Tyrant Stalker: A Dark Forbidden Romance (Tyrant Dynasty Book 2)

by Isabella Starling

  But there's a weird, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I keep walking, turning the corner near the alleyway leading to Sam's spot. Like I'm about to walk into something terrible. And my heart sinks the moment I round the corner and see him.

  Sam's leaning against the brick wall behind him like always. He's covered up with my old blanket, and still has the paper bag I last gave him next to him. But his eyes are open. Open in a way they shouldn't be, staring ahead blankly, unseeing.

  "S-Sam?" My voice is already breaking, as if my body instinctively knows what's happened before my mind accepts it. My paper bag falls to the ground. I run toward him, stepping on a juice box as I do. The cold juice soaks my shoes, but I don't notice it. I don't notice anything.

  I'm kneeling before him. His eyes, his kind, wise eyes, stare into mine, but he can't see anymore. I want to fucking scream, but when I open my mouth, no sound comes out. I know I'm breaking. My mind is in pieces, my heart in tatters at my feet. With shaky hands, I reach for my phone. I call 911 and rattle off my address, but when the operator asks me what's wrong, I can't bring myself to say it. Can't reduce my friend Sam to what he is now – just a body.

  "Just c-come," I manage, and the phone drops from my hand as the full weight of what's just happened dawns on me. I can't move. I'm frozen to the fucking spot, eyes glued to Sam's unmoving gaze. Slowly, I lower my gaze to his arm. There's a needle sticking out of it. I swallow the scream fighting its way from inside me.

  "You promised," I whisper. "You promised you wouldn't do that anymore. You promised, Sam. You promised!"

  I start hammering my fists against his chest as the tears finally fall. In two months, I've lost the only two people who've ever mattered to me, and I don't know if I can live without them. I don't even know if I want to try.

  "Don't leave me, you can't leave me, you can't do this to me. I'm not ready, Sam. I'm not ready!"

  "Dove, Dove, Dove." The voice is calming and kind, but I know its owner is anything but. Gently, he pries away my hands from Sam's body. He holds me tight on the ground, sitting behind me and embracing me, rocking me back and forth as I scream my frustration at the world. I am breaking, but the sicko who ruined my life is here to hold the pieces together for a while longer.

  He must've followed me after I left the house, which should only make me angrier, but for some fucked up reason, I'm grateful Nox is here.

  Nox, a hero in the night. What the hell is his game?

  By the time the ambulance pulls up with its sirens blaring, I feel numb. There's so much pain I don't feel anything anymore. My mind has retreated to a place where nothing can hurt it. Not even the man gently whispering in my ear, telling me everything's going to be okay.

  The paramedics rush out, but the moment they see Sam, they stop in their tracks. We all know it's over. There's nothing they can do to help him.

  The truth of what's just happened is too heavy, and a sob rips from my lips as I watch them load up Sam's body onto a stretcher. A blonde woman gently closes his eyelids, which makes me irrationally angry. I want to scream at her, fucking attack her. I want to tell her he doesn't trust cars, they'll have to figure out a different way to get him to the hospital. But it doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Sam.... Sam's gone now. Forever.

  One of the paramedics starts asking me questions but I don't even hear them. I hear Nox though, arguing with the guy and telling him to fuck off and leave me alone. The guy leaves with his hands raised in defeat. Nox insists we're going to the hospital with them.

  I don't even remember the ride there. He takes me there on his bike and tells me to hold on tight, so I do, even though I just want to slip off the fucking bike and to my certain death on the road.

  We wait in the hospital for what feels like hours. Nox offers me sandwiches, drinks, but I can't even reply. I just stare blankly ahead, just like Sam did when I found him.

  Finally, Nox sits next to me. His reassuring palm comes to rest on my knee, but I don't feel its warmth. I don't know if I'll ever feel warm again.

  Nox buries his face in his hands then. I mourn the loss of his palm on my knee, but I don't mention it. But when he stands up and screams, punching the wall, even I'm surprised.

  He sits down next to me with his knuckles bleeding while two security guards rush toward us.

