Stalker

by Clarissa Wild

  I can’t let it win.

  I straighten my back and pat down my clothes before I walk out the door right when the bell rings.

  Miles just stands there, his eyebrows almost touching each other, his chest going up and down as he heaves, probably attempting to calm himself down as he always does.

  I swallow away the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Don’t be. I had it coming.” He narrows his eyes. “We both know this isn’t working.”

  “Yeah …” I say, still leaning against the door as if it’s going to provide me with protection.

  “But here’s the thing. I don’t want to stop being friends with you,” he says, making me hold my breath. “I’m trying to be myself and be worthy of your friendship.”

  “But you are …” I mutter.

  “No.” He takes a step forward. “That’s the whole point. I’m never going to be good enough.”

  “What? How can you say that about yourself?”

  “Look at us,” he shouts. “Look at your grades, all A’s. Now look at mine … I’m glad if I can get a C.”

  “But I know you can do so much better,” I say, cocking my head. “I can help you.”

  “No, you can’t. It’s not what you do; it’s what I can’t do.” There’s a certain pain in his voice; it stings so badly that it hurts my soul.

  “But—”

  “No, there is no but.” He steps even closer, placing his hand on the door. “You don’t get it. I can’t change. I can’t make it work. This is not me.” He fishes in my front pocket and takes out the pen. “That’s you.” Then he puts it back and lifts his shirt, showing me his tattoo again. “This is me.”

  “So?” I say.

  “We’re different, and we’ll always be. We’re not from the same environment. I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t ever be good enough for you. Nothing will change that.”

  I shake my head because I hate the way this conversation is going. It’s as if he wants to end everything with me, whatever it is that we have. “You’re wrong.”

  He places another hand on the door, blocking me from leaving. Not that I was going anywhere at this rate because I don’t care about class right now. All I care about is him.

  “Why am I not good enough?” He leans in. “No matter what I do. Is it your parents? Your future? Your own wishes?”

  I don’t have the answers he seeks. All I know is that he’s right. It’s everything.

  He leans in so close that I can feel his hot breath on my lips. I close my eyes, my body shuddering from the close proximity of his mouth. God, I can almost imagine him kissing me again. It was a long time ago, but I’ve been thinking about it every single day. It’s all I want, but it’s wrong … so wrong. I can’t be with him. I can’t want him. I’m not allowed.

  “It’s all of those things, isn’t it?” he whispers, making me suck in a breath.

  I nod, intoxicated by his smell. I want it. I can’t have it, but I want it so badly.

  “I’ll show you that I’m good enough. You just wait and see,” he whispers. “One day.”

  And then the warmth turns into cold ice as he walks away, leaving me in shambles.

  CHAPTER 15

  PHOENIX

  Present

  I had to pull out of that situation. I could feel my heart beating again, which is never a good sign. Not when she’s saying things like that.

  Fuck. I never knew her parents forced her to marry Phillip. Then again, I’m not sure how much of that sob story I should believe. However, I do recall something from a particular conversation we once had, back in the old days. It was on that spot we always shared our secrets, the place in the meadows, far away from the road. The place I almost buried a body. Now it leaves a tangy taste in my mouth just thinking about it.

  I remember every last detail of our encounters back in school as vivid as if they happened just days ago. As I storm down the stairs, I keep thinking … what if things had gone differently? What if we’d made different choices? Would I still be the killer? Would she still be the conniving bitch she is now? Would we hate or love each other?

  I can’t imagine myself feeling anything but loathing for her. Maybe it’s the anger talking. Or maybe it’s all those memories I’ve stored somewhere … memories of a time when I wanted something I couldn’t ever have.

  ***

  Age 16

  She walks around school with another guy on her arms. Whenever she passes me, I make a fist, trying to hold myself back. Rage boils through me, filling my bones with hatred toward her boyfriend and even Vanessa herself. Sometimes, I just wish I could tell her to stop. Scream in her face. Maybe it’ll wake her up.

  But then I realize she was never mine to begin with.

  Even when I thought she was. When I thought I still had a chance.

  What a fucking joke.

  I slam my locker shut and try to focus on something other than the girl flaunting her goods. I pick up my lighter and a joint and walk outside so I can be on my own for a second. This the only way I can truly relax. It stops me from thinking about what the fuck I’m doing in school anyway. I don’t belong here. I don’t have brains. All I have is muscle and a wicked sense of justice. Not something people want or need … unless you’re into shady practices. But maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do. Who knows.

  When the bell rings, Vanessa walks out with her boyfriend, and the moment I spot them hand in hand, my nose already begins to twitch. I hate looking at them, hugging each other, being all lovey-dovey. It makes me want to barf. I should barf down his shirt sometime … Would make a good show.

  They’re standing near the wall of the building; he’s leaning against her with his hands all over places he shouldn’t be, and it’s pissing me off. The way he’s talking to her, like she’s some kind of candy he can chew on, makes me want to go over there and punch him in the face.

  Actually, I guess I’ll go do just that.

  Especially when I notice him lean in to kiss her.

