Dark Wish (A Dark Romance)

by Clarissa Wild

  I do what he asks, and as I sit down on the opposite end of the same booth, he does so too. He places his gun on the table in front of us, but it’s still pointed right at me as though he’s taunting me.

  “What’s your name?” he asks.

  Sweat drips down my back as my pulse races. “Amelia.”

  His lip twitches again, just like before, almost as if he wants to smile but doesn’t.

  “Amelia …” The way he speaks my name as though he’s claiming every syllable for his own makes goose bumps scatter on my skin.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks in a low, commanding voice.

  I don’t know why he’d ask me that … or why he’d care.

  “I … I … I’m sorry, do I know you?” I mutter, confused by why this stranger with a fucking gun would save me from a dirty customer. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  My eyes flutter back and forth between him and the gun while I contemplate my options.

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Tell me what you’re doing here, Amelia. Why do you work here?” he asks, visibly upset.

  I frown. What kind of question is that? “I need to make money.”

  He lowers his head. “What for?”

  “To pay off my loans,” I spill out quickly, hoping it’ll appease him.

  It’s quiet for some time, uncomfortably so.

  His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Don’t let these fuckers touch you again.”

  Why would he care? Who is this guy? I thought he was trying to save me from that drunk, but now I feel as though it’s more than that. It’s almost as if … he wants something from me?

  “You got that?” he growls.

  I nod a few times.

  “Good girl,” he says with that same gravelly voice that makes all my senses come to life.

  He rummages around in his pocket and fishes out a stack of money so thick that it makes my eyes pop. He smacks it down on the table and points at it.

  “Take it.”

  I’m so damn confused right now. I didn’t give him anything—no drinks, nothing—so what’s he paying for. “Why?”

  The look on his face is serious. “Take. It.”

  I don’t think twice before I grab it and shove it in my pocket.

  I mean, I’m not saying no to free money, but there has to be a catch. No one would ever give a random girl this much money without wanting something in return. Maybe this guy wants me all to himself.

  I shiver at the thought. At the idea of those calloused hands that only just hovered over the trigger of his gun being gentle on my skin. At the idea of those eyes boring into mine while he’d force me to sit down with him. At the thought of his lips sliding down my neck while whispering filthy little commands into my ear, lulling me into submission.

  But he doesn’t.

  Instead, he sneers, “Leave.”

  My brows furrow. “What? Why?”

  “I gave you the money you’d earn tonight. Now get out of here.”

  I’m flabbergasted. Why would he do this? Why would he want me to go when he could have me all to himself for all this money? What would he gain from having me gone?

  “Go!” he says through gritted teeth, the menacing look on his face enough to make me jolt up and run.

  I don’t even take the time to tell Joe that I’m done for tonight. I just rush out the door, praying that this man, whoever he is, doesn’t come after me.

  Because I’m certain this won’t be the last time I see him.

  Chapter 2

  Eli

  I waited for her in the shadows of that strip joint, and when she finally appeared from behind the bar, she took my breath away. Her pretty black hair in pigtails and her petite body wrapped in a small red dress. When the men in there started looking at her like hungry wolves it made my blood boil.

  No one gets to look at her like that.

  No one … not even me.

  And when that fucker started touching her like he could, like he was allowed and she was there only for him, I had to intervene.

  I never intervene.

  This is rule number one of our House. Do not stop people from doing what they want. Observe, listen, then act.

  By stepping in, I inadvertently stopped her from doing what she needed to do, and it prevented me from seeing the truth unravel before me. The universal truth that is the basis of our very human nature—hunt or be hunted.

  But I couldn’t let her make that choice.

  I had to step in and get that fucker to take his hands off her because I couldn’t let him soil her. I couldn’t allow anyone to because I wanted her all to myself.

  And that is where I crossed the line.

  I knew it when I first saw her in the car that I’d make this decision, and I knew then I’d end up regretting it. Because this isn’t what we do, what I do.

  I watch … I judge … I punish.

  But if I succumb to lust, then I become the sinner.

  Still, I cannot resist.

  When she finally flees that godforsaken place after I told her to, I follow her outside. She can’t be too far up ahead, maybe a couple of steps. But I trail her inconspicuously, blending into the crowd of people partying tonight in this part of town.

  She walks right by them, careful not to bump into anyone even though they’re all looking at her because of the way she’s dressed. She didn’t even grab a coat off the rails near the exit of the strip joint. That’s how eager she was to leave … How scared she was of me.

  It’s a price I’d gladly pay to keep her out of evil’s hands.

  But I have to know, I need to see with my own two eyes, what she’s going to do.

  She skids across the pavement like she’s in a hurry to get home, her pale face even whiter than before as though she’s seen a ghost. But I’m not a figment of her imagination. I’m as real as can be. She’s going to wish I was merely a nightmare she could wake up from.

  Suddenly, she stops in her tracks, and I wait in an alley, peeking along the building to see what she’s up to.