  "Sir, you can't do that in here," one of them tells Nox, already reaching for his taser. "We're going to have to ask you to leave."

  "I can't leave," Nox hisses. "I need to help my... my Dove."

  "You just punched a wall," the other man says. "You're scaring people. You need to get out of here, now."

  Nox nurses his twisted, bloodied fingers in his hand, standing up and getting up close to the guard. "I said I'm not fucking leaving."

  The guy backs off. Nox's intimidating presence scares anyone who comes near us, and the guards reluctantly leave me alone with him.

  "Why are you so angry?" I ask softly as he sits back down next to me.

  "I..." He shakes his head. "I don't like seeing you upset."

  There's more to it than that, and we both know it. But I'm tired. Bone tired. Too exhausted to demand more details. We sit there together, and I lean my head against his shoulder because I need some kind of comfort.

  The doctor appears what feels like hours later. He's apologetic, kind, but his tone does nothing to help with the message he's come to deliver.

  "There was nothing we could do," he says gently. "It must've happened right after he took that lethal dose of heroin. I'm sorry. Are you his next of kin? There's the matter of the bills..."

  "I'll cover it," Nox cuts in, signing his name on a stack of papers the doctor hands him. "We'll call you with further arrangements for the..." He swallows thickly. "Funeral."

  That word makes me feel sick. I curl up into a ball on one of the shitty plastic chairs. The doc prattles on about helplines and support they offer grieving family members. I just want him to shut up so I can close my eyes and sleep forever and a day.

  "Come on, Dove. Please, come with me." I'm vaguely aware of Nox helping me stand up, but my legs won't hold me. I can't be here anymore. This can't be real. I didn't just lose him, the last bright light in my life. Sam isn't gone. He can't be. Without him, without Robin... what do I have left?

  When he realizes I can't stand up, Nox simply raises me into his arms. I don't fight it. I just wrap my arms around his neck and allow him to carry me out of there. The cold, fresh air outside hits me hard, and I gasp for breaths that aren't coming, just like they'll never come again for Sam.

  Nox sets me down on the seat of his bike, carefully putting the helmet on me.

  He buckles the strap under my chin while my eyes stare emptily ahead. Nox doesn't speak, and I'm grateful he doesn't interrupt my mind that's already going a mile a minute. He simply tells me to hold on tight and drives me back home without saying another word.

  He walks me up to the house, lingering on the welcome mat as I unlock the door and let myself in. I stand there with my hand on the doorknob, wondering what the fuck I'm supposed to do next.

  I know I shouldn't invite Nox in, but I don't want to be alone tonight. In fact, I don't want to be with anyone but him. So, I cock my head to the side, managing a weak, trembling smile, as I say, "Aren't you going to come in?"

  He nods, accepting my invitation and walking into the room. He shuts the front door behind him.

  "I'm going to take a shower," I mutter. "I'll see you later."

  I almost wish he'd argue, but he doesn't. I walk to the bathroom feeling like a shell of myself. There's nothing left of Dove Canterbury but this shell I'm forced to live in. And yet it's more than Sam has right now.

  Swallowing back a sob, I strip my clothes off in the bathroom. I set the temperature to scalding hot in the hope that it will warm my tired, exhausted body. As the hot water beats against my body though, I find no comfort in its warmth. I still feel numb. There's nothing anyone can do to make it better. But I can do something.r />
  My eyes go to the razor in the shower I shave my legs with. It took me years to be able to have it in the open like that, and now I know why. It's dangerous, too easy. I could just take it apart and hurt myself, right here and right now. Nox would be none the wiser. Nobody would have to know.

  With trembling fingers, I pick up the razor and take it apart. I take out the razorblade and leave the plastic. I feel sick as I touch the blade to my skin, not cutting, but just holding it there, reminding myself I'm the one who holds the power. I'm in pain, but that pain can go away, will go away when I cut into my skin and make it bleed. I can make it all go away. What Nox doesn't know won't hurt him.

  I press the edge of the blade into my skin. It parts easily and the blissful pain takes over, so overwhelming I’m able to tune out the pain of losing Sam, of losing Robin. I cut deeper. The razor slides into my skin with such ease it's almost a relief. With a sigh, I watch the bloody drips swirling down the drain.

