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Stalker
  • Текст добавлен: 12 октября 2016, 03:30

Текст книги "Stalker "


Автор книги: Clarissa Wild



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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

CHAPTER 27

VANESSA

Prom Night

Miles drove me home after our night together. It’s way past midnight, and I’m sure that when my mother finds out that I’m back home, she’ll kill me. Especially if she finds out I ran off with him … And then there’s the fact that I’m no longer a virgin.

Oh, god.

She’s really going to kill me, which is why I’m not going through the front door.

I make my way to the back of the house where there’s a tree, and I grab a tree branch and pull to see if it’s safe. It seems thick enough, so I put one foot against the trunk and pull myself up.

Something’s stuck on my foot, however, and I can’t hold my balance. I’m pulled down the tree and land on the dirty soil headfirst.

Only when I open my eyes do I notice my mother standing right above me.

It was her hand that dragged me down.

What are you doing?”

“Mother, I—”

“Trying to escape my punishment, hmm?” she says.

She kicks the dirt around me, and I spit out the earth that’s almost inside my mouth.

“Get up!” she spits.

“Mother, I’m sorry—”

“Ah,” she interrupts as I get up from the floor. “I don’t want to hear any of it.”

“But—”

“You’re late. You didn’t come home with Phillip. And now I find you here, trying to climb a tree? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“I can explain,” I say, as she grabs my arm.

“No, you’re coming inside right now,” she says, pulling me toward the front door.

As we step inside, I see someone sitting in the living room, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. In shock, I stare as he turns around to face me.

“Hello, Vanessa.” It’s Phillip.

“What are you doing here?” I say.

“The question is, why weren’t you here?” my mother says.

I exchange looks with the two of them, but I come up with nothing. He’s here, but why? After what he did, he shouldn’t even dare to come near me. I’m almost inclined to pick up a glass from the table and throw it at his face.

“Don’t,” my mother says, stepping in front of me. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re not going to do anything.” She looks deep into my eyes, grabbing my chin to make me look at her, too. “I know everything. I know what happened. And you’re not going to get away with this.”

I swallow, pushing back the tears at the sight of my mother picking someone else’s side. Again. “If you know everything, then you know he didn’t protect me either.”

“You’d better keep your mouth shut, Vanessa.” Her fingers curl around my lips. “Or I’ll make sure you will.”

“You don’t care about me at all, do you? I just told you that he stood by and watched while his friend tried to assault me and you don’t even blink?” I say, my voice fluctuating in tone.

My mother shoves me against the wall. “You will not speak of it again. Do you hear me?” she hisses, her saliva shooting out onto the wall like a snake spits venom. “You’ll forget what you saw. What he did to you. You’ll only remember that boy … Miles … and that he hit Phillip’s friend in a fit of rage.”

“No!” I yell, pushing her off me. “That’s not true!”

“You will lie when asked about it!” Her voice rises. “Or I will make sure that boy meets the fate he’s so eager to bring others.”

For a moment, it’s quiet, and I can hear only exasperated breaths and my own heart beating in my throat. Phillip just stares at us with a slight smile on his face, like this is amusing to him. Like he’s won. I squint and make a face at him. Those who don’t deserve it always have the sourest wins.

“You know the school is going to hear about this,” I say after a while, folding my arms.

“Yes, and when they do, you will lie to them.” She turns her head toward Phillip. “You won’t implicate Phillip in any way.”

“Then what do you want me to do? If I lie, they’ll know. Miles will tell the truth.”

She glances at me over her shoulder. “And who do you think they’ll believe? You or some petty rat?”

I wince. “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh, then what would you like me to call him? A pest? An idiot? Your lover?”

“Stop it,” I say.

“Your lover?”

“I said stop!”

She suddenly marches toward me and grabs my throat. “Make no mistake, Vanessa. I might be your mother, but I am first and foremost a businesswoman, and when something threatens my business, I take care of it. You will marry Phillip so our families can be united, and nothing will stand in the way of that happening.”

