by Lily White
He’s beautiful, this man, even for as much of an asshole as he is.
Surprise fills my voice, “You’re letting me go?”
A shake of his head, his hair falling forward over his forehead. “No. I’m just letting you out of the room.”
For such a small thing, his demeanor is guarded, his shoulders tense. I guess this is a step in the right direction, but his behavior is unsettling.
Pushing to his feet, he walks to the door and glances at me, something unsaid behind those clear grey eyes. “Get dressed and come out when you’re ready.”
I push up to a sitting position, the sheet sliding down to pool at my waist. Ari’s eyes follow the material as it falls, hovering there at my hips before lifting again.
“Why do I get the feeling I don’t want to leave this room?”
He’s scaring me for a reason I can’t understand, the hair on my arms lifting, goose bumps prickling across my skin.
“Because you don’t,” is all he says before walking out of the room. Except rather than shutting the door, he leaves it open, a hallway stretching out in front of it, light streaming through from another doorway to the right.
I watch Ari turn the corner, listen to his footsteps retreat.
Silence descends, and I hesitate before pulling the sheet from my legs to crawl from bed and go in the bathroom.
After taking a shower and getting dressed in the clothes that mysteriously appear on the counter near the sink, I take a deep breath and prepare myself for whatever it is he has waiting for me.
How bad can it be?
It’s probably best not to ask that question. I know nothing about this man except the fact that he likes to play games regardless of how they destroy me.
Fuck. I don’t even know his real name or where I am.
My legs are unsteady as I creep down the hallway on bare feet, the long t-shirt he gave me fluttering at my thighs. As usual, the jerk didn’t give me pants to wear, but the shirt covers enough not to feel completely exposed.
Reaching the doorway where the light pours through, I close my eyes and suck in a breath, my hand sliding against the wall as I turn the corner and force my eyes open.
The first thing I notice is a large wall of windows looking out over the city, Ari’s large form leaning back against it, his arms crossed over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other.
He doesn’t turn to look at me, just stares straight ahead. He appears so vulnerable at that moment, stripped bare. The usual darkness that clings to him gone as if he’s stepped out from where he usually hides to reveal the man he is.
And then I notice the gleam of sunlight over a black grand piano, my eyes scanning deeper into the room to see he lives in a penthouse that must cost a fortune.
Sunlight bathes the dark wood floors, shines brightly against built in bookshelves on a far wall, glimmers over the glass of several photographs displayed.
Recognition of those photos hits me immediately as I step foot into the room.
Walking up to the first, I touch the glass with my fingertips, my thoughts going back to when these were sold.
Over a year before I married Grant. Over a year before Ari appeared in front of me in a cemetery where I mourned my father.
Over a year...
I turn to look at him, and he continues staring straight ahead. He’s refusing to gauge my reaction, just allowing me to explore the space that I now understand is a story that goes much deeper than I know.
I move to the next photo, and the next. Turn to see the newest ones all piled up against another wall.
Standing in the center of the room, I turn slowly to see a cello in one corner, a guitar in another. My eyes drift to the bookshelf and I step closer to realize every book is one I’ve read.
All parts of my life. Pieces of me. This room is filled with everything that I am.
Fear douses me as realization comes flooding in. This man knew me before I ever knew him. He intentionally sought me out while pretending it was the first time he laid eyes on me.
“How long?” I ask, my voice shredding the chilling silence between us. I spin to face him. “How long have you been watching me?”
All he does is lift his hand to hit a button on a remote I didn’t see he was holding. The Noose by A Perfect Circle begins playing.
It’s my favorite song.
We stand several feet apart, both of us unmoving, my stare locked to his face while he refuses to look back at me.
And as the music pours through the verses on a crescendo of sound, the anger inside me builds with it, my feet storming across the floor as I march toward him to slam my palms against his chest.
“How fucking long?” I yell.
He doesn’t move, his body a cement wall beneath my hands, but those eyes swing to mine, so clear against the sunlight that bathes the room.
“You’ve met me before,” he answers with no emotion in his voice. “Think back.”
I hit him again, my hands slapping his chest as I lose control. “I have no idea who the fuck you are! How fucking long, Ari? Tell me!”
No reaction except for a slow blink of his eyes, thick dark lashes fanning against his skin before he lifts them. His voice is soft when he speaks again, haunting against the music that continues to play.
“Your car was towed downtown one day, and you almost got yourself killed when you stepped in front of a bike messenger. I was so angry with you. At first, at least. You never pay attention to what’s going on around you.”
The memory comes back to me in a flash, so sudden that I step back to look at him. His face makes sense in that moment, where I’d seen him before. It wasn’t from the cemetery, it was from a rainy sidewalk where I’d admitted to a stranger that I was getting engaged.
Oh, my God...
“Was that the first time you saw me?”
The tick of his jaw is my answer.
His head drops and he stares at his feet. “On your eighteenth birthday, you went to a club with your boyfriend. You got into a fight and then you drank too much. A man attacked you...”