  "What the fuck are you doing, Dove?"

  I want to look at him, but I can't. I'm too tired. The razorblade slips from my fingers and the water beats down on my new cut, a new scar to remember Sam by. I forgot I'm naked. Nox will see me like this, vulnerable and exposed. None of it matters anymore, because the razor did its job. I don't feel the pain of the loss anymore. I focus on the physical pain, on the broken skin, the bleeding cut. And I tell myself it's all going to be okay, knowing full well I'm lying to myself.

  But what else am I supposed to do?

  Chapter 20

  Nox

  "Stop fidgeting." I grab her hand and inspect it up close. "Christ, Dove. Why did you do this? Where's your first-aid kit?"

  She mumbles something in response as I sit her down on the stool and I realize she's retreated to a part of her that won't be able to give me the answers I need. I rifle through her cabinets until I find the kit. She doesn't even wince as I disinfect the cut. I apply some antiseptic cream and wrap it up, and the whole time, Dove just sits there, her eyes so far away.

  Dove is still naked, but now's not the moment to admire her body. I ask her if she can walk and she doesn't respond. Finally, I gather her in my arms like I did at the hospital. I carry her upstairs and into her bedroom and she doesn't fight me. Putting her in her bed, I cover her with a blanket, unsure of what to do next. There's an armchair in the room where I could sleep, but when I move to walk away, her fingers tangle in my shirt and she pulls me back.

  "Don't go, Nox."

  Simple words, but so powerful. The fact she used my new name is enough to make my dick swell and my balls tighten. Oh how I want to fuck her right now. I climb on the bed next to her, fighting every instinct inside my body that's telling me to just do it. Take advantage, take what's mine, and pay no mind to whether she wants this or not. But I can't bring myself to do it. In Dove's weakest moment, my humanity has reared its ugly head. And I just can't hurt her more than she has already been hurt.

  I lie down, my head on her pillow, and she cuddles me, lying practically on top of me, which is fucking torture for my already hard dick. But the moment I put my head down, the truth of what's happened hits me like a punch in the gut.

  Sam is gone. My only friend in the world is dead. And I didn't even do it. This one wasn't my fault. Was it?

  Maybe I should have told Dove how much he was struggling. Maybe I should have gotten him more help. Maybe, maybe, maybe... I can't change anything now. He's gone. I'm all Dove has left. Just like I fucking wanted.

  I groan, the sound barely audible in the room, and pray Dove won't notice. A part of me wonders whether I'm really at fault for this, because I wanted her to myself. Well, I got my motherfucking wish. But at what cost? Losing the only damn friend I'd ever had.

  I haven't cried in a fucking long time, but tonight I feel like I could. I feel the loss of Sam deep in my soul, where it hurts most. I force myself to push it to the back of my mind, where it can't cut me anymore. I'm not the priority right now. Dove is.

  Soon after, her breaths get deeper and I realize she's asleep. She must be fucking exhausted after the night she's had, but there's no way I can sleep. So I gently extricate myself from her arms, and she fitfully turns to her side. I cover her up with the blanket again, tucking her in. Her expression is troubled, but she's certainly asleep.

  I head down to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. The knock comes just as I down the cool liquid, and I wonder who the fuck it could be as I head for the front door. If that piece of shit photographer has the nerve to show up here tonight, I might up my body count before tomorrow morning.

  My instincts weren't wrong. I open the door to find the prick on Dove's doorstep.

  "Can I help you?" My voice comes out gruff and I do nothing to better the impression. The guy's brows furrow when he sees me standing there, and he glances behind me, searching for her.

  "Where's Dove?"

  "She's asleep." Not that it's any of your goddamn business. "What do you want?"

  "To talk to her."

  I realize then the guy is fucking hammered, smirking to myself. Oh, if only Dove could see him now. That illusion of the perfect billionaire playboy would be shattered in seconds. But I'm not going to wake her up just so she can see what a mess her almost-boyfriend is.

