T⃨u⃨r⃨n⃨ O⃨n⃨ T⃨h⃨e⃨ N⃨i⃨g⃨h⃨t⃨ | The Lost Boys

C⃨H⃨A⃨P⃨T⃨E⃨R⃨ N⃨I⃨N⃨E⃨

I woke up with the taste of blood on my tongue, unaware that the memory of those lips would haunt me for the next few days.

When I ran into the boys on the board walk that next evening, I felt that memory and at night, my dreams blurred the lines of what I'd experienced. Those lips would trail down my body, biting and nibbling before being joined by a friend or two. The bites were sharp, never gentle, and they always left behind a feeling of pain.

Eventually, I began to notice a pattern.

Every time I saw one of the boys, the dreams would come. I'd fall asleep thinking about blazing orange eyes and fear, only for the dreams to shift and turn immoral. Teeth would bury themselves in my throat and hands would wind themselves deep into the tangled strands of my orange hair. And every night, taloned fingers would trail and cut their way down my chest, crawling ever closer to the destination I craved before disappearing like the faintest touch of wind as laughter echoed in the air.

For days, I'd wake up hot— suffering from constant teases that only seemed to grow the more time I spent with the boys.

I swore they were aware of it as well. Like bloodhounds on the quest for prey, they were always there after my shifts, waiting for me and Laddie at the door. They never stole me away for long, usually only taking me and my son out to dinner before walking us back to the truck. But the touches had grown braver, fingers slipping against skin whenever they found the chance.

Ultimately though, a familiarity grew.

I guessed that they finally succeeded in their ploy— my fear of them continued, but it was mild. Distrust still bubbled, but that too was tempered by experience. I began to expect them in my life and the fight I put up against their insistence had turned muted and ineffective.

If I had been aware of the extent of my surrender, I would have realized I'd initiated my downfall.

~*~

It was a few days after my first encounter with all the boys and my next shift at Seaside's Snacks was frustratingly late in the day.

While I managed to squeeze in a bit of free time with Laddie due to the delay, I also missed the lunchtime rush and subsequent tips. Since two o'clock, the only customers I'd had the pleasure of seeing were a few old ladies and an older man who toted around a duffle bag with the head of a taxidermized raccoon peeking out.

It was a sad fact that his presence had been the most interesting thing to happen all day.

Propping my chin on my palm, I scowled at the clock hanging across the store, "Christ, it's only seven?"

I had another two hours before I was off the clock. Sparing a glance outside, I grimaced. The boardwalk was picking up with life and sooner or later the night group would wander in. I could only hope that my replacement popped in before the drunkards did.

"Yup," Laddie answered. He'd sprawled out on the booth about an hour ago to read a comic and now his eyes peered beseechingly at me, "I'm bored, mom."

"Tell me about it, dude," I hopped on the counter, shoving a few menus out of my way, "What are you reading?"

"Green Lantern," Laddie waved the comic in the air, "I found it outside."

I stared at him, a bland look overtaking my expression, "Like found it found it or found it?"

"Found it found it!" His voice pitched in incredulity, little eyes wide in a strange mix of humor and horror, "I don't steal!"

"Uh-huh," I snorted, tucking my legs under my thighs as I gave him a sharp grin, "What about that time in Jacksonville?"