  She pulls back, but he keeps insisting. He keeps trying to put his lips on her, despite her pushing him away.

  I storm toward them and jerk on his shirt. “Hey! Get your fucking hands off her,” I growl.

  Apparently, the guy has such little backbone that my shove makes him fall on his back.

  “Dude! What the fuck?” he says, as he looks up.

  “Miles!” Vanessa says, her face looking like thunder in the skies. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “He was trying to kiss you,” I say.

  “Yeah, so?” She folds her arms, raising an eyebrow as if I’m the one losing my mind instead of the other way around.

  “You clearly didn’t want him to,” I say, making a face. “Stop lying to yourself.”

  She gets in my face, and then out of nowhere, she pushes me back. “Stop butting into my life, asshole.”

  “What?” I wince. “Are you serious? I’m trying to protect you here.”

  “Stop trying! I don’t need any protection,” she says, shoving me again. Making fists, she pushes me in the stomach and forces me to step back. Her fists don’t hurt, but her words do.

  “I don’t understand you,” I say. “Why are you mad at me, when he’s the one who tried to kiss you when you didn’t want him to?”

  “Why are you trying to ruin things for me?” she says, as she helps Phillip up from the ground.

  Her words cut into me like a blade. I can feel it hurt, but I won’t let it go skin-deep. Not any further.

  “Fine,” I snap. “Have it your way.”

  And then I turn around and walk away from her. “He’s all yours.”

  She wants that guy? She can have him.

  Maybe it’s for the best. We weren’t right for each other anyway. Our puzzle pieces don’t align. Too bad we had to find out this way.

  ***

  Present

  Did she really marry Phillip to save me? Or is she just lying to make me go eas
y on her?

  I wonder because I do recall her loathing gazes each time she had to see him. Then again, she did marry him herself, and she stayed.

  Who did she want to protect me from anyway? Her mother? Laughable. That woman wouldn’t have been able to come close without me snapping her neck first. But I guess rich families like hers use others to do their dirty work for them.

  Maybe that witch did want to have my head on a pike. It’s not surprising, as my anger spreads like wildfire, and it burns everyone who dares to come close. Of course they’d be mad if I hung out with their daughter.

  I can’t help but wonder … what if what she said was true?

  If only I hadn’t given up on claiming her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have betrayed me the way she did. We both lost our fucking way, but that doesn’t mean we have to continue being liars. Maybe I can literally fuck some sense into her.

  I turn around and rush back up, skipping some stairs as I go. The moment I open the door, her head turns to me and her eyes widen. I slam the door and go to her. Then I rip the tape off her mouth, her skin glowing red. So fucking pretty.

  “You’re back,” she mutters.

  “Didn’t expect me?” I say. “Well, too bad, because I’m about to fuck you up.”

  She shakes her head. “As if you haven’t fucked me up already.”

  “Oh, I can do plenty more things to you, sweet cheeks.” A grin spreads to my cheeks. “And about half of them involve having you scream my name.”

  She makes a face. “Is that all you can think of? Sex?”

  “With you, it is,” I growl. “Somehow, every fucking time I look at you, you make me insane with lust.”

  It’s true; I’m not going to deny it. Her body is still as sexy as ever, and her lips are so fucking kissable. Part of me hates it and part of me loves it, especially the fact that she’s all mine right now. I’m not able to fucking resist it, and I don’t fucking care anymore.

  I hate her for what she did to me, but damn, I can’t stop thinking about having her all to myself. Seeing her cooped up in that cage gets me all riled up, knowing that I can do anything I want with her. Anything my heart needs … anything my cock desires. And from the flushed look on her face, I know that she wants it, too.

  Why kill her when I can fuck her day in and day out without retribution? When I have all the freedom and time in the world, why spend it on hatred when I can spend it on fucking her senseless? It’s all I ever wanted … all I ever needed, even if she wouldn’t give herself to me. That’s what pissed me off to begin with, that she never fucking chose me. But here’s the thing; she doesn’t have a choice now.

  I am in control, and I will make her want me; I will make her need me to the point of her begging me to stay. The princess locked up in a tower, captured by the monster … and he has an appetite for pretty girls. This is too good to pass up on.

  As I walk around her cage, I hear her sniff. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she says, holding onto her legs, clamping what little is left of her dress.

  “Let me guess.” I narrow my eyes. “You’re upset because you found out Arthur actually doesn’t give a shit about you and only wanted your money.”

  “Not just that.” She looks up at me with those doe-like eyes that could murder a man, if I didn’t know better. “You’re just here to use me. Just like the rest of them. Arthur. Phillip. My parents.”

  “Hmm … you want to compare me to them?” I say, cocking my head as I come near the cage. “I’m not like them. At. All.”

  “You are. You just don’t want to admit it. All you people do is use and abuse,” she says.

  “And you do it too, so how does that make you any different?” I smile. “Just because you’re trying to get back at them doesn’t make you any better.”

  “Says the guy who keeps the object of his revenge locked up in a cage.”

  “Touché.” I wink. “But I never denied being a piece of shit.”

