaked open and He was there, smiling with ropes and cuffs in his hands "You've been so good... you get to move today" I panicked but silently prayed that meant I'd see the light of day, or even possibly escape. I allowed myself to be tied up, the rope from my neck unlatched from the wall as I was tugged up the stairs, my legs wobbly as Bennett clung to me, shaking in fear. 

I was led to a tiny bedroom, almost as small as a closet, with no windows, and a small child's bed and chair. There was a ratty backpack, one with faded paw patrol on it that I assumed to be Bennetts. This could work. I was tied back up, the rope long having left ugly marks and scarring on my neck from the tugging I did. Bennet was shoved in with me, the tiny light bulb above my head crackling to life "Have him ready for school" I nodded and swallowed, moving as much as I was allowed to and helping my baby up keeping my voice low and pet Bennett's head "Bennett, baby, are there any nice teachers that you like at school?" he nodded "Uh-huh..." I breathed in relief "Okay sweetheart I need you to tell them that mama is here okay? Tell them that I've been stolen and am hurt." Bennett's eyes widened and he nodded in fear "O-okay..." I nodded, my heart was full of fear and hope as he left the tiny room, the lock clicking in place from Him. 

---

I heard a phone ringing and flinched, calming down my beating heart as I heard a hearty laugh from the house, and then angry stomping towards the room- I was shivering as it slammed open, my hair getting grabbed as I was choked out from the rope, my vision going spotty. He was screaming at me, beating me with his fists, and even shattering a beer bottle against my face, blood dripping down onto the floor. I was sobbing, clearly understanding what had happened. They'd called him, asking for an explanation. I was hopeless, my sight and hearing going in and out as the door slammed shut, blacking out within seconds. 

-

I woke up to Bennett's beaten and snotty face, he'd clearly been crying, but his voice was muffled, I touched my ears and hissed, it was painful and sticky with blood. Not good. I held him close, rubbing his back and tilting the ear that heard best towards him, picking up on the words "T-th..y s.D I w- ly-n..g" I rocked him gently "It's okay, It's okay..." I could still feel the glass in my wounds and my head was throbbing, but Bennett needed me right then. Hope had drained from me, as tears rolled down my face as well.

-----

More weeks went by. I'd stopped counting, any and all maternity instincts haywire, coupled with the survival ones kicking in as well I was practically feral. My hearing had all but gone, the ear hit with the bottle clearly infected as well as the other one, pain constantly throbbing in my jaw and temples. Pressing the ear of what was left against the door, I heard and felt the door shut. HE was gone. And he didn't lock the door. 

I scrambled to saw off the rope I'd been chewing on, my teeth and nails bleeding as I did so, panic in my veins at what little time I had left, with a sharp tug taking it off the wall. I stumbled up, my belly heavy as I tried to support it, most of the weight I'd gained gone, leaving me dizzy and all too skinny for a pregnant omega. The door opened with ease- no one was home. The lights were dim and I went right for the door, slamming it open and tripping over the steps, rocks ripping into my feet as I sprinted across the street that had many cars in the driveway and lights on, banging on the door with hoarse cries. 

HE had seen me, cussing and yelling as he ran after me, making me pound the door harder. He was right behind me as it opened, without thinking I shoved past the woman and ran inside, collapsing on the softest rug I'd ever felt and breathing hard, quiet yelling and screaming around me.

I made it.