"Willa," she whispers.
"Cute name," I grin, and she smiles back. "Where do you live?"
"Not far from here," she says, glancing at the exit of the building. "Oh, my mom is back. I'll..."
She turns away but I've already blended right back into the shadows. Her eyebrows crease, but she seems to understand the nature of our forbidden friendship. She waves to the empty alley and skips over to where her mother is waiting. At least she seems less miserable now than she was when she first got here.
Breathing a heavy sigh, I already know my plan for the day is fucked. I need to follow the girl, Willa, now, not Dove. Dove has other people taking care of her now, but Willa doesn't. And she deserves help just as much. She's innocent. An innocent little kid that needs my help.
My fists tighten, my nails digging into the skin of my palm. Not waiting for Dove to appear, I slink into the shadows and begin trailing the little girl and her mother. I don't know when I fucking turned into a protector of the city, but I don't have a choice. My conscience which has sat undisturbed for decades is back at it, reminding me it's my responsibility to help the kid. After all, she doesn't have anybody else.
The woman is impatient, constantly tugging on the little girl's hand and dragging her along. I can tell Willa isn't excited about going back home. The sick side of me is almost excited at the prospect of meeting her stepdaddy. I can't wait to beat the shit out of the guy. Maybe even slit his fucking throat. That's what the bastard deserves for fucking up an innocent child.
Finally, the two of them arrive at a small, shitty house that's falling apart. The mom goes in first, leaving Willa on the doorstep.
What the actual fuck? She needs a lesson in bringing up a child.
Willa sits on the pavement, hugging her knees close to her chest, and my stomach tightens.
I watch until the door opens again. A stocky, once handsome guy, appears on the doorstep, glaring at my new friend. He mutters something I can’t hear and she follows him inside with her shoulders slumped, and the door slams shut behind them.
I lean against the brick wall behind me, lighting up a smoke.
I have a new mission now, something to distract me from Dove. I can only hope it will be enough to take my mind off little bird, the way she wanted.
Chapter 34
Dove
It's another Saturday night just like the ones before it. I'm out to dinner with Raphael again, mindlessly stabbing the vegetables on my plate with my fork.
"You’re somewhere else today, aren't you?" At the sound of Raphael's voice, my head snaps toward him and I offer an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry. Just really tired."
"Dove, you know I'm here for you, right?" His palm covers mine on the table, but I'm still averting his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his watchful eyes. "I'll do anything to make you feel better."
"It's okay," I reply jovially, even though it's the last thing I feel right now. Because, like clockwork, the nighttime rolls around and my mind goes back to the man I can never have – Nox.
After all, the monsters come out to play only when the sun is gone... And Nox did always feel most at home in the shadows.
I've forced him from my mind most days, but when night falls, he's back with a vengeance. His voice is burned into my brain, endlessly demanding attention. Attention I refuse to give him or his memory that lives within me, because the prick doesn't deserve it.
He's a killer. A murderer. And he should pay for what he's done. Because of him, I'll never see my brother again. And now Sam is gone too, and the only person I really have left is sitting in front of me, and here I am, still thinking about Robin's murderer. I deserve a punishment, so I dig my nails into my palms underneath the table.
Raphael seems to sense my discomfort, seeing how my teeth dig into my bottom lip painfully. He reaches for my hand under the table. My palm opens up, allowing his fingers to gently trace the crescent-shaped wounds I've given myself.
"Please don't hurt yourself," he says. His tone is soft but his intention is clear. He wants me to stop what I'm doing. But I can't. Not for him.
I think of Nox, then. Imagine his handsome face, the scar I put on it. He'll carry me around for ever now. He can't run from me either.
And my fingers relax. I stop hurting myself, stop digging my nails into my palm. I close my eyes shut and exhale, telling myself I'm doing this for Raphael, even though my mind and body both know it's a lie, a betrayal. I'm doing this for Nox. To make him proud. And as sick as it is, the smallest sliver of me hopes he's watching, and that he's proud.