“I will stand in the way.”

“Don’t you dare try … or I will make sure Miles never sees another sunrise again.”

“You wouldn’t …” I mutter.

“Kill him?” She smiles, and so does Phillip when their eyes connect. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t done it before … and it’s not like he’s useful.”

“He’s useful to me!” I yell.

“Stop it,” she says. “He was never useful to anyone. He’s just a pathetic kid who craves attention. He’s not worthy of your love. Phillip is.” She points at him. “You will lie to the principal so Miles will get expelled. If you don’t, I will have him killed.”

My lips quiver as she lets go of my throat. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My mother … she’s a monster.

“I love him, Mother.”

She looks down at the floor and starts laughing. First softly, and then hysterically. Like she’s lost her mind. “You don’t love him. Don’t mistake a one-night fling for love.”

“I know what love feels like, Mother. And I can clearly tell you have no clue about any of it.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Just because you acted like a whore does not make it love, my dear.”

“I am not a whore! Miles cares about me! More than any of you,” I yell, pointing at them both.

My mother muffles a laugh. “Silly girl. Don’t you see? There are far more important things to worry about in life, and this is simply not it. Try to understand.”

“I won’t. I won’t ever understand. I refuse,” I say, slamming my lips together.

“So be it,” she says.

Phillip gets up from his seat, buttoning his vest as if he’s done listening. “I don’t think I’m needed any longer,” he says.

“You were never needed,” I say.

“Vanessa, dear, stop talking,” my mother muses. “You’ve said enough.”

“I won’t let you hurt him,” I say.

She cocks her head and smiles at me in the most creepy way, like she’s possessed. And I know with what: Power. “Well, then … If you want him to live, I guess you’ll just have to do exactly what I say.”

***

PHOENIX

Present

Her entire life story makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest and hand it to her on a platter.

“I loved you, Miles,” she says, placing her hand on my cheek. “I always did.” She swallows. “And I still do.”

She’s ruined me. Destroyed me. And now, after all these years, I finally learn the truth about her choice, our lives. The reason why I could never be with her, even though we both wanted to.

It was never my choice to separate… but it was never hers, either.

All these years, I thought that she yearned power, the wrong kind of power, the kind that came with lies and deceit. Now, I realize, she chose to do what anyone would do for the person they loved.

She wanted to protect me, and to do that she had to burn whatever was left of her feelings for me. Just to keep me alive … to give me a chance … even if it meant a life without her.

She knew full well what it would do to me. How it would shape me into a man bent on achieving greatness, determined to show her that I could be anything and everything she ever wanted.

But I already was everything she wanted … everything she couldn’t have because of her family. Her family has caused all our problems, all these lies, all these broken hearts.

I make a fist with my hand. “Your family did this?”

“They wanted what was best for me, even though it wasn’t what I needed.”

“No, they wanted what was best for them,” I growl.

“I agree on that part, but it won’t help. We can’t change the past. They needed an alliance for my father’s campaign, and they got one through my marriage with Phillip.” She looks up at me with those wicked eyes of her, as if she could burn a building down just for me. “Believe me when I say I hate them as much as you do. I made sure his family paid the full price.” She grinds her teeth. “I killed his mother.”

This fact doesn’t surprise me. I’m more interested in what she did to her own mother. “And yours?”

She licks her lips. “I haven’t been able to …”

“You can’t kill your own mother.”

“No …” she sighs. “I’m weak.”

“You’re not weak for not being able to kill someone,” I say, grabbing her shoulders. “But you did lie to my face. That was a weakness. You could’ve told me what she was doing.”

“No. If I did that, then you wouldn’t have left me alone. You would never have accepted it,” she says.

Which is kind of true. I wouldn’t ever have left her side if I knew her mother was the orchestrator behind all her actions.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It was the only way I knew how to save you. To stop her from reaching out to you … to stop everything.” She smiles at me. “As long as you believed it, so would she.”

