by Dee Garcia
Correction, what you both want, commented that little voice in my head.
I almost groaned aloud, frustrated at everything, especially myself. I never should have let him kiss me. Never should have let him put his hands on me. Never should’ve given him that fucking dance either.
I should’ve stood my ground and told Suki to handle it.
But no, the masochist in me wanted another taste, and I gave in.
Twice over.
The span of the club seemed to go on forever until finally the front doors came into view. I picked up the pace, desperate to fill my lungs with fresh air, to put an infinite amount of space between us and end this once and for all. I was literally dragging him, weaving in and out of every person standing between me and some sort of freedom.
The second we made it out into the muggy October night, I yanked Roman across the street without regard for oncoming traffic and whipped him onto the sidewalk with a growl. Chest heaving, I released him with purpose and took several steps back, inhaling heaps of air.
“What? What the fuck do you want?” I questioned, arms flying out in frustration, my gaze colliding with every set of eyes on us.
It seemed we’d enraptured an audience in our hasty exit.
Roman laughed softly, clenching and unclenching his fists as he began advancing on me. “You know what I want.”
Each step forward felt like the ground shook along with it, propelling me backwards on shaky legs until my back hit the stucco exterior of another club.
“I want you,” he gritted out.
“And I’ve already told you no.”
He was on me in seconds flat, looming over me, his face illuminated by the streetlamps around us. Hands falling to my hips, he pressed himself against me as the tip of his nose skated along my jaw.
Fend him off, fend him off, fend him off!
Ridiculously dazed after two point five seconds of contact, I somehow managed to shove his chest and jerk him off me just slightly.
But he was back in double the speed.
The look that awaited me—while satisfied to have me where he wanted me—was also completely serious. “No isn’t really an option.”
I saw red, pure flaming indignant red.
Who the hell did he think he was? How many times did we need to go through this for him to understand?
“You agreed! What part of stay away—”
“EHHH,” he cut me off with this obnoxious buzzer sound, cocking his head to one side. “Don’t come at me with that bullshit again because right now, at this point time, it’s the wrong fucking answer, and you know it damn well.”
He growled that last bit.
So deep and so deliciously malevolent, I actually found myself shivering, drawing that sinister grin across his face.
Feeling victorious, he assessed me closely from head to toe, blue eyes blazing, his breath hot against my cheek. “You know you’re mine, Lux—have been for a while now. Since before that kiss if you want to get technical.”
I rolled my eyes, hoping the darkness would hide the heat building in my cheeks. “I’m not yours, and you seriously need to get over that.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, kitty kat. I’ll obsess about whatever and whoever I want,” he purred, dragging the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip.
I laughed sardonically to keep up the appearance, but he was already wearing me down. I’d been alone with him less than five minutes and he was already wearing me the fuck down.
My heart galloped.
My stomach flip-flopped a million times.
How did this man always manage to do this to me, and more importantly, why did my body always betray me?
“You laugh, but I don’t hear a no. You know I’m right,” he added.
“No, you’re not.”
“I am, trust me. I can see right through that shiny metal shield you hold in front of me. You want me as badly as I want you. Two fiends in one fucked up pod.”
“You’re delusional,” I stated and he chuckled.
“Sometimes, I suppose, but I’m not when it pertains to this. Have you taken a moment to really think about what this could mean? Do you know how powerful we could be together, Lux?”
“I’m already powerful,” I barely grated.
“Yes, you are. Now imagine that doubled. Double the power, double the rewards. The benefits,” he growled, rolling his hips against me. “You know I’d never let anyone hurt you, right?”
A blatant scoff left me. “Yeah, cause you’d rather hurt me yourself.”
“Only in all the delicious, torturous ways you like, love.”
I swallowed deeply, trying my damndest not to envision the filth his words brought to mind.
“We had an agreement,” I reminded him. “Why do you insist on making this harder than it needs to be?”
Breaths shallow, his nostrils flared. “Because I can’t stay away from you. I only agreed for your sake—that doesn’t mean it’s what I want.”
“You want Miami? Take it! Take it all! If it means you’ll leave me be then just fucking take it all!” I bellowed, trying and miserably failing to push him away.
He was far too lithe, though.
Catching my wrists in his grip, he shoved me back into the stucco as a growl unfurled from deep within his chest.
“I don’t want it if I can’t have you. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“All of it. I was serious then, and I’m still serious now. Stay away from me, Rome. Go find someone else to aim your crazy at!”
Not really what I wanted, but I hadn’t accepted that yet.
Hadn’t even realized it yet.
Until I stormed back into Space and he didn’t come after me…
♫ Monsters - Ruelle ♫
“Mum, I’m home,” I call out, as I shut the front door behind myself.
I expect to hear her reply from the kitchen—as she usually does around this hour—but nothing follows.
I drag my eyes to the clock on the wall; 6:30 p.m.
She should be definitely home, so should my sister, Siobhan.
