Page 112 of Like A Moth To A Flame

With every chance I got, I searched around me, looking into every corner and every dark shadow.

He was here. I knew he was here.

He was watching me, but where?

“You’re so beautiful,” Stephen breathed into my ear, and I shuddered at the sound. It felt wrong. I hated it. “Let me take you home.”

Amelia’s words from earlier echoed in my mind, and I nodded before I even had a chance to think.

“Alright,” I said finally.

Stephen led me out of the crowded dance floor, away from the pulsating, neon-lit world. The air felt thick with secrets and anticipation.

Stephen’s grip tightened around me as I followed him out of the bar and into the chilly night air. The shadows seemed to grow darker and more foreboding, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

He led me towards a deep red pickup, its polished chrome gleaming beneath the glow of overhead streetlights. It was so tall he had to help me up, his hand slipping dangerously close to my ass, and he helped boost me inside.

I let out a hesitant sigh and allowed him to close the door behind me. As I buckled my seatbelt, my thoughts raced. Was this really happening? Was I in danger, or was I just being paranoid? He cranked up the old truck, and we were off into the night.

The landscape transformed from low, black buildings and miles of sprawling blacktop into rolling hills and sparse farmland. The occasional farmhouse illuminated in the distance and cornfields stretched as far as the eye could see.

As we drove, Stephen periodically glanced over at me, his deep brown eyes burning into my soul. I tried to hide my unease, but the gnawing feeling in my gut grew stronger by the minute.

When we hit Lake Street, I opened my mouth to speak up, but he whipped the wheel to the right, and we took off in the opposite direction.

“W-wait,” I whispered, my voice low and mousey. “My house was… back there.”

An overwhelming sense of danger settled into the pit of my stomach. This was a bad, bad mistake. I shouldn’t have done this.

As we drove off into the night, I could feel the city fading behind us, and the empty darkness ahead of us. Stephen drove with analmost predatory calm, and I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. I was hyper-aware of every sound, every noise, every shadow that flickered past outside the truck window.

This was wrong.

This was bad. So bad.

My stalker had never made me feel like this. This was a whole new kind of fear.

I glanced out the window, watching the darkness stretch before us, thick and impenetrable. It felt like we were driving further and further away from everything, deeper into the unknown.

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. It was a struggle, but I had to stay calm and keep a grip on my fear.

Stephen didn’t answer at first, just kept driving. He seemed to be in his own world, the corners of his mouth turned up in a half-smile as if he found my fear amusing.

Gently, he eased the truck to the side of the road and reached down, flipping off the engine, his arm draped casually across the open window as he looked over at me, his brown eyes somehow darker than they had ever been.

Almost black.

I glanced around, my eyes widening as they took in the desolate landscape. We were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cornfields and darkness. I should’ve known that this was a mistake.

He’s going to hurt me, a voice in my brain whispered.Get out. Now. Start running.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, my heart pounding like a wild beast in my chest. I felt trapped, cornered, vulnerable. I couldn’t move, even as my brain screamed at me to run.

He leaned towards me, one hand falling across my thigh and the other coming around to grasp the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. His fingers dug painfully into the scruff of my neck, and I could smell alcohol and tobacco on his breath as his lips crashed into mine.

“Wait!” I gasped, fighting to pull away from him. “Don’t! Stop it!”

His grip tightened around me and he pulled me in closer, our bodies pressed together in the dark. I could feel the heat of his breath on my face, and the smell of his cologne and the acrid hint of his anger filled my nostrils.

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