Choose Me, Love Me

Part 12

Grays POV

The darkness closed in around me, thick and suffocating, and I could feel Brett's presence like a shadow creeping through the walls of my mind. In my dream, he was there, lurking. My body froze, fear tightening in my chest. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't escape.

I screamed for my mom, the way I used to when I was younger—back when I still believed she'd come and save me. But she never came. She didn't even look back.
"Momma!" I cried, over and over again, the word tearing from my throat like it would somehow save me. "Please... please help me..."

Brett's laughter echoed in the distance, closer now. The fear in my veins turned to fire, burning, burning everywhere, and I couldn't make it stop. I wanted it to stop.
"Momma! It hurts!" I screamed, the panic choking me. "Please, Brett, stop... please don't touch me. It hurts..."

I thrashed, trying to get away, but the walls of the nightmare kept closing in. There was no escape.

Somewhere, in the fog of my terror, I heard voices—familiar ones. Jude? Peyton? No, it couldn't be. No one ever came. No one ever helped.
I screamed again.

Jude's Point of View
I woke up to the sound of screaming, a voice so desperate, so full of terror, that it shot me upright in bed.

"Momma! Please help me! It hurts!"
It was Gray.

Before I could even register what was happening, Peyton was already out of bed, and we rushed down the hall toward Gray's room. The sound of his cries was gut-wrenching, and my heart pounded as I threw open the door.

Gray was tangled in his blankets, thrashing and crying out, delirious with fear. His face was wet with tears, his voice breaking as he pleaded for someone—anyone—to save him.
"Please, Brett, stop! Don't touch me! I don't want to be hurt!" His voice was hoarse from crying, and it hit me like a punch to the gut.

Peyton moved first, kneeling beside him and shaking him gently. "Gray, wake up! You're safe, you're with us. It's just a dream."
But Gray didn't hear us. He was lost in his nightmare, trapped in whatever hellish memory was replaying in his mind. He was crying so hard, I wasn't sure he was even breathing properly. "It hurts... it hurts..." he sobbed, curling into himself like a wounded animal.

Peyton, his voice breaking, lifted Gray into his arms, cradling him like he was something fragile, something that could shatter at any moment. "Shh, you're safe, you're safe. I'm here. Jude's here. No one's going to hurt you."

Gray kept crying, his small body shaking, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest. His cries, his pleas, were ripping Peyton apart. I could see it in his eyes as he held this boy, gently rocking him, whispering soft reassurances.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Gray's sobs began to subside. His breathing evened out, and he slowly slipped back into sleep, exhausted from the terror that had gripped him so fiercely. He was still trembling in Peyton's arms, but the worst of it had passed.

Peyton and I sat there for a long moment, just holding him, trying to recover from the nightmare that wasn't ours, but felt like it could have been. Peyton's face was streaked with tears, and I reached up to wipe them away.

"I didn't expect this," Peyton whispered, his voice rough. He looked down at Gray, still cradled in his arms, seeming small and vulnerable. "But I swear to God, I'm going to find the fucker who did this. And his mother... the one who let it happen... they're going to pay for what they did to him."

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. "We'll protect him. We're not letting this happen again."

Peyton glanced at me, eyes full of fierce determination, and then we both looked down at Gray—so peaceful now, after the storm. We couldn't undo the past, but we could make sure his future was different.