The lights are on both upstairs and downstairs, but not a sound resonates. The hairs at the nape of my neck prickle as silence lingers around me.
Something isn’t right.
Dropping my bag in the foyer, I trail through the house quietly, keeping my eyes peeled. For what, I don’t know, but I can’t shake the bad feeling suddenly looming over my shoulders.
In the living room, the telly sits on one of mum’s favorite crime programs. There’s a glass of wine on the coffee table and one of her romance novels laid out with a bookmark lodged in the spine. Clearly, she’s home, and at a glance, nothing seems out of place.
Except for the silence.
It’s so silent I can hear my pulse thundering in my ears as I continue on to the kitchen.
“Mum?” I call out a second time, skidding to a stop upon crossing the threshold.
She’s not here either, but it’s the sight that greets me that runs my blood ice cold.
A puddle of wine and shards of glass cover a portion of the floor.
I try to not panic, try to convince myself it was a simple accident and perhaps she’s upstairs cleaning herself up, but the remainder of the backdrop all but screams there’s been a struggle of sorts.
The oven door is wide open.
The roast she’d clearly been preparing is still inside.
The stove top is on, too, two pots boiling away on the highest setting.
Forget thundering—my heart now slams violently in my chest.
“Mum?!” I bellow a third time, racing through the kitchen to the threshold on the other side.
That’s when I see red.
Blood.
Dark.
Fresh.
I freeze.
They’re the smallest of droplets, but as I step into the dining room, the droplets grow larger, forming puddles of all sizes.
Then I realize they’re no lo
nger contained to the floor.
A long smeared hand print paints the wall beside the china cabinet. My eyes follow it a short ways, noting how it ends abruptly.
My stomach churns.
That bad feeling is now full-on ominous. I feel a cold sweat coming on. I’m trying not to think the worst, but how can I not?
In my search of another clue, I find two hand prints on the floor, prints that were clearly dragged out of the dining room to the…
Stairs.
I stare up it’s height.
Sporadic droplets stain the worn carpet all the way up.
Bracing myself, I follow them to the very top, stopping at the landing to examine both sides of the corridor. There’s nothing on my right, where mine and Sio’s rooms are.
But on the left…all the lights are on.
Swallowing deeply, I inch down it’s length, only then realizing should there be someone in my home who’s not meant to be here, I have nothing to defend myself with other than my fists.
I look around.
All that’s readily available are the family photos on the walls.
Plucking one down, I figure this is better than nothing. I can bash an intruder over the head, then use the glass that breaks free as a shank.
And it’s as that gruesome image plays in mind that I walk in on the most gruesome image of them all.
The image that would strip me of the last bit of my humanity and officially sell my soul to the devil…
The while Lillies sitting on my bed mocked me, as all her little gifts usually did.
It’s because of her any of that even happened in the first place..
That selfish, vindictive little bitch.
My ex was a million times worse than Lux, despite what Vic would say, and she’d fucking found me.
Again.
Swiping the bunch with an aggravated hand, I bent them in half until they snapped and tossed them onto the floor, destroying the petals bit by bit with the soles of my Oxford’s.
If Liza was here, that meant I was going to have to get the fuck out of here soon.
And at that moment, it meant without Lux…
I was not about to let that happen.
If she were mine, I’d say we could leave together, get to know each other better, travel the world…
But she wasn’t, and I was on the verge of a nuclear explosion.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I only let her go last night simply because she’d been drinking. I could smell the fruity concoction on her breath. A lot of her bravado was all liquid courage. There were cops, too, and way too many people stopping to watch, as though we were some street-side act hoping to go viral on Instagram.
But this front of hers wouldn’t last forever.
Hell, she was already showing signs of throwing in the towel and giving in.
I just had to push a little harder… Before it was too late.
♫ Issues - Julia Michaels ♫
Roman: I can’t do this. I’m going fucking crazy, Lux. I need to see you.
Glued to my couch with wine goblet in hand, I’d been reading and re-reading that damned text for over ten minutes.
Not forty-eight hours had passed since I last saw him, and here he was, seeking me out yet again.
Worst part? I wanted to respond, too.
Sighing, I took another long sip from my glass, draining it in entirety. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to deal with this dilemma. Hell, even the stronger shit wouldn’t help at this point.
I didn’t know what else to do.
The man was immune to rejection and I was driving myself mad trying to keep him away.
Because you’re not really rejecting him...
It’s true, I wasn’t. I knew it, he knew, even you know it. As convincing as I tried to make myself out to be, we all knew I was only playing myself...
Which led me to wonder what would happen if I let myself indulge once?
Just once.
Nothing I’d done up this moment had worked, so perhaps giving in to this obsession would aid us in working each other out of our systems.
Yeah, okay.
I groaned at the sheer ridiculousness of my thoughts. Who was I kidding? Indulging would only worsen the problem.
My phone pinged again.
And again.
And again.