She sacrificed her own life—her wishes and her dreams—in order to save my life.

I take her hand off my face, turn around, and get out of the bed. I have to get out for a second. I need a breath of fresh air … away from her and the truth.

Jesus Christ. It’s just a little too much to take in all at once.

“Where are you going?” she asks as I open the door.

“I need … I’m just going for a walk,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. “You need to rest. Try to get some sleep.”

And then I walk out the door, leaving her alone with her emotions.

I shouldn’t. It’s bad, but I can’t help myself. After all we’ve been through, I can’t just turn my back on my own goal. My goal was to make her suffer, and now look at me. I’m turning into a fucking puddle of goo, all because of her side of the story.

Our story. Goddammit. I wish I knew this before.

I clean up her puke with a towel first, and then I kick the bag containing Drago’s body down the stairs.

Maybe burying his body will give me some much-needed time to think about this. To think about us and what the fuck I’m going to do with her now that I know what she did for me.

It’s hard. It’s so fucking hard; I can’t decide what to do. Continue with using and abusing her, or forgive her and move on.

Maybe there’s even a possibility …

No.

How could there be, after stabbing each other in the back so many times?

There’s nothing redeemable about us. Nothing that makes us good. Nothing that makes us worthy of love. Not me or her.

However, I still can’t stop yearning for it all. And I know she does, too.

***

A few hours later

Working with a shovel to dig up the sand has given my mind some time to store the emotions that came with hearing her story. I’m beat; sweat drips down my forehead as I’ve finally buried the body below the earth.

It’s done and over with; time to go back inside.

Thunder bangs around me, and I run my fingers through my wet hair. The rain is clashing on the roof as I walk upstairs and go into her bedroom to check up on her. She’s sound asleep, still in the bed, as she’s supposed to be. Of course, there’s no way to escape with me right in front of the door. Not that she could, as she seemed tired from the assault. And even if she could, I know that she wouldn’t … she wouldn’t run away from me, not anymore.

Not now that she told me she still loves me.

She won’t run away from me because she probably believes there’s still something worth saving.

I shake my head, wishing it were true.

I walk to the closet where I keep the assistant and give her something to eat. It takes her a while to swallow it all, as she spends half her time shouting at me instead of chewing. When she’s done, I give her something to drink through a straw. Then I stuff her mouth with the cloth again and chuck her back into the closet.

I go into the bathroom to take a nice hot shower. The water cascading down on my shoulders is a good distraction, although I still can’t seem to take my mind off her.

Vanessa. So beautifully ruined by life. Just like me.

I can’t help but feel attracted. It’s in my nature to want the things I can’t have … to desire things that are sinful.

The more I think about her, the less I can stop picturing her naked in that bed. I wonder if she’s dreaming about me the same way I’m thinking about her right now.

I sigh, looking down at the tub while the water runs down my fingers. I feel so empty, and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m used to the rage and the bloodlust coursing through my veins. But now … now there is nothing. Nothing, except an unending need. A need for her, in whatever way I can have her.

Goddammit.

I smack the wall, but it doesn’t stop the lust from building up inside me. I can’t stop thinking about her, can’t stop wondering how it could’ve been if we’d made different choices in life. Her lips, her body, her mind, her heart, it could’ve all been mine, if only …

Fuck.

I drop my head to the wall, and let the water slide down my back, warming my ass and legs. Just thinking about her now has made me half-hard, and for some reason, I feel fucking bad about it. This isn’t me. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit if I got a hard-on; I’d just get over there and fuck her. Or, if she wasn’t around, I’d make do with a jerk. So I don’t get what the problem is now; why I’m suddenly feeling shit out of nowhere.

I bring my hand to my cock and start pulling, desperate to prove to myself that I’m still myself. I’m still a fucking rock, a man who can handle anything put in his path. I jerk until my cock is erect and bouncing up and down with need, wanting so badly to sink itself into a beautiful pussy like Vanessa’s … the only pussy it wants.

Fucking hell.

