Stalker

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Stalker Page 24

by Clarissa Wild


  Including murdering anyone who comes into sight. No questions asked.

  ***

  Present

  Abruptly, I’m pulled in and out of memories of my past, and how I murdered people with my own bare hands. Cutting this man’s fingers off reminds me of what a filthy, cold-hearted bastard I’ve become. I really don’t give a fuck about him; all I can think about is hurting him as much as possible.

  This is what’s become of me. After years of training and fighting, learning only how to kill for a living, I’ve stopped caring about anyone in the world.

  Except her.

  That woman standing in the corner, naked and shivering. Once she was a girl I loved deeply … now all that’s left is hatred.

  And still her voice … it calls to me.

  It soothes me.

  I swear I can hear her whisper my name, begging me to stop.

  Begging me to return to her, exactly the way I was.

  Before our world turned into a living hell.

  ***

  VANESSA

  “Drop it,” the new guy says to Phoenix. “I said drop it! Drop the fucking knife, Phoenix!”

  Phoenix is breathing heavily, his shoulders rising each time he pants like a bear filled with primal rage.

  The knife slowly slips from his blood-soaked hands, until it clatters on the floor, shattering every belief I had about myself. I just witnessed a man torture another … and it was so, so good it gives me the chills.

  “I’m gonna kill him,” Phoenix repeats.

  The guy grabs his shoulder and pulls him back. “Think about her.”

  This seems to shake Phoenix, as he turns his head toward me and really looks at me for the first time since the attack. His eyes turn from murderous frenzy into bitter anguish. It breaks my heart in two.

  “Focus on her,” the guy next to him says.

  Phoenix takes a step toward me, his hands shaking. When he gazes down at them, he frowns, licking his lips, unable to take a step further.

  I can see the scornful look on his face, so full of loathing, but it’s not aimed at me. His hand goes to his own heart and he makes a fist on his chest, almost as if he’s willing to crush his own heart.

  Slowly, I crawl up from the floor and walk toward him while the new guy tends to the one who tried to assault me. I don’t give a damn that he’s here, that I’m naked, and that there’s blood everywhere.

  The only thing I can do right now is wrap my arms around Phoenix and hug him tight.

  For a moment, I just stand there, feeling his warmth envelop me, burying my body in his nook, wishing for this all to disappear. The look on his face scared me, but not like it used to. I used to fear the madness in his eyes. Now I fear the disgust he exudes just by looking at his own hands.

  He can hate me. He can hate the world. But I don’t want him to hate himself.

  “I’ll kill him,” he whispers, his head slowly turning toward the body of the man.

  I look up, grab his chin, and force him to look at me. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m alive.”

  He breathes in and out for a few seconds, staring at me as if he sees a ghost. Looking into his eyes is like seeing the world unravel before you. I see him; for the first time, I really see him for who he truly is. A man—vulnerable, loving, emotional, hurt. I hurt him, and he hurts me.

  I love him, and he loves me.

  And then he wraps his arms around me so tight that I’m squashed by his strong muscles.

  I don’t mind. I actually need this, and in his arms, I feel a sliver of safety filling my heart. Just a little bit, but it’s enough to water my eyes.

  “Dammit,” the guy suddenly says.

  I blink away the tears. We both look at him and the dude lying on the floor, lifeless.

  “Too late,” he says, looking at Phoenix.

  Phoenix’s lip twitches. “Well, that’s just too damn fucking bad.”

  “You killed him, Nix.”

  “He fucking deserved it!” He takes his arms off me and leaves me naked again. I quickly grab the nearest curtain and tear it off, wrapping it around my body, even though it’s not much. Phoenix walks back to the corpse as the other dude gets up to face off with him. “He tried to fuck with her, so he got fucked by me.”

  “You know this won’t end well,” the dude says.

  “Like I give a fuck. I have good grounds. The guy tried to steal something that belonged to me. I had a right to take his life when he tried to pull that shit.”

  The guy frowns. “Look, you don’t understand. He wasn’t just here to camp out with you.”

  Phoenix leans back. “What?” He cocks his head. “Are you saying he was here for a reason? You know something, don’t you?” Phoenix growls.

  The guy holds up his hands. “You know I can’t do anything about the rules, dude. It was just a job.”

  “What?” Phoenix yells. “You’d better fucking tell me the truth now, DeLuca, or I’ll rip your fucking head off, too.”

  “Nix, think about what you’re doing. You know you can’t win from me.”

  Phoenix stands in front of him so close they’re up in each other’s face, shouting. “Watch me.”

  “Fuck you,” DeLuca says. “Look, I’m sorry we got you into this mess.”

  “Damn right, it’s your fault. You brought him here in the first place.”

  “He was supposed to help me with this job.”

  “What job?” Phoenix sneers.

  He glances at me, and suddenly I feel very exposed. “Killing her.”

  An itch goes through my body, circling around until goosebumps cover my skin. The mask that I’ve worn all these years has been shattered as despair slips through my pores, covering my body with dirty sweat.

  I suddenly get the urge to jump into the shower to wash the jitters off.

  “YOU CAME HERE TO KILL HER?” Phoenix’s voice is off the charts loud.

  “Dude, calm down,” DeLuca says.

  “I AM NOT CALMING DOWN!” Phoenix is breathing like a bull again, and I have no clue what to do. Should I go there and try to help? I don’t know the guy, or the other one … but something about the anger in Phoenix’s voice tells me this DeLuca guy actually means something to him. Which says a lot.