Dropping my gaze to my lap, I read the new messages now displayed on my screen.
Roman: I’ll beg if I have to.
Roman: I just want to see you.
Roman: We can chill, smoke, whatever you want.
Every text hurdled me back and forth between livid and frenzied. The man was not easily deterred and it was becoming more and more impossible to say no. I had so many other pressing matters to be worrying about, like Phantom 2.0, that I wasn’t sure how much more energy I could put into holding the door closed on Rome’s face.
Ugh.
My eyes drifted back to the screen, re-reading the last text.
Roman: We can chill, smoke, whatever you want.
I could do with a smoke...
Call it a crazy spur of the moment decision, or maybe I was willing to take advantage of the man for my own selfish reasons, but with a muttered “fuck it,” I typed out a quick, one-line message and sent it before I could give myself the chance to overthink it.
Me: We need to talk.
His reply came within minutes.
Roman: I’ll meet you anywhere.
Me: Your spot. Half hour.
Roman: I’ll be there.
Shit.
What the hell had I just gotten myself into?
Flying off the couch, I raced down the hallway to my room and scrambled into the closet like a lunatic. I’d gone from zero to one-hundred in seconds flat. Completely frazzled, I couldn’t find anything to wear, mostly because everything I had was either too provocative or what I wore to work.
Storming back into my room, I ripped through my dresser and decided to go with black sweatpants. A simple white t-shirt. I threw my hair up in a messy bun, too, and kept my face as make-up free as possible.
Small wing, a bit of mascara, and a nude lippie.
I was out the door shortly after that, nervously sliding into the G-class.
If Suki and Ramsey found out I was doing this, they’d hold it against me forever. I still hadn’t heard the end of the Vybe ordeal or Halloween.
Twenty minutes later, I made it to the top of the Panorama, my steps much quieter in my Converse joggers than in my usual heels.
I was so quiet Rome didn’t notice me until I was mere feet away from him.
That sly grin tilted up one corner of his mouth as he pivoted toward me. “Hi there.”
“Hi.” I smiled weakly in return, trying not focus on the fact he was wearing those gray sweatpants again.
“You alright?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard, cocking my head backwards just slightly. “Yeah, why?”
Rome chuckled and motioned to where I stood. “You said we needed to talk.
“Oh, yeah.” Fucking relax, Lux. “It won’t take long.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’ve got time.”
I felt my cheeks heat in slight embarrassment. “Shall we sit then?”
Nodding, Rome sunk down against the ledge and patted the spot beside him. “Shall we smoke?”
“Please,” I stressed, dropping down beside him, leaving a somewhat safe distance between us. “It’s been a hell of a long few weeks.”
“I’m going to take a guess I have something to do with it?” he asked, pulling out a small pipe and a ziplock bag with at least three grams of bud from his pocket.
“Yes and no.”
“How does that work? It’s either yes or no.”
I didn’t know how to answer.
He’d already sworn to me the stalker was very much real and not just a ploy to get me alone, but Phantom 2.0 was no where to be found…
“Were you trul
y honest about the stalker?” I blurted out, keeping my eyes on what he was doing rather than him.
“I told you that night at Vybe—yes. Why?”
“My boys can’t seem to find him or any information about him.”
“Your boys?” The slight hint of jealousy in his voice prompted me to snap my gaze up to his face.
“Roscoe and Vic,” I explained hurriedly. “Roscoe is head of security. Vic acts as a personal assistant of sorts, or well, he used to be.”
“Used to?”
I nodded. “We’re not really on speaking terms these days. He’s been rather MIA, too.”
“I see,” he said simply, passing me the pipe and a lighter. “You get greens, love.”
Taking the proffered paraphernalia, I held the pipe up to my lips and flicked the lighter, bringing the flame up to the end and sucking in a drag.
All the while, those blue eyes, curious as ever, regarded me throughout.
I instantly regretted inhaling so deeply. Whatever the strain was, it was strong as hell, the mass cloud of smoke catching roughly in my throat. I let it go with a quickness but still found myself nearly coughing up a lung, to which Rome grinned and shook his head. His expression was both delighted and a little surprised.
“Rookie cough,” he joked, tucking everything back into his pockets.
I took another quick hit and passed it off, blowing this one out—thankfully—without incident. “I don’t smoke often. Plus, it’s strong as fuck.”
“Sure, blame it on the bud.”
“I’m serious,” I squeaked, shoving his arm playfully.
Me, squeaking, being playful.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Rome must’ve clocked on to my unease because he doubled back on the conversation. That, or our little moment made him anxious as well. “So back you were saying… Stalker. Your men can’t find him?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He’s another you—a ghost. Phantom 2.0.”
“Phantom, huh?” He smirked.
Cocky ass.
“The Phantom Menace,” I corrected him.
Chuckling, he shook his head. He didn’t seem at all fazed by my jab, his smirk darkening all the more as he lifted the pipe to his lips and took another hit.