My blood runs cold as he recounts the incident.
Eighteen.
So many years ago.
Backing away from him, I shake my head, refuse to listen as he admits how he drove me home that night, tucked me into bed. How we almost fucked in his car if I hadn’t gotten sick.
My hands are shaking, my heart pounding in my throat, and I continue stepping back as if the distance can save me from a man who has been stalking me for years.
A man who has me trapped.
A man who knows everything about me.
Every night you scream and fight and cry. It’s been like that for years...
What he said makes sense now. And terrifies me to the bone.
Stumbling on unbalanced feet, I can’t take my eyes off him. Not now that I’ve seen him in the light of truth. How long has he been planning this? What can I do now that he has me?
“I’m leaving,” I say, not knowing how I’ll accomplish it.
Ari’s eyes snap to me, anger rolling behind them, his jaw so tight it hurts me to look at it.
“You’re not. You can’t access the elevator without a key and a passcode, the walls are soundproof so screaming won’t do you any good. And unless you feel like breaking a window to jump thirty-five floors to your death, you won’t be going anywhere unless I let you.”
Stilling in place, I absorb his words, the finality of them like a period at the end of a sentence. You’re here. This is where I put you. You won’t get away now.
Rebellion blooms inside me, a brilliant red heat that infects every cell, my brain so full of it that I don’t give a fuck what he will do when I fight against him.
Another man tried to beat me down, and I’d survived that. I’m not worried about this asshole and his apparent obsession.
“You may have me trapped, but don’t you dare ever touch-“
He lunges forward and cages me against a wall, his body
towering over mine, his head dipping down until his nose traces the line of my jaw, his breath hot against my skin.
“And what will you do about it, Adeline? Tell me? I’d love to hear all the ways you’ll keep me from taking what’s always been mine. It’s worked so well for you so far, hasn’t it?”
Ari’s fingertips drag up my thighs, pulling the t-shirt with them, but then he moves to grab the backs of my legs and lift them up, pinning me with his hips between them.
I tremble to feel the line of his rigid cock, to know how turned on he is. Tears slip from my eyes, and he stares down at me without caring what he’s done.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”
Head dipping further he speaks against my ear.
“I know all your fantasies. All your secret thrills. You want to be torn open and dominated, want a man to take without asking. Want this demon to fight you into submission because that’s just the type of dirty little girl you are.”
His hips buck forward and my body is shoved up the wall, my breasts tight against his chest, my lips slightly open as a breath shudders out of me.
“You can’t hide from me.”
Ari grips my chin and forces my face to his, our eyes locking in battle, a grin tilting those cruel fucking lips that lie and lie and lie.
He’s not lying now.
I slap at him, my palm slamming his cheek so hard it vibrates down my arm. Ari’s head snaps left, but then slowly turns back to me.
“What else you got?”
Slapping him again, I claw at his skin, but he pushes into it, enjoys it, doesn’t care about the blood that trickles in tiny little rivulets.
He catches my wrist and pulls my hand from his face, glaring at me with explosive heat behind his eyes.
“You used to fight when you were younger. I watched it. Wanted it. Enjoyed it. And you can fight me now all you fucking want just as long as you know I will have you in the end. I will keep you. I will own you because I’ve been the shadow protecting you all these years from all the other pricks who only wanted to destroy you.”
Reaching between us, he rips my panties aside and pulls his cock from his pants. Our eyes remain locked, mine narrowing as he searches my face for any reaction to what he’ll do.
I refuse to give him one.
Mouth against my cheek, he nips at my jaw. “That’s it, baby bird, show me how much you hate me.”
He thrusts inside me, and my mouth falls open at the sensation of being filled. His stare drops to my lips, and he grins while keeping his body still.
“I’ll eventually fuck those lips when you get over your petty bullshit, but until then, your greedy little cunt will do.”
He holds my jaw in place as he moves his hips, his cock pulling out to the tip before thrusting in again. And he’s right. My body does love this, responding by getting so wet the sound of it drifts up to my ears as his eyes pin mine.
My body is a traitor, an orgasm just on the precipice, building as this man, this stalker, fucks me in a penthouse filled with my life, the music I hear all songs that I love, his scent dragging me into temporary submission because it is so fucking familiar now that I know where I’d first smelled it.
And as he drives into me so hard that my back slides against the wall, I watch his face while memories pour through me, little snippets in time where he is suddenly there...watching. Waiting. Building his complicated web that will eventually ensnare me.
He drops his mouth and bites my shoulder, and the pain sets me off, my body trembling with an orgasm that is filthy and wet, my pussy gripping him as my hands dive into his hair to rip at the black silk and drive the pain right back to him.
It only gets him off.
Pulling out of me, he comes down my leg, each hot spurt accompanied by a grin on his cruel lips and his eyes trapping mine.
Our hearts beat in tandem, our breath colliding between us.
“Do you understand now?” he asks, his voice a bare whisper.
