Awkwardly figuring out how to stand, Oakley’s whimper was a half sob, as I moved. I didn’t bother to try to hush him. It’d just fall on deaf ears. When I was standing, I cursed his skirt. It prevented me from getting him to wrap his legs around me. So, instead, I slipped a hand under both legs, holding him that way.
Carefully going up the stairs, I made it to the bedroom without tripping or running into anything. Deciding that it’d be best to try to get the boy to go pee, I went straight to the bathroom.
It took even more maneuvering to get Oakley to stand long enough for me to get his skirt off, and get him to sit on the toilet. All the while, he had to touch me, seeking me out in any way he possibly could.
Not that I minded, just, not exactly a thing I enjoyed while I tried to coax him to pee.
The thought of putting a diaper on him was there since I did have a few on hand. But brushed it off just as quickly. That would be anyone’s hard limit, and the boy should be aware of what was happening before then.
“Walk, honey,” I helped him to stand, needing to pee myself before I was stuck in the bed for who knows how long. He whimpered, pressing against my side. “I have to pee, pretty boy.”
He nodded but didn’t move, other than to breathe.
I sighed through my nose, looking up at the ceiling for answers that I couldn’t find.
“Please?” I asked. “Walk to the bed. I’ll be there in just a minute.”
Finally, after another full minute, Oakley stepped away. A quiet sob was lodged in his throat, and I would have pulled him back to me if I didn’t have to pee so freaking badly.
I used the bathroom as quickly as I could, took off my snot-covered shirt, and crawled into bed after making sure I still had the boy’s pacifier.
I didn’t get much time to settle before Oakley was in my lap once more, his bare butt against mysleep pants I had yet to change out of. My shirt on him at least covered his front bits, and I made a mental note that he needed shorts or something if he wanted to keep wearing my clothes.
“I’m right here, little one.” I wrapped him back up in my arms, letting him settle against my chest. His legs ended up wrapping around my hips, holding me tightly, as if I’d disappear. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“Monster’s want me.” He whimpered, rubbing his nose against my chest.
“I won’t let them have you. You’re mine.” I pressed a kiss to his temple. “You’re my boy. My little Oakley.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, sweetheart.”
Could I press for more information on those monsters he talked about? Would he tell me? Or would it be too much?
“They hurt.”
“Not anymore.” I squeezed him to me tighter.
So softly, as if he was fed up with them, fed up with himself, Oakley began to talk. I had to strain to hear his voice over the rush of fear and anger that swam to the surface at his words.
“Donny liked them. He called them to me. Said I was bad and deserved their cold fingers. They left burns….” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but held back. “They scare me. Please, make them leave me alone. They hide in the dark; they hide outside, waiting for me to come out. They call me, and taunt me, and…and…”
“No more, little one. Da-I got you. I promise they can’t get to you ever again. When they try, you cometo me and I’ll scare them off. No matter what time of day or night.”
Were the monsters part of the things Donny did to him? Was Oakley drugged, forced to endure things that were made to be what a monster would do, so Donny didn’t have to be truthful about how much of a monster he was?
“Donny’s dead, so he can’t control those monsters anymore. He can’t make them come get you.”
At that, Oakley settled, like everything was taken care of. To me, it wasn’t, but I sure hope to him, it was. I hoped beyond anything, his nightmares would cease, and he’d finally start to heal, start to accept a life I could supply him.
I jerked, startled, when Oakley’s lips found a nipple, pulling it into his mouth and sucking.
It tickled and took me a moment to regain my sanity. Instead of pulling him away, giving him the option of a pacifier instead of me, I put a hand on his head, holding him to me.
Chapter 22
Oakley
