Brodi wasn't sure when he was finally able to fall asleep after his last incident. Somewhere between Elise's arms around him, the scent of her lotion, and the soothing lull of her voice, he was finally able to just let go.
"My poor baby. Did they hurt you? Let me take care of it."
Brodi's eyes shot open in terror and confusion. "Lauryll?" he gasped. "Lauryll, what are you doing?"
"Taking care of you. Coby's just jealous of you, gorgeous, although I do wish he and Danny weren't so rough with you. Let's see if I can't make you feel better."
He felt her weight on the bed beside him, felt her hand inside his knee and moving up his leg. He tried to move, but he could do nothing but lay there as his body betrayed him once more.
"Lauryll, please stop. Don't do this." Damn it, why couldn't he move?
"But you're so ready for me, see? Doesn't that feel good?"
"Lauryll," he gasped, exhausted from the effort of trying to move. "Please, stop. You can let me go."
He still couldn't move. He strained, fought desperately. Why was this happening? HOW was this happening? He had gone to sleep in Elise's bed. This was a stray memory from years ago coming to the forefront of his mind because of the days events and his exhaustion. That had to be it.
"It's not real." He told himself. "It can't be real."
"Of course it is."
He felt her weight on top of him—Buddha help him, he couldn't breathe. But he had to breathe—he had to focus on anything except his body's betrayal. DAMN IT, why couldn't he move? Drugs, it was the drugs; Coby's father had been a neurosurgeon, and an unwitting supplier to the tools for his son's illicit hobbies. But this wasn't real. None of it was real. He took in a deep breath, trying to latch on to the scent of Elise's lotion. It was somewhere close—it had to be.
"DON'T DO THIS."
Finally he broke through, sitting up in a desperate cold sweat.