Wild One (A Jason McCann Love Story)

Chapter Sixteen: Discrete

CAUTION: This chapter contains material regarding sexual assault (That may trigger for victims of assault. And for that, I apologize eternally) and mild drug use. Reader discretion is advised. (And also, I might change Wild One's rating.) - Live_To_Dance

Jason

My eyes fluttered open. I then remembered how great it felt to wake up after a long sleep. I felt like everything was renewed and whole at that moment. But then, I began to noticed.

The sweet, floral, and allover feminine scent of Amia wasn't there. There were only remnants, scattered across the carpet and the bed and some bits near the sink. I didn't hear noise come from the bathroom. Her Cheeto trash was in a foil ballon the counter.

I didn't feel her arms wrap around me as I woke up.

I didn't feel anything. Yet, she was everywhere and no where. Almost like a ghost. But, that was wishful thinking.

Amia was gone.

I shook off the blankets in a rage. My fur was beginning to grow, my nails pointing out, my fangs began to bare. My scream filled the room, echoed. It bounced off the other walls of the motel and came straight back to me as I stomped across the floor, letting out sobs that I would never admit that I had set free.

I cried. For the first time in my life, I was crying. My tears, ascending down my face. Waterworks. I was pathetic.

I began punching the wall, crying some more. My fists left large prints in a now broken wall that I wouldn't ever pay for. The last thing I cared about was paying for property damage.

I didn't give a fuck, and I had made up my mind at that moment.

I would find her, bring her back. Hide her. Kill them. Their blood would be on my hands and I would revel in it. I would rejoice as their heads lay on the ground, bodies elsewhere. I would eat them alive and use their skin as carpet.

I couldn't waste another second at that place. All I took with me was my coat and my faith that maybe, just maybe, Amia would still be alive.

The parking lot was hardly crowded, a ghost town. The only form of life near was a near twenty-five year old woman. A waitress with no shame.

Her blonde hair was ratty and up and she hid her body under a blue and white old-fashioned uniform. She was smoking a blunt right there in the parking lot and it had the smell of rotten skunk.

"Hey!" She yelled at me from behind as I passed, waving at me. I couldn't figure out what the hell she wanted. But, I didn't want to hear her annoying voice say another word.

It only took a second.

Her head was separated from her body. Her torso was slashed, my talons doing. The blood gushed like a morbid fountain. And I stood there, staring, holding the blunt in-between my blood-stained fingers.

And without a single sense of shame or guilt for what I had just done, I took a drag of it and sighed loudly, unashamed. And I began to feel a euphoric feeling take me over. I was temporarily calm.

...

Amia

A cold breeze was falling over me and silence fell in the room. It was like this for a time. My body, calm. My mind, restless. Thoughts of Jason possibly coming to my side and taking me away from the god-awful place had flourished. The man told me he would never come and that he gave me up. I was unsure.

I felt my bits of makeup that had survived melted off my face from the surplus of tears that had been shed in the matter of one grueling hour. And I felt all of the cold air washing over me again. Every particle. My felt as cold as ice and ached more then I ever thought possible.

My body was covered by nothing more then the ropes that consumed my wrists and ankles. The bed swallowed me. And his toys and weapons were scattered all around. I felt them, resting on my legs.

One was still vibrating against me, pressing inward at my core, making me feel a strange cocktail or emotion. A euphoric state of terror, pleasure, and sadness. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that most of that was drug-induced. And at that second, I began to felt it coming again. I whispered no, trying to stop it. But, it came anyway.

My muscles contracted, my orgasm builded up and up and up, and then it fell. I fell. A tear trickled down my face and my wetness poured down, collecting into a puddle between my legs. It was right below where the man was. His fingers. His tongue. His core. The predator that I was sure I would never, ever escape from.

My orgasm subsided, and I, without anymore rejection, waited for another. Because, I couldn't scream any more.

...

Jason

When I was locked away, I didn't do drugs for two years. But I would always think about what it would be like to do them when I was out. When I was actually free from the disgusting, virulent, hell-hole they call prison.

Finally, my lips took over it. I had a joint in between my lips and I had almost forgotten what it smelt like. It was like cigarettes, but more pungent and it hit you like a brick wall. And when I smelt it, my heartbeat subsided. My turning began to stop and the world was slow-moving for a minute.

And for a second, I almost forgot about how much I was worrying. But, even being high couldn't patch things. It couldn't ease my mind or my pain for long. I thought that Amia was like a toy at first.

Almost like when you're a kid and you lose your favorite toy. You take it everywhere, you talk to it, it keeps you company when you think you have no one else. And then, you lose it.

So, you try to fool yourself into thinking it isn't lost. It's "temporarily miss-placed" you reiterate. But, you know in the back of your mind that you won't get it back. You left it. You forgot. Or maybe, just maybe, someone stole it.

My stomach churned slowly, my blood boiling.

I sat in my battered car, slamming my head against the wheel, repeating that one word. And all I could whisper from my chapped, damned lips was a simple curse word. Because nothing fit this situation more.

"Fuck."

And if I didn't move soon, if I didn't find her, if I waited too long, I would definitely be fucked.

...

Please Read ( Authors Note ) : I would really like your opinion on the latest chapters of Wild One. Please comment your thoughts. I'm open to constructive criticism and any ideas you may have. Let me know. And by the way, I really do appreciate the support. You guys read my stuff and it reminds me that I'm still good for something. Thank you for the support all these years :) - Lacey/ Live_To_Dance