Текст книги "Stalker "
Автор книги: Clarissa Wild
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
CHAPTER 30
PHOENIX
The sharp pain stabbing me in the back makes me fall over, my muscles failing on me. I turn around to witness Arthur, the man I thought would’ve bled out by now, standing in the doorway with a gun aimed right at my face.
“Phoenix!” Vanessa cries, turning me over as I cough up blood.
Goddammit, I think he shot me in the lungs.
“Aww, is your boyfriend hurt?” Arthur muses.
“Arthur?” Vanessa looks up at him. “You’re alive.”
“Of course, I’m alive. How else would I be standing here?” He laughs mockingly. “You, on the other hand, shouldn’t be.”
“How are you still alive?” I say with a croaky voice.
“How? Well, after your failed attempt to kill me, I managed to get to a hospital. Had to drag myself all the way to the gate on the other side of the property just to get out. Damn, that wasn’t pretty,” he muses, frowning.
“Gate?” I murmur.
“Oh, you didn’t know there was another entry? Tsk. You should’ve done more research,” Arthur muses. “How else did you think I came in here?”
“But the doors … all locked,” I mutter.
“No, you forgot about the one in the basement, hidden behind all the boxes.”
“Fuck …” I mutter, the pain making adrenaline rush through my body.
“You didn’t think I’d survive, did you? Should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” Arthur jests. “Now I’m alive and well. Got the doctors at the hospital to thank for that. Of course, I couldn’t explain to the cops how I was shot, seeing as I was the one who hired you to kill her. All the traces would lead back to me. Couldn’t have that, nope. But I’m back now, and I’m ready to kill you both,” he says.
“Why did you shoot him?” Vanessa yells, grabbing me and pulling me closer. “He has nothing to do with your anger against me!”
“Because he was in the goddamn way,” Arthur says. “Plus, I’m a little mad here, if you can’t tell.” He looks at me now. “I fucking hired you to kill her, and what do you do?”
She frowns. “So, it’s true.”
“Yes, honey, it’s true,” Arthur says, swaying his gun like it’s some kind of toy. “I wanted you dead.”
“Why?” she says, tears staining her eyes. “What did I ever do to you?”
He smiles. “You think you don’t deserve it? After everything you did to my family?” He steps closer, still keeping his gun pointed at us, ready to fire. “You took my mother from me. My brother. And now my chance to get my family’s fortune.”
“What? That’s what you were after?”
He shakes his head, laughing. “Oh, Vanessa. You didn’t really think I loved you, did you? I was only with you so I could gain access to the money you stole when you married my brother.”
“It wasn’t your money to begin with,” she hisses.
“My brother always got what he wanted,” he growls. “He never earned it. He didn’t even deserve it.”
“Oh, and you do? By planning to have me killed?”
“I worked hard; I took over his business, the business my father should have left me, instead of that half-wit brother of mine.”
She makes a face. “You’re a two-faced liar.”
He cocks his head. “So are you, honey, but nobody complains about that.”
“I do,” I cough, and I immediately cringe from the pain.
“What are you doing here?” Vanessa asks. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t. You just couldn’t drop dead, could you? No matter how hard I tried to push you away so you’d go kill yourself, you just wouldn’t, and then I had to resort to hiring someone to do the job and even they can’t do it. So now I’m here to finish the job.”
He raises his gun. “No, stop!” I yell. “Don’t fucking kill her.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a pathetic hitman, you know that? Falling for the victim? Really?”
“I’m not the victim, you are,” Vanessa yells, and she reaches for her gun lying on the floor.
He fires a shot at the ground, making her jolt up and squeal. Her fingers almost were blown off.
“Uh-uh, Vanessa. That’s not how this is going to work. Kick it over here,” he says. “Give it to me.”
The sirens outside are booming, and the slot is being fiddled with. I’m guessing the cops are trying to break in to see what’s going on after her desperate call. It’ll only take a few minutes for them to come bursting into the hallway with their rifles and arrest us.