"Sorry," I say quickly, mostly to get rid of the thoughts invading my mind.
Raphael rewards me with a smile and we get back to our food. I'm feeling marginally better and he seems pleased by that, though I don't dare tell him it's because of Nox.
Strangely enough, Raphael hasn't asked me about him, despite their somewhat strange meeting. Perhaps he knows it's better not to ask.
After dinner, we leave the restaurant and decide to go for a walk on the beach again. Raphael's hand finds its way into mine. I carry my sandals in the other hand, the pleasantly cool sand slipping through my toes. The atmosphere is peaceful, the breeze gentle against my skin.
"Dove..."
I raise my eyes to Raphael's, swallowing thickly. I know what's coming and I'm scared.
"Will you ever let me kiss you again?"
I feel the lump in my throat growing bigger and bigger. What am I supposed to tell him? LIE! my subconscious screams at me. Lie to him!
And yet I can't. Somehow the words don't leave my lips and I merely stare at Raphael, hoping he understands.
"You don't want that?" he asks.
"I don't know," I whisper. "I want to want it."
He groans. His hands cup my face and I look down, unable to handle the weight of his gaze. But it doesn't stop him. Slowly, passionately, Raphael touches his lips to mine. The kiss is perfect – anything and everything a girl could dream of. He's a gentleman, so much different than Nox, so much less demanding, so much more giving. And yet I feel nothing.
"I'm sorry," I whisper against his lips as he pulls back.
He watches me closely. A tear slips down my cheek. I don't want to be weak in front of him. I don't want him to see how broken I really am, because a part of me still wants to impress him.
"Don't apologize," he mutters. "You never have to apologize to me, Dove."
I nod, even though his words don't strike home. I feel like I owe him for everything he's done for me. He's never implied it, and yet I can't help the feelings of not being good enough for anyone.
"But Dove, I have to ask," Raphael speaks up again. "Do you want me to wait for you? Because I will. I'll wait months, years. Because I already know you're the only one I want."
His words make my heart tighten in my chest, as if someone's squeezing it with an iron grip. What the fuck am I supposed to tell him?
"I don't know," I whisper brokenly. "I can't say. I can't ask you to do that."
"Just know I'm willing to wait as long as it takes." He smiles at me. He's so confident. Handsome. He could have any woman in the world. And he picked me. "You're worth it, Dove."
"Thank you," I manage.
"I know we've been hanging out a lot," Raphael goes on. "But how would you feel if we start dating? Absolutely no pressure, of course."
"I..."
"We don't have to do anything," he rushes to say. "I just figured it was the next step... We're already spending a lot of time together."
I shake my head. "I can't."
"You don't want to?"
"No," I cut him off sharply before he can continue, my eyes blazing with silent fire. "I can't."
Of course I want to. Deep down, I know it's the best choice for me. Raphael is safe. Nox isn't. And yet I can't force myself to accept his proposal. Not when there's a stalker out there that I feel so much more for. A stalker I never want to see again.
Not until he pays for hi
s crimes.
"Okay," Raphael says. We don't speak of it again. We take a nice, long walk without saying much. The silence is pleasant, companionable – something you'd expect from a lifelong partner. Raphael is so many women's dream match. But he's not mine.
Once we reach the far end of the beach, he calls us an Uber. We sit close by, his hand softly touching mine, full of hopes and dreams and promises of a future I can never give him. And yet I'm the selfish bitch that won't let him go. I need Raphael. He's the only person that keeps me sane, the only one I have left after Sam, after my brother.
We pull up in front of my house first. Our eyes meet and he nods at me. "Go ahead."
I'm grateful he doesn't offer to walk me in, because I don't want to say no. I smile and kiss his cheek on an impulse, then get out of the car. I watch the Uber pull away and let myself in, my heart still pounding from the weight of my conversation with Raphael. My conscience is out for vengeance, reminding me how stupid I am. Obsessed with the man who hurt me instead of the one who would do anything for me. I deserve this. I deserve to be alone.
