Page 54 of His Pet

“Fuck, Justin.” Cameron sighs. “What can I do to fix this? I want you back.”

“You have me.” Doesn’t he see it? Dream-Cameron is silly. “You’re the one who keeps leaving.” I’d never say that to real Cameron, but I can be bold in a dream.

“You’re right. I fucked up. Let’s talk. Not here, though.”

Talking sounds exhausting, but Cameron is still holding me, so I snuggle into his side and let the dream continue. He takes me through the door I spent so long watching. My imagination sucks, because instead of something exciting, there’s just a mundane staircase on the other side. Cameron practically pulls me up, my feet stumbling over the steps. I try to help, but my legs don’t seem interested in cooperating.

Another door, and we’re in a spacious hallway. It doesn’t look familiar, which is odd. I thought dreams were pieced together from things you’ve seen before. Maybe I’ve seen this place in a movie. Or a documentary on how super rich folk live, because this place looks straight from the High&Mighty catalogue. It’s huge and modern. One entire wall of the living room is made of glass, and behind it…

Sun.

My vision blurs with tears as I stare at the garden bathed in sunlight. I’m afraid to blink, scared that the dream will take me somewhere else or that I’ll wake up.

I never thought I’d see the sun again. I was so convinced of it I haven’t even dreamed about it. Cameron promised I wouldn’t leave that basement alive, and I believed him. My mind must be truly far gone to be dreaming up something so beautiful.

The lawn is perfectly manicured and dotted with an occasional bush or a flowerbed. The low sun casts long shadows across the lawn, the sky is an explosion of oranges and pinks. No clouds are in sight, and I even glimpse a lone star.

A few tears make their way down my cheeks when I’m finally forced to blink. Fortunately, the garden is still there when I open my eyes again. “It’s so beautiful.”

In a clumsy attempt to get closer, I trip over my blanket and only Cameron’s quick reflexes save me from crashing into a glass coffee table. Even in a dream, I’m a klutz.

“Careful there,” Cameron says. “It’s quite cold outside, but we can go there for a moment if you want.”

“Yes, please!” I should be able to dream up being warm, right?

Wrong. The chilly air slams into me the moment Cameron slides open the door and we step onto the patio. I ignore my chattering teeth and rush forward, eager to feel the grass under my feet. God, this all feels so real! I plop down on the ground and run my hands over the grass, marveling at how it tickles my palms.

The sun is clearly rising, because by the time Cameron throws a few more blankets over me, it has climbed a few inches above the wall surrounding the property. I bring my knees to my chest and snuggle into the fluffy warmth dream-Cameron has bestowed on me. One of the blankets is thick and a little itchy. Maybe made of wool? My grandma had one like that, only older and itchier. Another is definitely fleece, all soft and plush. It’s insane how detailed this dream is. Almost like…

No, that’s crazy.

But what if it’s not?

“Is this a dream?” I find myself asking. Do I even want to know?

Cameron crouches in front of me. He’s put on a hoodie and sneakers, like he was cold too. Do dream characters get cold?

“Justin, this is not a dream,” he says seriously, his dark eyes boring into mine.

Not a dream. The grass is real. The sun… Oh my god, the sun warming my skin is real. But if it’s not a dream, then why am I outside? Cameron said I would never leave the basement alive, and he keeps his word, which means there’s only one reason for me to be here.

He’s about to kill me.

“Oh.”

Cameron cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?” God, he’s so handsome when he smiles. It’s not fair. “I thought you’d be a little more excited.”

The idea of being excited about my impending death should be ridiculous, and yet… It’s really not. I’m too tired to be alive. And I got to see the sun. That’s a bonus I didn’t expect. To be honest, my only worry is how much it’s going to hurt. Cameron likes his teasing, edging, and spanking, but he never struck me as a true sadist. Maybe he’ll make it quick. “Can you?” Oh, did I say that out loud?

“Can I what? Come on, Justin, focus. I’m here. You’re here. Talk to me.”

Right. I suppose I should articulate my last wish better. “Can you make it quick?”

Cameron frowns. “Quick? Oh, you must be cold. We can go back in—”

“No!” If I’m dying, I can get away with a little disrespect. “I want to see the sun when I die. I just… Will it hurt?”

“Will it…” Cameron trails off, staring at me. His jaw drops as his expression clears. “You think I brought you here to kill you?!” His face drains of color.