But we won’t make it out alive before that time. Not as long as Arthur is here.
Whatever happens, I will not let her die.
There’s only one thing left to do.
Vanessa and I exchange glances, and it’s all we need to determine what to do. We’re going to die anyway, better go out with a bang.
I reach into my pocket when his eyes are focused on Vanessa, and I take out a small pocket knife. As I attempt to throw it at his leg, he notices me, and points his gun at me.
“Fuck no,” he growls.
And then he shoots as I throw.
“No!” Vanessa’s scream goes through marrow and bone. It’s so full of sorrow, that I know for sure she really loved me, even in the end.
The shot hits me in the chest, but Arthur sinks to his knees.
Vanessa focuses her attention on me. “Don’t die, don’t die!”
“I won’t,” I lie. “Do it now,” I say, gurgling up blood. “Save yourself.”
Vanessa immediately reaches for the gun and picks it up while he’s trying to scramble up.
“I’m not fucking going down like this,” Arthur growls. “Not by your hand.”
“Say hi to your brother in hell!” she screams.
Shots are fired, but I only catch half of the ruckus.
The bangs are loud, but the pain in my chest and back are overtaking my body. Blurring my vision, the sirens cloud my hearing.
All I see is Arthur sinking to his knees. His body flops to the floor like a bag of sand.
And then Vanessa slowly drops to her knees beside me.
First, she sighs.
And then her head slams to the ground.
Blood pools underneath her.
I turn around and try to reach for her. She feels so far away, and yet so close I can almost touch her. Her sparkling eyes look at mine as our heads turn toward each other, our faces and clothes covered in blood. My body is leaking blood like a faucet, but all I can think of his her beautiful face and her wretched soul. All mine. I won’t share her. Not even her death.
“I love you,” I whisper, but I don’t think she can hear me.
She mouths back the same words.
Her fingertips reach out toward me, and for a second they graze mine, setting a fire in my heart that can never be extinguished.
No matter if we die, our spark will always live on and on.
EPILOGUE
VANESSA
“She looks so peaceful,” my mother says. “Almost as if she’s happy.”
“I know. Despite what she’s been through, she’s still as tough as ever,” my father says.
“God, I’m so glad the police came quickly. My poor baby.” My mother sniffs.
“She needs her rest now, though.”
My mother caresses my cheek. “Sleep tight, honey.”
“You’ll need your rest for the coming days,” my father muses.
“The family is coming to see you when you’re all better,” my mother adds.
“Let’s just leave her to herself, shall we?” my father says. “Nothing we can do that the doctors can’t.”
“Right,” my mother says as they shuffle away. “She’ll be safe here.”
“Let’s get a cup of coffee and get back home.” They shuffle out of the room.
The moment the door closes, one of my eyes snaps open and I check my environment to make sure no one’s there before I sit up in the hospital bed. I pull all the electrodes from my body and slide out of bed. I check the door to see if someone’s coming, before reaching under my bed and pulling out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I tear off my gown and pull on the clothes that I stole from the nurse when she thought I was asleep. Then I silently make my way out of the room.
Every time someone enters or exits a door, I hide in a corner or hallway crevice until they’re gone, and then I make a run for it. I pass the room Paige is lying in, and for a second our eyes connect. Shit, I don’t want her to see me, let alone talk to me. Our interests no longer align because she was kept in my closet for days, so I keep running ahead. Once I get to the visitor’s section, I quickly spin on my ankles when I spot my parents sitting in a corner drinking some coffee. Instead, I open a safe-exit door and run down the stairs, all the way to the parking lot.
The car is already parked right in front of the road exit.
Just seeing the Jeep makes my heart beat faster.
Freedom.
I smile, knowing that the plan has succeeded.
