Powerless

Chapter 8

author's note: hello there's a week time jump here hehe also if you like this story please comment/vote!!!! it means so much when yall do :,) 

ps trigger warning blood/violence/mentions of death and trauma - but just at the beginning! 

and then liiight inklings of smut, idk i wanted this to be a real story and not just porn without plot (or a cliche romance) but i promise more smut is coming next chapter

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The deep baritone of the Johnny Cash soundtrack travels from your CD player to your headphones, humming along to the songs your dad used to play when he would pick you up from pre-school. 

You'd laugh at the way he'd tap his hand on the steering wheel with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, voice lowering to match the singer's bass. At just four years old, you didn't see him for what he was - a troubled, dangerous man driving 80 mph in a 45-zone with a toddler in the front seat sans seatbelt. He was just your dad. 

When he left a year later, you kept his CD case, growing up on classic rock and country in an effort to feel close to him. As you sit on the floor of your room, singing under your breath and highlighting your biology textbook - you're lost in your own world. 

The thunder in the background is drowned out by the music. So is the sound of the door breaking down. And the yelling. And the first gunshot. 

Between songs, your mother calls your name from downstairs, voice shrill and laced with fear. She says something you can't quite make out as you run toward the steps, collapsing in terror at the sight of your mother laying on the living room floor, blood pooling around her body. 

In an instant, the assailant shoots her again, a fatal blow. Your older sister, frozen in front of the gunman, lets out a wretched sob as a bullet enters her chest. A crack of lightning makes you squeal, causing the man to turn around and see your shaking frame cowering behind the stair railing. 

"Dad?" you cry out as his finger pulls the trigger, no remorse evident on his face. Thinking quick, you collapse to the ground, hand on the wound as you lay still. Playing dead like an animal being hunted. 

His footsteps get closer, and you can feel his intimidating figure looming over your vulnerable one. With a sigh, he shoots again. 

****

Gasping for air, you shoot up, chest heaving. Spencer immediately wakes, sitting up and pulling you into his arms, sweet shushing noises leaving his lips. 

"Same one?" he asks, already knowing the answer. For the past week, he had slept in your bed every night - witnessing your whimpers of distress and sleep-crying. You nod, inhaling sharply in an effort to calm down, a process he expedites by placing kisses on your temple. "You're safe now, alright? He can't hurt you ever again, Y/N" 

"It was the same this time, just replaying what happened," your lower lip quakes as you lean into him. Spencer lays the two of you back down, arms staying firmly planted around your shaking body. "But then he shot me again. He knew I was pretending and killed me." 

"It was just a nightmare, sweet girl," he says softly. The pet name, generally reserved for situations where he's got you pinned down and begging to cum, makes your heart flutter. You nod, tilting your head up to kiss him. "I'm here with you, try to think of something else" 

You want to say it right then. The three words you've been holding back for even longer than you realized. 

But your arrangement, if that's what to even call it, the past week has been too perfect to risk losing. Especially right now, literally locked in a compound together. If you told him, there's a chance it would end.