  "She's asleep," I tell him again. "It's the middle of the night. I suggest you get an Uber and go home."

  "I need to tell her something."

  "Now's not the time. She just had some terrible news."

  "About Robin?"

  "No," I grunt. "About a friend of hers, Sam."

  "Who?"

  This piece of shit knows nothing about Dove, and I'll be damned if I let him disturb her.

  "You need to get the fuck home."

  "You don't tell me what to do." He almost lunges at me but loses his balance at the last second. The prick would look a lot fucking scarier if he wasn't standing on wobbling feet, close to passing the fuck out. "Who the fuck are you anyway?"

  "I'm Dove's boyfriend," I lie easily.

  "Bull-fucking-shit," the shit laughs. "She'd tell me if that was the case."

  I shrug with a grin. "Guess you aren't important enough for her to fill you in."

  His eyes flash with anger and for a moment, I'm convinced he really will try to knock me out. But I can take a pussy like him, easy. I hope for his sake he doesn't try, because he'll end up dead if he does.

  "If you aren't letting me in right now, I'm calling the cops."

  I laugh at the idiot. "And tell them what, exactly? That some girl you want to fuck is with someone else now and you're fucking butthurt? Nah, I don't think so, man. She's been through enough today. Go fuck yourself."

  Something takes over him then, and a look of madness flashes across his face. He steps forward, all up in my face. He looks like he's about to throw a punch, but at the last second, he changes his mind. Without saying another word, he turns on his heel and staggers away. With the greatest pleasure, I slam the front door after him.

  "Who was that?"

  I turn around at the sound of Dove's voice. The sight of her makes my mouth water. She has an almost see-through silky wrap around her. And she’s put on fresh black panties.

  "It was your date," I say. "Checking up on you."

  "What'd you tell him?"

  "That you needed space. What are you doing up?"

  "I'm a light sleeper," she mutters. "The talking woke me up."

  "You need to get some rest."

  "Don't tell me what to do." She walks past me into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of ice-cold water. I follow behind, leaning against her and placing my hands on the sink, caging her in front of me.

  "But I like telling you what to do."

  "I don't have the energy for this right now."

  "I told you, you need to rest."

  "How the fuck am I supposed to do that with you in my house?" Her shoulders slump as she breathes a sigh. "I'm scared of you."

  "Why?"

  "
Why?" She turns around and I move in closer, pressing her body against the sink. "Because you're dangerous. Because bad things happen every time you show up in my life. Because I'm fucking afraid of what you’re capable of."

  "I'd never hurt you," I tell her, raising my hand to cup her cheek. But she flinches when I do.

  "You already have. Too many times to count."

  I don't argue with her. Instead, I wrap my fingers in her hair and tug on it. "I want you, Dove."

  "Well, I don't want you."

  "Then tell me to leave," I grunt. "Tell me to pack my shit and go. To never come see you again."

  "I..." She struggles with the words, amusing me. "I n-never w-want to..."

  "Yes?" I taunt her. "You going to finish that sentence?"

  She doesn't. Instead, her eyes lock with mine and she stares me down stubbornly. But she doesn't say another word.

  "When are you going to let me back where I belong?" I ask her next, running a finger down her bony chest, over her perky nipples and down between her legs. "In here... in your mouth... in your tight little ass. When are you going to admit you belong with me?"

  "Never."

  "I'm going to enjoy making you change your mind. You should've turned me in when you had the chance, Dove. Because now I'm never going to stop."

  She pushes her fingers against my chest and I allow her to push me back. I laugh out loud at her, stumbling back as she advances on me. It would be so fucking easy for me to overpower her. To show her who's the real boss around here. But I'm saving it. I can't use my force on her just yet. I want her fucking willing for what's to come next.

  "After tomorrow, I want you gone," she tells me. "I never want to see you again."

  "Sure, liar," I smirk. My expression changes when I look into her eyes, though. She looks like she's in pain. Her eyes betray her. They show just how deeply Sam's death has hurt her. "Do you want to talk about what happened today?"

  "Fuck off!" Her reply leaves no room for arguments.

  "Do you want me to make it better for you?"