My parents are oblivious. They think I’m still sick, tired, weak, and that’s exactly what I want them to think. They won’t find out that I’ve left until it’s too late, and they’ll never know where I’ve gone. I won’t ever tell them, either.
I walk toward the Jeep with pride and wanderlust coursing through my veins. I can already picture the trips I’m going to take, and the experiences I’ll have traveling the world. Everywhere a new name—incognito, just like in the movies.
My real life has become an acting job, and I refuse to look back. It’s way too sunny up ahead.
I feel like dancing, but instead, I run toward the Jeep as the door opens from the inside.
His lopsided smile, his chiseled, scruffy face, his tousled black hair and piercings make my heart flutter. And at the sound of his voice, I might have died and gone to heaven.
“Let’s go, Princess.”
“Phoenix, you came,” I say.
“Of course, I did.” He winks. “You didn’t think I’d leave you to rot in that hospital, did you? Besides, your parents would probably kill you if they found out what we’re doing.”
“I’d kill them first if they tried anything,” I say, hopping into the car.
“You sure you don’t want to go and kill them now?” he asks.
I actually have to think about that for a second. “Nah.”
I laugh and so does he, and I buckle up and close the door. In the rearview mirror, I see my own neck again, which has been a long time. The moment I touch it I feel so naked, damn … I never thought I’d miss something like that.
The hospital staff took it off when I was still in bed, but I have no clue how they did it.
“Look what souvenir I found in the trash,” Phoenix says.
I turn my head and a smile appears on my face the moment I see the collar. “I can’t believe you found it.”
“Well, it’s mine, and I’m not letting them throw it away,” he says, holding it up above my neck as we both look in the rearview mirror. “You know, I still think it looks good on you. What do you think?”
I blush. “I liked it more because it meant I was yours.”
He grins when he looks my way. “What do you say we get a new one then? Just for the fun of it?”
“What? You mean as a collar? For me?”
“Yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “Once my pet, always my pet. And I don’t just say that because I’m a kinky bastard. I just like it when you’re mine.”
I bite my lip. “Ah … hmmm … Maybe.” I’m seriously a bad liar now because I can’t seem to hide my enthusiasm, nor can he hide his. It’s written all over his face.
He presses a kiss to my cheek. “I know you love it when I say you’re mine.”
His comment makes me grin like a twelve-year-old. God, I feel young again when I’m around him.
“So, where’d you get this car?” I ask.
“Stole it.”
The way he says it, without any remorse whatsoever, makes me smile. He just doesn’t give a damn, and neither do I.
I’m already glad we both made a full recovery, and not just one of us. I don’t know how he succeeded in escaping the hospital before me, considering there were heavy guards on duty near his door, but I don’t think I want to know either.
“You didn’t kill them, did you?” I ask.
He turns his head toward me. “Who?”
“Anyone. I don’t care.”
He smirks. “Would you really mind?”
“Well, if they’re innocent.”
He shakes his head, laughing. “Do you really want me to say it?”
“Yes,” I say, putting on some shades I find on the dashboard.
“Fine, no innocents were killed in the grand escape of Phoenix Sullivan. Happy?”
My smile turns into a grin as he turns on the rumbling engine. “Couldn’t be happier.”
“Although, I can’t promise you that I didn’t knock them out to free myself.”
“Phoenix!” I gasp.
“What?” He shrugs. “You know me. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy.” He leans closer as he drives toward the hospital exit. “And you wouldn’t want it any other way.”
I smash my lips together to hide my upcoming smile, but I can’t because he’s too damn up in my face. “Fine, you’re right. I like it when you’re bad.”
“We’re one bad couple,” he muses, grinning. “But we’re so good when we’re bad together.”
“Can I stay bad forever?” I say, licking my lips.
He leans in while driving up the ramp. “I’d say the world hasn’t seen our worst yet. Let’s go cause some trouble.”