  She pauses near a homeless guy sitting on the streets holding up a tiny bowl to the people walking right by him.

  But she didn’t. She saw him, and she stopped.

  For a split second, she looks around, so I duck behind a wall, hoping not to be seen.

  When I peer at her again, she fishes the wad of cash I gave her from her pocket and stuffs it into the beggar's bowl.

  The man looks up at her and smiles, but before he can say a word, she’s already gone.

  Whisked away by the wind like a beautiful, thoughtful, generous angel.

  And it moves me.

  A smile forms on my lips. “Maybe you aren’t such a sinner after all, little angel,” I mutter under my breath.

  I didn’t want to follow her, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  When I saw her on the streets, I knew she’d be the one.

  The one I needed to have.

  The one who could break me.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I think she’d give that cash I gave her to a homeless man. Loans aren’t easy to pay off and look at what she’s willing to do to straighten out her balance. She sells her body like a whore and doesn’t even mind. Still, she gives away the money I handed her freely as though it means nothing to her.

  That little angel is one to keep.

  One to admire. One to fear.

  Goose bumps scatter on my skin just from the thought.

  I know everything I need to know about this beautiful creature, this obsession of mine.

  Amelia

  On my way back home, I can’t stop looking at all the cars passing by. Every time one of them stops, I feel like they’re following me, or worse, that someone might step out to come and grab me.

  I blow out a breath and keep walking, determined not to let the cars distract me. It’s all in my mind anyway. No one’s coming to get me. I didn’t do anything wrong.

  But then why can’t I shake this feeling of imminent doom
?

  Because of that man at the club.

  That man who pointed a gun at the head of the guy who was touching me.

  It really did a number on me. Thinking about it still makes sweat pool in the small of my back.

  I texted my manager that I had to leave because of an emergency. I couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. What was I supposed to say? That a man with a gun threatened us and gave me a stack of cash to leave? He wouldn’t believe a word.

  My manager is used to fucked-up customers, but this story would take the cake. No one would pay a waitress to leave. Joe would probably think I didn’t want to work … and I’d get fired.

  I’d rather stay quiet and hope it doesn’t happen again.

  I swallow away the nerves as I watch some guys pass me by, and I quickly go inside the building I call home. With sweat drops rolling down my back, I step into the elevator and blow out a breath when the doors close.

  Momentary safety from a turbulent world.

  Just like the books I like to bury myself in.

  It’s such a shame they don’t have more work for me at the library so I could spend all my time there instead of a mere few hours. But I guess that comes with doing what you love. You have to make sacrifices. And my sacrifice is that I have to work two jobs. One being my dream job while the other is a way to pay the bills.

  When the elevator dings, I exit onto my floor and saunter to my apartment. I’m really looking forward to ditching these clothes and hopping into the shower. Just the thought brings a moderate smile to my face as I stick the keys into the lock and open my apartment door.

  As I step inside, I expect the television to blast me away, but it’s not turned on. Chris doesn’t appear to be home even though it’s late at night. Where could he be?

  Going into the bedroom, I quickly rid myself of this outfit sticking to my skin and throw it in a corner. It’s only then that I notice I forgot to close the curtains. I squeal and rush to the windows, covering my boobs. But as I briefly peer outside, my stomach drops, and I completely forget my own nudity.

  Chris is right there in front of the building … kissing another woman.

  I swallow as tears form in my eyes. I can’t stop staring at the way he wraps his arms around her and gazes at her with passion in his eyes. How heavy the pang of jealousy hits me … even harder than the soul-crushing pain of losing your love to another.

  The kiss he shares with her is passionate, greedy. A kiss I never dared to dream of.

  The way his hands palm her back so sweetly yet so warmly, as though he wishes for nothing more than to pull her closer, makes me clutch the curtains and sigh.

  This is the man I wanted but could never have.

  The man he promised to be for me.

  Given to another.

  A scowl forms on my face, and I slam open the wardrobe and tear out the hottest dress I can find, putting it on along with sky-high heels. Then I grab the reddest lipstick from my makeup drawer and purse my lips in front of the mirror, rolling the lipstick over my own salty, teared-up lips. And after glancing at the broken woman in the mirror one final time, I throw my keys, phone, and wallet in my purse and march out the door, slamming it shut behind me.

  Tears stream down my face, but he won’t find me here.

  Eli

  I wait in my car and stare at the couple making out on the pavement. I’m surprised they didn’t even make it to the apartment. Most people would be apprehensive to do these things in broad daylight, but not him, it seems.

  I clamp a cigar between my teeth and light it, taking a big whiff before rolling down my window to take a closer look. The two just can’t seem to get enough of each other, and the obscenity of their act almost makes me want to go over there and tear them apart.

  Someone should teach that guy a lesson. And I think I will … after I’m done with her.

  I blow out some of the smoke and stare at them until he finally notices me.

  I cock my head at the dude as he pulls his tongue out of the woman’s mouth and proceeds to stare me down in a threatening manner. But no man can easily intimidate me, especially not the likes of a disgusting pig like him.