And yet there's a small voice deep within me. A voice that was born in that room with all the plants, the one Nox locked me in. The voice feels like it doesn't belong to me. It belongs to a woman who's much stronger and more capable. But maybe one day I can grow up enough to be her.
I lock the door behind me. Out of habit, I check every room. They're all empty. I'm alone.
Fighting back the feeling of disappointment, I peel off my dress and take off my bra with a sigh. I get between the sheets in nothing but my black lace thong, fingers wrapped around a vibrator I bought last week.
I'm a woman and I have needs, and I'm going to embrace them. Fuck what anyone else says.
I turn the toy on and it rumbles to life. Shutting my eyes, I push the fabric of my thong to the side and toy with my clit, pressing down the vibrator. In an instant, relief and pleasure wash over me. It's sick, the fact that this is the only thing that makes me feel complete anymore.
Sex.
Fucking.
I've become a toy. But this toy only plays by itself.
It feels somehow powerful to be in charge of my own body. To extract moan after moan from my own lips. I hold the power now. Too bad I can't control where my thoughts are going.
Once again, I find my mind circling around Nox. What I did to him, what he did to me. How we fucked each other up beyond repair. Most of me wants to hate him, but there are parts, and those parts are determined as hell, that want him, need him back. I dream of him. At night, he's back in my head, controlling me, pulling the strings that make my body obey him without question.
I'm a woman obsessed. And I know there's no way out of this – it's a hell of my own making, one I can never escape.
But it's a small consolation, nevertheless, to know I'm not letting him near me again. He can't hurt me if he isn't around. He can't keep stealing people, memories, he can't wreck my future if he isn't here.
My eyes fly open, the toy incessantly buzzing between my legs. I want the release I'm keeping from myself, and yet it feels like a waste because my stalker isn't watching.
"Fuck you, Nox," I mutter, the words barely above a whisper. "You don't own me."
Knowing I'm lying to myself, I bring myself closer to an orgasm. I'm a finger slip away from coming, from giving myself the pleasure I don't deserve. It will be a small consolation for what I've done to myself. For cutting Nox out of my life.
The climax begins and I pull my toy away, denying myself. My thoughts are swimming with images of him. Nox. Fucking me up even when I've forced him to stay away. Stubbornly, I push the toy back and force myself to think of Raphael.
How unbelievably handsome he is, with his dark hair, clear brown eyes, his perfect complexion. How he towers above me, his shoulders broad, his mere presence protective. His deep voice, his calming words. He could be the one.
But he isn't.
Still, I grit my teeth and force myself to keep him on my mind. I think of Raphael as gasps escape my lips, as the inescapable orgasm threatens to rip me apart.
"Please," I whisper to nobody but myself. "Please, make me come."
I grit my teeth, knowing how very close I am. I'm almost done. And when I come without thinking of what shouldn't be on my mind, I'll be free. Free of Nox's control over me.
Except the moment I think of his name, he's back.
He laughs at me. He mocks me for thinking of someone else, when we both know he's the only one for me. His invisible fingers take the toy and bring me closer, toying with my conscience. I want it. I want this. I want him.
I fight back tears as the orgasm rips through my body. My teeth dig into my bottom lip and I silence my own scream of pleasure and frustration. My orgasm, this time, is silent.
But Nox has still won.
Chapter 35
Nox
I'm developing a new obsession. You could almost call it wholesome.
The little kid, Willa, has a tough life. She reminds me of myself, of what I went through at that age. How I found a darkness deep within me, and how I was forced to quash it down years later when my father found out. But the thing about darkness is, if you shut it out, it festers and rots. That's what happened to me, and I can’t let that happen to Willa.
I've kept my distance from her for now. I'll get in touch again soon, but first, I need to learn more about the kid and the way her life and the people around her work.