After making it thump, I stop jerking my cock and shout a few swear words into the air. I can’t fucking do it. No matter how much I try, I can’t fucking do it anymore.

I used to be able to fucking jerk-off to the thought of choking her to death. That’s how fucked up I was.

Now, all I can do is drool over her and her luscious body, her devious mind, and her sweet, delicious smile. Goddammit, she’s like a fucking annoying vixen … a tortured one at that.

I turn the faucet off, dry myself off, wrap the towel around my waist, and make my way back to the bedroom.

When I open the door, I find her rummaging around in the bed.

At first, I think she’s attempting something, like an escape or an attack, but then I notice her eyes are still closed.

She’s still dreaming.

The noises she makes sound like she’s in danger, physically in pain, emotionally distraught. Groaning, she rolls back and forth, fighting with the air around her. She gasps and grabs her own throat, screaming my name.

I step closer and grab her arms, but she won’t stop, so I crawl on top of her, and whisper into her ear, “Stop. It’s me.”

“Get off me!” she screams, but her eyes aren’t even open yet.

It’s him. She’s not dreaming about me. She’s dreaming about him. Drago. The man who tried to take from her what belongs to me.

The idea alone intensifies my need to claim her again, and to stop her from thinking about him ever again. So I force her on her belly and hold her down as she thrashes around in the bed.

“Calm down,” I say, although it’s causing the exact opposite within my own body. Lying on top of her with a raging hard-on only makes me hornier.

“No!” she screams.

“Yes,” I whisper. “You’re dreaming about him, aren’t you? Drago.”

“He’s on top of me …” she murmurs.

“What is he doing?” I ask, shoving her hands above her head so she can’t move.

“He’s trying to …” She sniffs.

I knew it. She keeps repeating the same scene over and over in her head of him assaulting her. She can’t get him out of her mind, and I hate to see her this way. I don’t want him there; this position, and everything about her, should be mine.

And the way I’m lying on top of her now is probably exactly what he did to her when he found her in the attic. I can’t let her keep that memory; I can’t let it break her. If there’s anything that’ll break her, it’ll be me and only me.

Because I am the only one who can bring her back to one piece again.

The towel drapes off me, and as I lie naked on top of her, my erection poking her ass. Her eyes finally shoot open, immediately aimed at me.

“Phoenix?” she whispers.

I move in and place a kiss on her neck while pushing my fingers underneath her, sliding them down her belly. “Yes, Princess. It’s me.”

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, her eyes red. “Oh, god … I had such a bad dream.”

“Shh …” I say, placing a finger on her lips.

My hand drifts further down until I reach her pussy, which makes her gasp. “Phoenix?”

“Quiet,” I whisper. “Don’t talk.”

“No, what are you doing?” she says, as I start to rub her.

“What I’m supposed to do.” I reach down and circle around her clit.

“No, not now …”

“Yes, now; it needs to be now.”

“But that man, he … he …”

“I know what he did.”

“You don’t understand,” she says. “He tried to—”

“Shh … I know, sweet cheeks.” I place a kiss underneath her ear while I rub her faster and faster.

She tries to move. “No, please. Get off me, Phoenix.”

“This has to happen.”

“I can’t,” she says, gasping for air as if her lungs are restricted. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s because he tried to do this too, didn’t he?”

She nods. “I don’t want it … the memories …”

“I know, Princess. I’m going to take them all away.”

***

VANESSA

He fondles me, in a way that makes me feel disgusted, vulnerable. Ruined.

I remember his smell, his foul stench, the way he lisped in my ear as he touched me in places I didn’t want him to touch. He didn’t listen to me. Instead, he groped me up a wall and tried to take me without permission.

That man … he haunts my mind.

Why? Why can’t I escape these memories?

They control my thoughts, even my nightmares.

Sweat covers my body, and Phoenix is lying on top of me, doing what no man should ever do. And yet, he’s doing it anyway.