And then he presses a kiss to my lips, one that burns what’s left of the goodness of my heart, making me embrace my blackened soul. This is who we are; two people who destroyed each other and picked up the pieces by hand. He’s all mine, and I’m completely his. Our wretched love unites us, brings us closer together, and there’s nothing in the world that could make me feel the same way that Phoenix does.
For his love, I could die.
For my love, he would kill.
We’re bad, in the worst kind of way, but sometimes you need a little bad in your life … So bad, you realize life isn’t worth living without someone to be evil with.
###
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***
Have you read KILLER, the prequel to STALKER?
Click here to read it now!
***
COMING SOON
Twenty-One (21)
21 years
On her 21st birthday she’s taken. Collected by a rich family as an unpaid debt. Her body sold. Her mind his.
21 weeks
For 21 weeks she carried a burden no girl should ever have to carry. Now she loses her freedom to a man born to destroy her.
21 days
His name: Angel DeLuca. His mission: to break her in 21 days before she sees through his lies. But she won’t give up without a fight.
21 minutes
It takes only 21 minutes for their lives to be forever entwined.
21 seconds
21 seconds to spill. Time is running out.
Secrets ruin them … but not all truths are worth the price.
This is a STANDALONE Dark Romance novel. WARNING: contains explicit situations, dubious consent, graphic violence, drug abuse, and other disturbing content.
Click here for Twenty-One (21)
***
EXCERPT OF MR. X
“Punishment is justice for the unjust.” – Saint Augustine
Prologue
Thursday, August 15 th , 2013. 10:30 p.m.
Life is not continuous. Every path we take ends it or prolongs it. Millions upon millions of paths lie in front of us and we choose only one. Each step we take means cutting off a possible path. One by one they all disappear. The choice can’t be changed. Accepting the consequences is a must, but impossible for most, including me.
Life is a string of events, each leading to another. One man. One choice. One deadly weapon. It all adds up to this one moment. The gun this man is pointing at my head. The gun that could end my life in a flash.
This man wants to kill me, and I don’t know why.
In order to survive I must pass this test. I have to find out what story hides behind his scar. I believe it’s my only way out. My life could end any second, but I won’t allow it. I’ll fight until the very end. Whichever path I choose, I will survive.
***
Tuesday, August 13 th , 2013. 2:00 a.m.
He was innocent. Or so he said.
The scratch marks on his face tell a completely different story. Not only is he a scumbag, he’s a lying scumbag too. Luckily, I know just the thing to do with liars.
Twirling the knife in my hand, I step forward. Sweat drops trickle down his face, making his hair stick to his forehead. He whimpers against the soaked cloth in his mouth, choking on his words. My eye slowly takes him in from top to bottom as I twist the sharp point of the knife softly against my finger, creating a bead of blood. His Adam’s apple moves up and down in his throat as he visibly strains his muscles at the sight of my toy.
Yes, toy.
I have many, not all of them equally painful, but some more fun than others. Especially the screwdriver; it’s one of my favorites.
But alas, this is a rush job and this Swiss knife is the only thing I have on me.
My victim takes in a deep breath as my eye zooms in on his, the fear settling in his eyes. It’s breathtaking. I love that look in their eyes, those begging lips, those sweaty palms, the twitching and jerking muscles as they try to free themselves. It excites me to see them powerless, to know that I can do anything I desire. To know they can see it coming, all the things I will do to them.
The horror that fills their veins as they realize their death will not be quick but painfully agonizing.
A smirk forms on my face as my eye narrows and I savor the moment. Each step I take makes him squirm more, but he and I both know he’s not going anywhere. The knot I tied is impervious. Blood stains the fibers of the rope as he twists in his seat, trying to escape his looming fate. It makes me laugh.
Innocent. Right. There’s no such thing as innocence. Not in this world.
I lower the knife and draw a line from his hand up his arm. He moans into the cloth, shaking his head, uttering words again.
“Now, you know I won’t take it any easier on you if you keep twisting like that,” I say.
