The Secret Life - Sex and Blood anyone?

Sex, Secrets, and Lies ((Part 6))

~Chey's POV~

I woke up in a soft bed with nobody next to me. I blinked a few times and looked around, where the hell was I?

I hadn't slept that well in so long so my mind was taking a while to pull together. Suddenly all the events of the following night crashed into my head and I sat up quickly, ripping my shirt up. My stomach still had a little pout to it, but other than that it was shrunken, small again. There was some dried blood on my legs and the sheet under me, but nothing fresh.

The holes in the mattress were seeping foam. I knew I had to cover up what happened here...the birth of her, of Jasmine, of my baby. I got off the bed and ripped all the blankets and sheets off and then totally flipped the mattress over so the holes would be covered up. Then, I shoved all the bedding under the bed and went into the bathroom to shower off all the nastiness on me.

All the dried blood and gook from birth washed down the drain and I felt like I was washing that part of me away so I could make myself prepared for what I had to do now.

I broke into several rooms before I left until I found one that had woman's clothes. After showering and changing I felt better than I had in a while so I started back for the place I had been trying so hard to get away from, James' den.

It took a while to get back and all the while I had this feeling to just turn and run, run as far away as I could get, but I couldn't do that because I had more on the line now than ever. When I finally got to the house I took a deep breath and went right inside, right into the belly of the beast.

James was no where to be found, he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, the back rooms. I looked and looked and then finally went to the bedroom, thinking he couldn't possibly still be sleeping...I had been wrong. James was on the bed, curled up in a ball, he had the pillow I usually used wrapped in his arms possessively. If I didn't know who he was or everything he has done I would almost think that this scene was cute.

There was no time to contemplate anything in my head now, I had to act and get this over with. I clutched the knife in my hand tightly, it was a butchers knife that I had found in the kitchen during my search for James. I crept up on the bed, inching closer and closer to him until I was almost standing directly over him.

I raised the knife over my head and looked at his still form, and that's when it hit me; this was way too easy to be real.

In one motion I would have this knife through his chest and into his heart and then I would leave it there and he would be dead, forever. I would even bury him if that was what it took; but it wasn't suppose to be this easy.

I thought about that for just a second longer and then thought "maybe just this once I'm getting a break" and brought the knife down into his chest, only it never got there because the last second he rolled out of the way and tackled me to the ground by the knees.

I cried out and stabbed blindly; the knife went all the way into his shoulder and then got imbedded there. James cried out in pain and sat up, pulling at the knife. I took this time to scoot backwards and get away from him, run towards the door and out to safety.

I knew it had been too easy. I knew that he wouldn't still be asleep. I knew, I knew, I knew; I knew him too well. Like right now I knew he would take the short cut to the kitchen because he figured that was the first place I would go to get another weapon, and I was going to, but knowing that he knew I would, I changed my mind and last second turned for the living room.

There was a fire pitchfork there, Iron, so I grabbed a hold of it and whirled around to face James. It took him a few seconds to catch up with me in the living room and I could see his eyes were a dark orangey red color, he was enjoying a hunt. I held the pitchfork up on defense and moved so the couch and coffee table were between us, though if he wanted to, those would be no obstacles for him.