  “True. You really are a piece of shit.”

  I take my knife from my pocket and wave it at her. “Just because I say it doesn’t mean you can say it so keep that to yourself.”

  “Why? Will it make you feel better about doing this to me?” She makes a face. “Because whether I say it or not doesn’t matter. You’re still a piece of shit.”

  “Yeah, well, this fucking piece of shit is keeping your assistant captive, and if you want to keep her alive, you’d better do as he says.”

  She gasps. “She’s alive?”

  “Hey, I might be a killer, but I’m not stupid. I know a bargaining chip when I see one.”

  “Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes, but I know I’m right.

  “Besides, it’s not like I can let her go.”

  “But you’re not going to hurt her? Right?” Her tone is louder, almost as if she’s trying to make me.

  “That depends on how well you behave …” I murmur.

  She frowns. “You wanna fuck me …”

  “That’s right, Princess. I will fuck you and blow my load in all your holes, whether you like it or not.”

  “And that’s going to save Paige?”

  “Maybe,” I muse, smiling a little when I see her annoyed face.

  “How would I know for sure? If you fuck me, you could still hurt her afterward.”

  “I guess you’ll just have to trust me on my word,” I say.

  “Your word means shit to me,” she spits.

  “Oh, Vanessa … haven’t I proven myself already? When I say I’m going to do something, I’m going to fucking make it happen. Whether it’s killing people or chasing after you.”

  I’m gloating right now, just because of that look she’s giving me. It’s a mixture of disgust and arousal, and I can’t tell which one is winning, but I don’t fucking care. I’m having her whether she wants it or not. She’s not in control. She never was.

  “Fine …” she mutters, but she’s licking her lips anyway. I guess she just doesn’t want to admit to herself that she wants this as much as I do.

  I hold out my hand. “Let’s start by you giving me that dress.”

  Her fingers latch onto it. “No …”

  “Give. Me. The. Dress,” I reiterate. I don’t know why she holds onto it like it’s precious. The shoulder straps are already torn, so it’s useless anyway. Might as well get rid it of it now. I don’t want it to be in the way while I ram my cock into her.

  Slowly, her fingers loosen, and her dress drapes off her, falling to the floor. Then she crawls out of it and hands the dress to me. My eyes slide over her naked body, taking it all in with greed. Her petite frame and silky skin shine like a rough diamond, grabbing all the attention that I have in me. For a moment, I find it hard to remind myself that she’s the woman who had me arrested and put me in jail. That she’s the woman who ruined my life. Every time I see her pretty face and smile, I have to remind myself that she’s not a sweet apple but a rotten one.

  I can’t allow myself to fall for her charms again. Fuck no; she doesn’t deserve to be loved. Not by me. Not by anyone. Not ever again. Not when she’s become the villain in her own story. I’ll be the one to hand out her punishment, and I know exactly how.

  I pick up my belt and walk toward her back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shh.” I wrap the belt around her neck, and immediately her hand reaches for it, so I slap it away. “Don’t you fucking touch it.”

  She lowers her hand, taking a sip of air as I tighten the belt around her neck. “Are you going to kill me?” she asks.

  I laugh. “Of course, not. Where’s the fun in that?” When she lets out a breath, seemingly relaxing, I say, “It’s too soon, at least.” Her posture turns rigid. Good. She should stay on her toes. I don’t want her relaxing, not around me.

  Pulling back on the belt, her head moves up, and I can hear her gasp for air.

  I’ve created the perfect leash for a perfect princess.

  “You look so nice
with a leash on. Someone should have done this long ago,” I say, holding the belt. “Get up.”

  “How? I can’t stand in here.”

  “On hands and knees.”

  She does what I say, and perks up her ass and tits for me to look at. I place the long end of the belt on the floor. “Don’t you fucking attempt to take it off,” I growl when I catch her fingers moving toward her neck. I flash my knife, which is always ready to slice through something painfully slow. This makes her stop immediately.

  I reach into the cage and grab a handful of her titties, squeezing them to my liking. They’re still as soft and squishy as ever, so fucking nice I could shove my cock between them and blow my load right on her face. But that’s not what I’m after today. No, I want to teach her a lesson. I want to give her her own version of hell.

  I smirk when tugging on her nipples makes her squeal. “I should do this more often. Sounds like you enjoy it.”

  “No,” she murmurs.

  “Keep telling yourself that,” I say, letting go after making them puckered.

  As I circle around the cage, I peek at her sweet pussy, which looks just as appetizing as I remember. Maybe I’ll have a taste later. First, she’s going to prove to me how much her own life is worth to her.

  “Ass against the bars, Princess,” I muse.

  She sighs a little, but she does it anyway. Such a good pet.

  “So … how much are you willing to give to keep this assistant of yours alive?” I ask, licking my lips while taking a good look at her naked body.

  “Just don’t kill her,” she says.

  “I wonder why you care so much.”

  “I’m not as cold as you think I am.”

  “Hmmm …” I smile. “Well, show me how much she’s worth then.”