The Orphan Maker (P12)

151 1 0
                                    


Warnings - serial killer, kidnapping, possessive, toxic, stalking, destruction of property, switching POVs, bad dream, mentions of abuse, unhealthy desires

I was nearly skipping as I lead her to the car. She was really here and coming home with me. I drove carefully, never wanting her in a second of danger. She'd seen my jealous possessive side and hadn't hated me. This was wonderful. She was finally understanding.

"Welcome home," I said sweetly. I opened the door and she gasped. The house looked very odd, I had to agree. There were many smashed things, but also, I'd gone on a wild shopping spree to convince myself she'd be coming home with me. Baby paraphernalia covered the house.

"Timothée, were you really that devastated?" She asked, turning to me with worry in her expression.

"Of course, it was like you ripped my heart out and took it with you," I told her earnestly.

"Oh angel, I'm sorry," She said, and caressed my face. I kissed her deeply.

"But now, once I clean up, the kids can have an expanded Heaven!" I said eagerly and began to get to work tidying, they wouldn't mind the piles of baby things, it wouldn't damage their mind like the broken dishes and furniture. She tried to help, managing to bend down before I could get her.

"No, no," I said reproachfully. "You're pregnant, and I made the mess."

I cleaned quickly, eager to release our children. Soon I had thrown the door open, and I grabbed baby Savanna from Sara, and told her the children were to come see mommy.

"Could I hold her?" She asked, pointing to baby Savanna. I nodded and passed the bundle to her, feeling tears well as I looked at the picture before me.

Reader's POV

"He promised you'd come back," Sara plopped beside me, and laid a head on my arm. Her skin was warm and soft, and she smelled like lavender. He truly was treating them well.

"I didn't believe him, because a lot of time people don't, but you did!" She said, clapping her small hands.

"Yes, I came home," I smiled and noticed Timothée was tearing up. Next Timothée had their dance party. Wild Celtic music played as he danced with them until he was drenched in sweat. He helped them all bathe, except some of the older ones showered. He showered too, and then we were in a big pile of pillows and small bodies. He pulled me in next to him, and kissed my temple before falling fast asleep. He'd no doubt need to be up with Savanna in an hour or two. How did he do it all?

When I was sure they were all out. I crawled out of my lover's arms. I went to his front door and opened it. Cold night air made me shiver, I'd been so warm in the pile of bodies, pillows, and blankets.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked, and I turned. I felt like the grinch with Cindy Loo Who. Would I break her heart? I could take her with me. I could run with her, but how would I pay for both of us, and a baby? I could take his car, but he was surely tracking it, however his exhaustion could give me a head start. I could sell the car to throw him off my scent. Ideas swirled in my head and I realized I didn't want to do a single one of them.

"Needed some fresh air, being pregnant can be uncomfortable," I said with a smile. I took her by the hand and led her back to where we'd been.

As I fell asleep I worried. He had so many children, all who would most likely eventually need serious therapy. How could he do it? A mental health professional would clock their story as odd right away even if they used the adoption angle. Plus there was schooling, and other aspects of life. He couldn't keep them sequestered here. What would he do?

Timothée's POV

I woke up panting from a nightmare where y/n had somehow both been my girlfriend and an abused child. The one version of her kept saying no more killing, while the other was whipped with a belt harshly and cried out for me.

Could I do this? There were so many other kids out there that needed saved. I could be saving other girls and boys who would change someone's life like y/n had mine. I held her tightly.

I had to make her never want to leave, and then perhaps I could sneak around her. Perhaps when she was asleep I could do it. But what about the children? Where could I put them? They could live in the old Heaven maybe, but what stopped y/n from going down there. With enough money to burn I should have a solution somewhere, because I couldnt stop saving children.

Long Timothee Chalamet StoriesWhere stories live. Discover now