Putting pressure on the knife, I slide it up his shoulder, drawing blood. He screeches, shaking profusely as I create a few nice lines across his shoulder. Each stroke a little deeper, until his flesh rips and blood pours out. His screams become louder and louder, which only makes me want to continue. I love hearing the sound. Love the squeals of agony as I cut them open.
“Fwop! Fwop! Pwease!” I hear him beg through the cloth.
“You know I can’t do that,” I mutter.
“I will pway the debt! I swear!”
Pay? He wants to pay?
I raise an eyebrow and lean over him to look him in the eye. “Pay? You think this is about money?”
“I’ll give you anywing!”
I laugh. “So you really don’t know what this is about? And here I was thinking you were lying.”
“Pwease, tell me, I can fix it.”
“Nope. Too late for that.” I draw another line from his shoulder down to the other hand and smile when I see the stain in his pants. Poor man; pissed his pants. Can’t blame him. Actually, I can. It’s dripping down the chair and it’s soiling my favorite kill spot.
“Sad. Really sad, you know?” I say. “You pissed yourself.”
He whimpers again.
Frowning, I flip the knife around and wipe it on his trousers. “Oh, what am I going to do with you?”
“Let me go, pwease, I swear, I won’t tell.”
“Hmm … you seem to be under the impression this is about something that can be solved.” I lean forward and grab his arm right where the wound is. He jerks in the chair from the pain. “Sadly for you, that’s not the case.” I squint. “It’s so unfortunate you can’t remember, because that forces me to tell you. See, I don’t like it when my victims don’t know what they did before I cut their faces. They need to know what they did wrong so they see it coming. There needs to be some kind of morality, you know? Some kind of retribution.”
I smirk, and then press my finger into his wound, muddling his flesh.
He squeals and bites his tongue, blood seeping from his mouth.
“Now listen, you fucked-up piece of shit, do you remember that night a few months ago when you went to a children’s playground? Remember that little girl with the blue dress? Remember that chloroform in your pocket?”
His eyes widen. Fuck. It’s so fucking awesome when they realize why they’re here. It’s like a little slice of God falling into my hands. It riles me up, gets me started, feeds my soul.
If I had one.
I laugh, shaking my head as I look down at his crotch. Drips draw my attention. This fucktard pissed himself again.
So I decide to kick him in the balls.
He makes an oompf sound and turns completely red as he gags on the cloth.
He deserves it. If only for making a mess of my property.
No, screw that, for putting his hands on that little girl. Assholes like him don’t deserve to exist.
“Yeah, I know all about what you did, which is unfortunate for you. I know everything. That’s my job. It’s too bad for you her family was rich. Lucky for me I get paid well.”
I raise the knife again, right in front of his face, showing him what’s in store. He shakes in place, his eyes filling with tears. “Aww … you’re gonna cry now? And what about that poor girl? Did you hear her cries too as you sodomized her?” Even though I didn’t know her, just the thought of anyone doing that shit to a little girl angers me. I might be a bastard, but I’m not that much of a bastard. Nobody gets to use kids. I know firsthand what it can do to them.
Fury besieges me, and I let it. With fiery passion I raise the knife and jam it right into his other hand.
He screams so loud my ears pop. The noise echoes in this huge hall, but nobody will hear him here except me.
His fingers spasm, but I give him no time to rest. Pulling it right out of him, it takes me two slashes to create my signature mark on his eye.
Scarred for life.
Not that it’ll last long.
As my victim screeches and jerks in his chair, desperate to get loose, I step away and admire my artwork before I grab the jerry can and drench him in petrol. I throw the can away and grab a cigarette. Nothing like a cigarette after a good mutilation.
I watch him writhe as I fish the lighter from my pocket and light the cigarette. Not one second after my first drag do I throw the lighter and set him ablaze.
The x that marks his face burns brighter than any of the previous ones I’ve done.
Such a nice piece of work.
Click here to read on
***