He’s touching me, provoking me, wanting me to feel the sensations of lust even though they are anything but appropriate right now. I feel humiliated, and a part of me wishes it to stop. It feels so wrong. So violent. The way he lies on top of me as if he wants to take my breath away.

Much like that man tried to when he …

I yelp from the heartache as Phoenix plays with my privates.

“Let me make it all go away, Princess,” he says.

“No … I don’t want it. Not like this,” I whisper into my pillow.

Phoenix places his hand on my back, near my neck, squashing me into the bed. “It has to be this way. Only like this will you be able to forget.”

I can feel his hard-on poking my ass, and it makes me want to scratch him. How dare he do this to me? After what I just went through?

“I’m trying to make it all better for you, Vanessa,” he whispers in my ear as he slides his fingers up and down my pussy.

“I don’t know, I don’t know …” I repeat. “All I can think of—”

“Shh, I know. Just focus on the here and now. Focus on me,” he says, pushing his fingers in and out of me.

A tear rolls down my cheek. “Please … stop it all. I can’t take it,” I say.

“Yes, you can. I know you can,” he says. “I won’t let your mind be consumed by this. Not by him,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to my cheek. “If there is anyone going to consume you, it’s me.”

“What?” I gasp, but he doesn’t answer.

Instead, he takes his fingers out and smears my wetness across my pussy.

“I can’t see you like this, Vanessa. You can’t let him win. That’s what he wanted. That’s why he did it,” he says.

“He wanted me to remember his act?” I say, fazing out.

It’s the middle of the night, and Phoenix is using his lust to overpower me, making me feel weak. Used, and for the first time, really hurt. It’s not caused by him though, but by that man. There’s a gap in my soul, and Phoenix is trying to mend it in his own fucked-up way.

“Yes. Don’t let it control you. Let me in,” he says. “Let me in.”

He pushes in and out until I’m wet enough, and then his cock sinks into my pussy from behind. I take a deep breath as he buries it to the hilt, my eyes springing open. Phoenix places his hand over my mouth and the other on the back of my head, forcing me into the pillow.

“Don’t fight it. Let me in,” he repeats. “Let me be the one from your memories.”

He goes slow, thrusting in and out with deep strokes, taking his time to soothe me into what’s happening. I’m not sure if I’m really awake or if I’m still dreaming. I don’t know if this is a nightmare and I’m about to wake up.

And then he whispers, “I’m not going to hurt you. Let me help.”

I don’t know why, but that statement makes my heart go numb.

What I feel is real. This isn’t a dream. I am awake, and Phoenix is taking over my body to make me forget about the real nightmare.

The honest truth. He’s creating a perfect lie.

For me.

The moment that I realize why he’s doing this, I let it all go.

My muscles relax, my eyes partially close, and my heartbeat is calm as Phoenix pushes in and out of me, still holding me down to emulate the memory. He’s not doing this for my pleasure or his. He’s doing this to replace one memory with another. To erase the bad from my heart and replace it with his own.

He’s making himself the bad guy in order to save me.

“Forgive me,” he whispers into my ear, the sound echoing like the beating of a drum.

“It’s okay,” I murmur into his hand, focusing on the groaning sounds he makes. I close my eyes and smell his scent, picturing his face, his smile, his hair, his piercings, his muscular body, and all the things that I remember. I feel him, lying on top of me, penetrating my body, and I’m accepting his invasion. I feel zoned out and yet I’m completely at the moment. So free. So broken. So messed up. And it’s okay.

He leans in and presses another kiss to my cheek. “Don’t think about anything but you and me. There’s nothing else, nothing in between. Just you and me.”

Nodding, I let my body rise and lower with his as he thrusts in and out. He keeps toying with my clit, needing me to find my release. His hold on my neck tightens, as if he means to choke me. I remember vague bits and pieces about feeling this before, but every time I think about it, all I can come up with is his face. His smell. His voice. His touch.

Phoenix.

It’s working.