There's one thing I'm already sure about – her so-called parents are pieces of shit. I've seen her stepfather strike her, and it took everything I had in me not to storm into their house and rip her out of his abusive claws. Her mother's a drug addict, but not in the quiet, ashamed way Sam was. Willa's mom doesn't give a shit. She'll snort coke in front of her daughter. She'll do anything she can get her hands on just so she can be in a perpetual state of numbness. Her forgotten daughter is left to fend for herself.
She must be six or seven years old. She walks to school alone, with me trailing behind her in the shadows to make sure she's okay. She's brave. She doesn't let anyone put her down. At school, she's alone. Sometimes, she eats her lunch in the bathroom. Sometimes, she sits by herself in the enclosed sitting area by the school.
That's where I choose to make contact again.
I wait until the school day is over. I wait until she's walking home, and peel my back from the shadows. She notices me right away, grinning wide as her eyes meet mine.
"Hey, Willa."
"Hello," she replies, still a little cautious. "Your scar is healing."
I nod, even though it's fucking painful, because it reminds me of how much time has passed since I've spoken to Dove.
"I got you something."
Her eyes light up as I pull out a crumpled brown paper bag. I've noticed she only eats at school. Her mother doesn't even check if she's hungry, and there's rarely something for her to eat at their house.
First, Willa pulls out some nutritional bars. She makes a face, making me chuckle darkly.
"They're not that bad," I promise her. "You can keep them hidden in your room. For when you're really hungry."
Her eyes light up. "How did you know?"
"Don't ask," I grin. "Check the bag, there's something else."
She keeps digging underneath the stacks of bars. "Oh!"
Her little hand pulls out the plushie. It's a grizzly bear, with feather-soft fur and eyes that almost look intelligent.
"He'll keep you safe," I tell her. "And we'll make a little deal."
"What kind of deal?" She holds the teddy close, unwilling to let go, as if I'm going to take him away already.
"Sometimes I walk by your house," I go on easily. "So, if you put the bear in your bedroom window, I'll know you're okay. And if you don't, I'll know something's wrong and you need my help."
"Okay," she nods thoughtfully. "I can do that."
"Great. You should go back home now, your mother is probably waiting."
"Yeah."
"I won't tell my mom about you."
I laugh out loud. "Yeah, you shouldn't, kid."
"I'll see you soon?" She turns her hopeful eyes to mine.
"I hope not," I grin. "Unless something's wrong."
She smiles, tucking the bear back inside the bag. When she looks up, I'm already gone, but she doesn't seem surprised. She starts taking small steps toward her home, dragging the bag with her. She looks so small. SO vulnerable. And I sure as fuck don't need another helpless creature to take care of, to be my responsibility. But I can't help myself.
***
I return to the hotel room with a heavy mind, my shoulders slumped. At least the front desk girl has ignored me since the scar, since she saw Dove.
After a hot shower in the shitty bathroom, I dig out my phone and find another slew of missed calls. Hodge has been calling. What the fuck does he want now?
Reluctantly, I call him back. He answers on the second ring, as if he's been waiting by the phone.
"Nox. I've been waiting for your call."
I swallow my frustration, silently wondering why I'm such a piece of shit to this man who's done nothing to deserve it. "What's up?"
"I was hoping we could talk about the exhibition again."
I groan. I should've seen this coming. He's constantly pressuring me about the same shit. "I don't want to do an exhibition."
"I know, but it would help your recognition so much. We could sell more. Have you been painting?"
I glance around the crappy motel room. I haven't touched a paintbrush in months. I have a sketchbook that I'll draw in with charcoal, but that's it. "No."
"You should come back to New York, Nox. It's your home after all."
He's quietly insistent, never pushing too hard. The man is a goddamn saint, but it only makes me hate him more. And I'm starting to realize why. He reminds me of my father. And for some reason, hurting him makes me feel better.
"I can't leave LA."
"Why not?"
I hesitate, unsure of my own answer. What the fuck am I supposed to tell him? Definitely not the truth.
Tyrant Stalker: A Dark Forbidden Romance (Tyrant Dynasty Book 2) Page 22
