Page 10 of The Stalker
Her quick, panicked breaths carry on the wind.The slap of her feet against pavement.The frantic squeak of a doorknob when she tries a house that won’t let her in.
I close my eyes, smiling, just listening.
“She’s beautiful when she’s afraid,”the voice murmurs inside me.Deep, dark, and familiar now.“Don’t you feel it?The way her fear sharpens her taste, makes her softer, makes her ready for you?”
“Yes,” I whisper into the night.“I feel it.”
“Then take her.Don’t waste another second.She’s wanted this since you were teenagers.You were too weak to see it.I won’t let you waste her again.”
The pressure inside me tightens.My muscles twitch, and my fingers curl like claws.For a second, it’s not my breath fogging the air but his, this Thomas, this ghost who’s latched onto me like a parasite.
Except he doesn’t feel like a parasite.He feels like an extension of me.The part I’ve always buried.He feels like freedom.
I follow her.Not rushing, not sloppy.Silent, with deliberate steps through the darkness.Every shadow bends toward me, cloaking me, hiding me from her desperate eyes like they want me to catch her.She won’t see me until I want her to.
I follow the trail she leaves behind.A knocked-over trash can.A candy bucket abandoned on the sidewalk.A smear of blood where her ankle must’ve twisted.The sight of it makes me groan, my cock straining against my jeans.I want to lick it, taste her pain on my tongue.
“Soon,” I mutter.“Soon, baby.”
I find her by the old, abandoned church.She’s hunched against the stone wall, chest heaving, her hand pressed over her scar like it’s burning her alive.Her eyes dart toward the darkness, wide and wet, searching the shadows for any sign of me.
I stay just out of sight, watching.God, she’s a vision.Terrified, trembling, and convinced she’s alone.
“Show her she isn’t.”The voice whispers the dark taunt in the recesses of my mind.
My lips curl into a twisted smile.“Bianka,” I whisper, letting the night carry my voice.
Her head snaps up and she stumbles to her feet, spinning in circles, searching.
“Please,” she cries into the dark.“Please, Griffin, stop!”
Stop?As if I could.As if I’d ever want to.I step closer, close enough that the gravel crunches under my boot.Her eyes lock on the sound, her lips parting with a sharp inhale.
I let her see me then.Just enough.The edge of my face, the glint of my eyes burning hotter than they should and she freezes.Her body knows before her mind admits it.She knows she’s caught.
And me?I’ve never felt more alive.
“Take her now,”Thomas snarls inside me, his voice like fire in my veins.“Push her down.Mark her.She’s waited long enough.”
My hands shake with the need thrumming through my veins.The ghost is right.She’s here.She’s trembling.She’s mine.All I need to do is take her.
But another part of me, the weak, human part, whispers that I should be careful.That if I go too far, too fast, I’ll break her, push her away, and lose her before I ever have a chance to call her mine.
“So break her,”Thomas growls.“That’s what makes them stay.”
I clench my fists, torn between the two voices inside me.Mine and his.But maybe they’re not so different anymore.Maybe we both want the same thing.Her.Always her.
I take a step into the light and her gasp slices through the air.
“Griffin...”Her voice cracks, and it’s not just fear this time.There’s something else laced in it.Something that sounds a lot like need.
I feel Thomas grin through me.“There it is.She wants you.She always has.”
“Yes,” I murmur, my voice rough with possession.“You can’t run from me, Bianka.Not tonight.Not ever again.”
She shakes her head, tears spilling.“You’re not...”She falters, swallowing hard.“You’re not the same.”
“No,” I agree, my eyes locking on hers.“I’m not.I’m better.”