He increases the pressure he puts on my throat, causing me to gasp for air as my oxygen level goes down. I don’t fight him, and I don’t want to … because, deep down, I know this is going to help me.

He leans in, and his words are like honey to a sugar-addicted soul. “I love you.”

He repeats it over and over again until my fingers are numb, my head feels light, and my body hinges on the edge of euphoria.

“Come, Princess. Do it for me. Let it all out,” he whispers.

My body comes at his command. Just like that. As if his voice has control over my body like a slave listening to its master.

Maybe I am a slave to his wicked version of love.

I don’t care anymore. Right now, everything I need is right on top of me, taking my breath away, both figuratively and literally.

My muscles continue to contract around his hard-on, causing him to pulsate inside me. And then he explodes, gushing into me with full force, groaning out loud. For a while, he keeps going, still holding me down.

When the ordeal ends, the pressure disappears off my head, and he releases my throat. My lungs expand to take in a huge breath as he slowly drifts off my body, dropping to the side. But he doesn’t stop there.

He immediately pulls me close to him and wraps his arms around me.

“Tell me you don’t remember,” he murmurs into my ear. “Tell me I’m the only one.”

“You. It’s always you. All I remember.”

“Please tell me that he’s no longer in your head. Tell me it’s me,” he pleads. I’ve never heard him beg before, but if this is what it sounds like, it feels like it makes my heart beat out of my chest.

“It is you,” I whisper. I turn around to face him and place my hand on his cheek. He’s gazing down at the sheets, unable to look me in the eyes. “Look at me, Phoenix.”

It takes him a while to face me. “I did it for you.”

“I know,” I say, crawling closer to him.

“I don’t want you to think of him. Ever again.” He grinds his teeth, still out of breath from what he just did. “I don’t give a damn if that means that you’ll hate me for the rest of your life. As long as I’m the only one on your damn mind, I am fucking okay with that, all right?”

“Shh …” I say, so tired I could fall asleep right here in his arms. “It’s okay.”

“I’m a bad liar, but you know that already. So I’m just going to tell you straight up. I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, and it’s tearing me apart. I want to hate you, Princess, I really do. But you’re making it impossible, okay?”

I blink away the tears. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“We’re sick,” he says, shaking his head.

“Sick motherfuckers,” I say, and he laughs a little.

He grabs my hand and pulls it up to his lips, gently placing a kiss on top. “I miss what we had.”

“So do I, Miles. So do I.”

“Don’t call me that,” he says. “I hate that fucking name. It’s not who I am.”

“It is who you are to me. You’ll always be Miles. My Miles.”

He smiles and caresses my cheek and then leans in to press a kiss on my lips. The kiss is painful and soothing at the same time because I do care about him … and after everything we’ve been through, I still want him. But it’s bad and all kinds of fucked up. We’re fucked up.

But I want him. I want him so damn much. I want him more than a heroin addict wants her next fix. His dark, indecent love … I’m addicted to it.

“Fuck it. I don’t give a damn anymore,” he whispers against my lips. “If you hate me, so be it. I did what I had to do to get him off your mind. I am the only thing you should be thinking about. Period.”

“I know,” I say, rubbing my face against his chest. His smell is so familiar, it reminds me of what we used to be like, and it soothes me. He soothes me. Everything he does, it’s always been because of me. Even when he said he hated me and wanted to hurt me, it was only because I betrayed him and made him feel powerless. But he never stopped loving me.

There is always a fine line between love and hatred. The more we love a person, the more we can hate them when they do us wrong.

I’ve done Phoenix so wrong that I don’t deserve him.

And yet, he’s here, comforting me in my own bed as we try to make amends with each other.

It’s only fair if I do my part, too.

So I turn to him and make him look at me, so he’ll know I mean it. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing that. What you just did.”

“I did something unspeakable,” he says.

“But you did it for me. To take the bad memories away.” I press a kiss on his lips, firmly setting my love for him in his heart. And as I take a short breath between our kisses, I repeat, “Thank you.”


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