Curse Or Greyson Bailey
Copyright © 2021 by A.R.Kingstling
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or
used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for
the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is not intended for anyone under the age of legal adulthood. It
contains graphic sexual scenes, including INTENSE fetish, kink, and BDSM-
This book is intended as fictitious fantasy only.
This book is not intended to be used as a resource for sexual education, or as
an informational guide to sex or BDSM.
The scenes within this book are not meant to depict realistic expectations of
BDSM or fetish-related activities. The book contains self harm, rape etc please read all triggsr warnings above the chapters in no way shape or am I romanticizing Toxic relationships or mental health
I love my mother, I am what people call a mama’s boy, that is why I did it, why I killed my father. Every night as a kid my mother would rush to my room locking me in with a key hiding it somewhere my father would not find. When he got home he would be drunk and high, angry at himself so he’d lash out at my mother beating her because he loved the way she screamed begging him to stop
My mother was diagnosed with dementia due to her trauma. Since she was a little girl she was beaten and raped by her father so at the age of sixteen she ran away meeting my father Austin Bailey at a frat party. Got married in Vegas at age of eighteen had me after two miscarriages she would always tell me I was her little miracle
At the age of fifteen I had enough of my father. I skipped school planning on the perfect way to kill him. I would wait patiently until he began to beat her. I would take my baseball bat that was covered in nails and beat him until I could not recognize who he was. It was time I was in my room opening my closet taking the bat walking out of the room. The anger made my mind blank and my heart racing just to swing the bat towards his head and everything would be fine, my mother would be fine. Raising the bat above my head hitting it against the back of his head repeatedly his blood splattering across my face I loved the sounds of this bones crushing against the nails it made me happy....I loved the feeling of knowing he would never be an issue for me nor my mother
Of Course my mother being god’s angel she rushed over to try to save my father but he was unrecognizable at that point his face bashed in.I would be lying if I said I regret it, i did not and if I had a chance to do it all over again I would this world was already cruel at least I am helping by getting rid of one of its demons.I threw the bat against the wall whipping the blood off my face with the sleeve of my hoodie walking into the bathroom my hands holding each end of the white brick sink taking the cold water splashing it against my face, I sat at my bathtub letting the cold harsh water run down my skin removing all the blood from my skin, watching as the blood filled my tub running down the drain
I walked out my black hair draped over my emerald green eyes, I rolled up the sleeves of my royal blue hoodie. I stopped down looking at my mother in pure amusement, isn’t this what she wanted....to get rid of this monster. She steered in horror, hands covered in blood. They were shaking. My mother looked up at me in disappointment as though I was the monster in her life. She groaned in pain trying to roll his body into the carpet as the tears rolled down her pale cheeks....I looked at the woman who I hardly recognized. Never would I have thought she would be the type of person to know what exactly to do with a body, she stayed up all night scrubbing the blood off the floor as her cries were stifled . the next day I woke up to her planting roses over his body in the backyard, I knew I did the right thing it was the best thing for her my father hurt her if I would have sit back and watch as he beat her or worse kill her
It has been five years since I killed him, I am twenty now studying criminal law. I know how ironic a Psychopath defending other psychos since my parents were not the rich type I had to work in a coffee shop as the manager every penny I got I put towards my mothers pills. I don’t think i would live if anything happened to her
“Can I have a tall iced cold brew with no sweetener? Hello” she waved her hand in front of my face bringing me back to reality. I had not even realized I zoned out. I looked at the woman in front of me. She was around twenty three, her hair was somewhat red...ginger complemented her freckles that kissed the bridge of her nose falling across her face. And then there was her piercing blue green eyes....she was by far the most breathtaking girl I had ever seen
While making her coffee I could not help but listen to her conversation. Something about her made me want to know every single thing that runs through her mind. She walked outside hearing her phone ringing from her purse
“Yes mom, law school was a great choice....I gotta go I don’t want to be late to class, i love you” she lied it is only eight thirty she has a whole other hour until class.
“Thank you” she breathes out, tucking her hair behind her ear. She swiped her card paying for the coffee before walking out of the coffee shop. I looked down seeing she forgot her text book...this is perfect i’d have a reason to talk to her maybe even ask her out.
I sat in class waiting for her, I kept checking my watch every two minutes. Where are you? Did you lie when you told your mom you are going to law school
“Miss Keating! You better have a good reason why you were late to my class” Professor Johnson questions with pure anger in his voice, he was an unhappy man going to work everyday only to go back home to an empty lonely house, I somewhat felt bad for the man
“Traffic is a horror show. I promise it would never happen again” and there it is that sweet innocent voice. She walked down sitting beside me, her silk white blouse was buttoned weird and wrinkled, her hair was not kneat anymore. Miss Keating you were not the angel you made me think of you to be
“Fuck” she whispered under her breath rummerging around her bag, I reached out into my bag handing her the text book she left at the coffee shop. She hesitantly took it
“You are the barista at the coffee shop”
“Bailey, Greyson Bailey” I smiled staring into her blue eyes
“Nadia Keating” Nadia, even her name was beautiful, she stood up with confidence
“It was the husband who killed the nanny” her idea was far from everyone else instead of blaming the client she protected her she believed when she said she never killed the nanny
The professor like everyone else was intrigued to hear what she had to say
“You have the floor to explain miss Keating” she had everyone where she wanted them and she enjoyed every second of all the eyes that fell onto her. Nadia walked down to where the professor was holding the remote that controlled the projector with pride
“Evidence from Mrs. Walsh doctors says she has a history of sleepwalking but if you look at what those same doctors said that if taken with alcohol it would make her go a bit insane. That very same night her husband comes back from a business trip. Now you all may be wondering, so what is it a crime to go on business trips...no but in Mr. Walsh case it was, he knew what having alcohol with meds did to his wife yet he forced her to drink so that she would not wake up catching them together. But on that night the victim told Mr. Walsh she was pregnant with the baby and she was keeping it now you can see where he got angry taking the corkscrew stabbing her in the neck he panics but not to worry because he ca pin it all on his wife and if you look at Mr.Walsh calls and text you can see he was flirting and sending nude pictures to the victim and I am one hundred percent sure if you take a DNA test to see who the father of the unborn child you would see it is Mr.Walsh baby. I rest my case” She raised her head walking back to her seat
“Miss Keating you just won your case” she smiled proud as she got her things walking out, i followed her seeing her getting into some guys car. Even though I just met her I could not help but want her, every guy in that room did. The confidence she had the way she fought the case proving her client was innocent
I walked in the house seeing my mothers frail hands shaking as she tried to pour herself some water, I rushed beside her taking the glass away pouring the water for her. She smiles weakly limping as she sat at the kitchen table
“Did Mary leave yet?” Mary is my mothers caretaker for when I am not home. I leaned back undoing my tie from around my neck. I looked up hearing someone humming Mary came out wiping her hands on her pants
“No I am still here, come on Annabell time to get you to bed” I kissed my mom on her forehead watching as she left. I took out a thousand dollars handing it to Mary “I don’t want the money Greyson all I want is for your mother to be okay and right now she needs me to be by her side more than ever”
“Then take the money and buy her whatever she needs” I placed the money in her hands walking outside sitting at the back porch staring at the garden sipping a glass of of whiskey that was my father favourite, whenever I had a good day I’d sit watching the spot where we buried him and replay the night....reliving every second
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