When I nod my head, he releases me and yanks the waistband of his pants up over his cock.
“Good. Then I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to explore, Adeline. Open cabinets, go through boxes, take a good long look at the life you’ve lived while I’ve been watching.”
So sophisticated is his swagger as he leaves the room, his shoulders broad, his back tight with muscle.
He turns a corner, and I sink down to sit on the floor, my eyes staring at where he’d last been before they move over all the proof of how well he truly knows me.
The only thing I can think is that I still have no idea who the hell he is.
Ari
I stand in the shower absolutely dumbfounded over the fact that Adeline is, at this very moment, going through the truth of the past seven years, her curious little fingers pulling apart boxes where she’d find pictures and souvenirs, journal pages I’d ripped out and kept, the fake IDs I took from her when she was underage.
There was so much hidden in every corner, behind cabinet doors, in the pages of the books she read and wherever else I could secret it away. This obsession. This hellscape. The trap she’d set so many years ago when she ran to her father’s body after hearing the gunshot.
She wasn’t supposed to be in the house that night.
I’d been assured Liam Kane would be the only person home.
Yet, there she was. Crying for him. Her voice calling out into the darkness until I couldn’t walk away. I’d never seen the aftermath of the things I did. The murders I’d committed.
Sure, I saw the news, the fake, puffy faced bravery as the family thanks the public for their support, the usual generic words as people pay their condolences, the warnings of whatever supposed affliction killed the person.
But I’ve never seen the moment they’re found. Never heard a person crying over the body.
Never had a moment when I turned around to see the carnage I left behind.
I would kill the person who ordered that hit if he wasn’t already dead. Fucking strangle him for the years I’ve spent obsessing over Adeline.
And now she’s discovering the truth. And sadly, what she’ll find isn’t even the worst of it.
How long?
I’d tap danced around answering that question, hat shaking in one hand, cane in the other. A fucking vaudeville performance complete with jazz hands and fancy jacket to keep from admitting the truth that would destroy her if she knew.
My hand slams on the handle to shut off the water, and I stand dripping in place, my eyes closed against the steam, my mind racing through all the horrible things I still have to do to her.
We will fight.
She will remember herself.
And I’ll hate myself during every second of it because she never deserved what’s happened to her.
When it comes down to the root cause of it, Adeline has some seriously shitty luck in life.
Which means I have some seriously shitty luck in life. Because she’s mine. Every screwed up part of her.
Fucking hell...
But I guess it’s better the devil you know and all that. Or the danger, in my case. Because that’s what I am. A danger. A disaster that has been slowly creeping up on her in the darkness of night, in the cloak of shadow.
I won’t destroy her. Not fully.
Not like every other asshole in her life would have.
Adeline knows me.
She just doesn’t know she knows me.
She’ll thank me for this...eventually.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Getting dressed, I dread having to go out there, but I put one foot in front of the other.
I’m prepared to find my entire penthouse destroyed in Adeline’s search for answers, ready to duck if necessary should she try to fight for her freedom, but when I poke my head around the corner to check for what weapons she’s gathered, all I find is her small form frozen by the windows, her eyes cast out over a city that doesn’t know she’s looking out at
it.
Palms splayed against the glass, she stares unblinking, her naked legs poking out from beneath her t-shirt, her hair a mess from when I’d fucked her. She doesn’t turn when I walk up behind her, stopping just short of touching her.
Her line of sight is directed at the church beneath us, and I steal that moment just like I’ve stolen everything else because I refuse to let her bring that asshole into my penthouse. Even if just in thought.
Stepping up so that my chest is to her back, I place my hands over hers, trapping them against the glass, my head dipping down until my breath cascades down the line of her neck.
“You never have to worry about him again, and I would appreciate it if you forget you ever knew him.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her body unmoving, no fight to pull away from my touch.
“Did you watch me get married?”
And we’re back to the questions. At least this one I can answer.
“Yes.”
She becomes quiet again, her body thrumming with nerves, shaking even though she doesn’t move away from me.
“Not that it matters. He doesn’t exist anymore. The city you’re looking at doesn’t exist anymore. The only thing that exists in your world right now is me.”
Her body jolts at my words, anger a vibration just beneath her skin. Still, she does nothing to argue with me. To fight. To tell me where to shove my claim on her life.
I can see her face in the reflection of the window, just barely, just enough to know her brows have tugged together and she’s chewing her bottom lip.
“How long?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
Adeline rips her hands from mine, spins to face me and shoves her palms against my chest to knock me back.
“Fine. If you won’t answer that one, then tell me your fucking name.”
Anger blazes behind blue eyes, that fire I’ve missed so much. She’s coming back to me slowly, except I have to wonder what she will do when I lose my patience and fight back.
Grant fought her, the fucking prick, and she folded. This burst of hatred won’t last. I know it. She doesn’t.
“I’m not telling you that either.”
Another slam of her hands against my chest, the skin between her eyes crinkling. “Then what will you tell me?”