  The guy’s grip on her waist softens, and he mouths something at her. She turns her head to me. The look in her eyes doesn’t change one bit. I wink. She nods.

  “Go,” I tell the driver, and I throw the cigar onto the street.

  As I roll up the window, the two stare me down until the car has long driven away. But it doesn’t matter how far I drive …

  Everyone will eventually catch up with their sins.

  Chapter 3

  Amelia

  Sixteen years ago

  I can only hold one of my grandmother’s hands because my other is locked tightly in a sling. The tears flow freely down my cheeks as I look at the casket being rolled out onto the streets. Six men shove it into a black car while we watch from a distance.

  Everyone thought I’d be afraid of cars after what happened, but I’m not. It’s not the car’s fault that the road was too narrow at the bend and that we fell off a deep cliff.

  I swallow hard.

  There isn’t much family left to mourn, just me and my grandpa and grandma. That’s it.

  Will my tears be enough?

  If I cried hard enough, would Mommy hear it?

  Would she come back?

  Mommy said she and Daddy would always come back to me when they left … but she lied.

  I sniff as Grandma squeezes my hand a little tighter. The second casket is rolled out of the funeral home, and my grandpa walks out too, burying a tissue deep into his pocket. Mommy once said grandparents don’t ever cry because they have already cried all the tears they had, but I guess she was wrong.

  Just like she was wrong when she told me she would always be here for me.

  That she’d cheer me on every time I got a good grade and watch me grow old.

  My heart aches as the six men load up the second casket too, and the doors are closed, the harsh sound like a slap to my face. The pain in my arm doesn’t even come close to the pain in my heart.

  And as the driver starts the car, and my grandparents whisk me away into theirs, I can’t help but stare at the one my mommy and daddy are in right now, wondering why they’re not here … and I am.

  Amelia

  Present

  I grab a cab to Club M, the nearest club I frequent. Tonight, I can really use a pick-me-up under a heavy bass to drown out the pain with noise and pretend everything is okay. I smile at the bouncer out front, who nods at me when I show him my ID, and then I go inside.

  I look around at seats in the corners and the two staircases leading to the second floor that oversees the rest of the dance floor. Maybe I’ll hang out there as I’m not in the mood for dancing, and the usual popular spot seems empty tonight.

  Heading to the bar, I order a drink, then make my way upstairs. It’s still busy with a bustling crowd dancing in the corner, and the couch in the back is obviously taken by a bunch of rich dudes and their posse of money-hungry girls.

  I pay them no attention as I lean over the banister and wistfully stare out at the scene below, at the people dancing their night away, blissfully unaware of the emotional gash inside my heart bleeding out onto the dance floor below.

  “Wishing the night away?”

  I prop myself up on my elbow and look up at a man I never saw approaching from the side. A man I instantly recognize. Green eyes, smoldering look, slick dark hair, chiseled jaw. It’s him.

  My jaw drops, and my veins flood with adrenaline as my eyes search his. How did he get inside? Did he come here for me?

  He takes a step forward. “Miss me?”

  I look over the banister at the people below, but no one down there or any of the people behind me know what’s happening. Everyone seems unaware of the peril I’m in … except me.

  Both staircases are blocked, one by plenty of guests, and to get to the other, I’d have to pass him. And something tells
me that’s going to be hard, maybe even impossible.

  I gulp and contemplate my options as I peer down at the crowd, wondering if I could make the jump without breaking a bone. Probably not.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says, immediately drawing my attention away again.

  “Who are you? Did you follow me?” I mutter, taking a step back again, my hand still clutching the railing.

  His brow rises playfully. “Is that really the question you want to ask me?”

  He doesn’t stop getting closer, and I can’t help but pull back into my shell, wondering how I’m going to escape. If I even can.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he says, placing a hand on the banister too. “Not unless you ask me to.”

  My eyes immediately zoom in on the spot where he kept his gun last time, but his expensive suit covers it. He smiles and slides aside the flaps. “I’m not carrying. I didn’t want to scare you, so I left it in the car.”

  “Too late for that.” My stance grows rigid as I stop moving away and slam my lips together. “What do you want?”

  He takes another step, eyeing me down as if he’s testing me. To try to see if I run or if I’m up for the challenge.

  I stay put, even when my heart screams for me to flee.

  I cannot give another man the pleasure of winning. Not this time. Not tonight.

  “What I want is irrelevant to this situation you’re in …” he murmurs.

  A few fingers suddenly caressing the top of my hand tear my eyes away from his. But before I can pull my hand back, he’s grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the banister.

  “And your situation seems quite precarious.”

  “My situation? What are you talking about?” I taunt.

  I know damn well what kind of danger I’m in when I’m near a guy like him, but I won’t show that to him. The devilish smile forming on his lips tells me he’s a man who enjoys that kind of thing. The hunt. The chase. Seeing a woman on her knees, begging. That type. But I’m not here to indulge him in his needs.