  “She’s on your fucking hit list? That’s why you came here?” Phoenix yells.

  “We got the job; I can’t help it. I didn’t know she was the girl from your story until I saw the house, and by then, I knew it was too late. Drago had already gone over the fence. I couldn’t stop him.”

  “And you fucking went along with it without telling me?” Phoenix pushes him until he’s up against the wall.

  “What else was I supposed to do?” DeLuca says. “I had to do it. They wouldn’t accept me back in if I didn’t complete the job.”

  “Who gives a shit about the organization?! She’s mine, and I told you that I was going to do this alone!” Phoenix screams, grabbing his collar and shoving him up the wall.

  “You said you were going to kill her. I thought she was already dead, dude. I didn’t think we even had a chance of success.”

  “So, what, you thought it was okay to let that fucker just roam the house? You knew he was going to search for her. You fucking knew he wanted to kill her, and you let him get away. You fucking let him do your dirty work for you.”

  “It’s not like that. I honestly didn’t think she’d still be alive,” he says, swallowing, holding up his hands. “I mean it. It’s the truth. I know you, Nix. You wouldn’t keep any victim alive. Ever.”

  “Except me,” I mutter.

  Both of them now look at me as if I’m a complete loon. I blush, but not because they stare at me … it’s because he said Phoenix always kills his victims, and yet he didn’t kill me.

  Yet.

  Phoenix immediately returns his attention toward DeLuca. “I trusted you. You’ve got some fucking balls, dude.”

  “I swear to fucking god, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted to confirm her
death with you so we could relay it to the organization and get it over with. I expected the job to be cancelled, so we could get another one.”

  “And yet you forget to bring up that fact the moment you appear at the front doorstep,” Phoenix says. “I fucking trusted you; I took you with me, and this is how you repay me?”

  “I’m sorry, dude. Really, I am. I know I should’ve acted differently, but I didn’t. We all make mistakes. Again, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Damn right, it won’t,” Phoenix growls.

  “Phoenix,” I say, stepping forward.

  He swallows, glancing back at me. I see the regret in his eyes. I know he doesn’t want to kill his friend. After a few seconds, Phoenix lets him go, and he drops to the floor, grasping for his own throat.

  “Get the fuck out,” Phoenix says without looking at him.

  “Nix, please, let’s talk about this. It’s all a misunderstanding.”

  “I don’t fucking want to talk to you.”

  “But—”

  “Get out!” Phoenix screams so loud that it makes DeLuca jolt up, and then run past him.

  We briefly exchange looks before he storms down the stairs and out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  Phoenix is still breathing heavy, like he’s consumed by his own temper.

  “You did the right thing,” I say softly.

  “Don’t,” he says.

  I look at the floor and wrap the curtain tighter around my body, clinging to what little warmth it provides.

  Suddenly, Phoenix turns around, sighing as he comes to me. He picks me up from the floor, making me squeal and drop the curtain that was covering my body, but then I realize he’s carrying me toward my own room. Not the attic. Not the prison-like cage downstairs, but my real bedroom.

  He opens the door and a thick vapor of smoke floating through the room makes me cough. Inside, it’s a mess, with clothes and items lying scattered on the carpet. My make-up stand is thrown upside down, the mirror is shattered, on the windowsill is an ashtray filled with old smokes, and the bed is kept untidy.

  So this is where he’s been sleeping all this time when he left me alone in the cage. In my room. In my bed. On my pillow.

  And as he brings me to my own bed, I can’t help but wonder if it smells like him now.

  He places me down on the mattress and covers me with a blanket, gently patting me down as if he’s trying to soothe me.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says. “Stay here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere right now,” I mutter. “But where are you going?”

  “Getting rid of the body.”

  “Stay with me,” I say, grabbing his arm.

  He stops for a moment. “I have to do this.”

  “Why?”

  “So you don’t have to see it,” he mumbles, looking at the door.

  This makes me blush a little. Is he doing this for me? And even though this is about cleaning up a corpse, somehow I feel flattered.

  “I’ll wait,” I say.

  “Good.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face, and then he turns around and walks away, closing the door behind him. I hear him rummage around on the hallway, some sliding and pushing going on, and I’m guessing it’s because he’s moving the body. He’s probably trying to get rid of it as quickly as possible, although I’m not sure how long it takes to bury a body. He probably won’t do it right away but dragging the body downstairs must be tough already.

  It takes him a few minutes to come back with bloodied hands and messy hair, which he flips to the side. His whole body is covered with sweat, and there are cuts and bruises all over his skin from the guy fighting him off. I look down at my own hands and the bruises all over my body, and they make me want to cry.

  I’m a bumbling mess because of that guy assaulting me, and that never happens to me.

  I shiver and pull the blanket up further.

  Phoenix walks to the bathroom to the left, glancing at me for only a second, but the moment he does, he bites his lip. I can see the concern in his eyes, and it makes me want to pull the blanket up to my face and cover myself up. I don’t want him to see me like this. Weak. Vulnerable. I hate being any of those things but hating them won’t make the feelings go away.

  The faucet turns on and sounds of water splashing onto the skin are audible. After a few minutes, Phoenix steps back out the door, his hands clean and his face pristine. Any sign of blood is gone. If he went out onto the street right now, nobody would be able to tell he just committed a murder.

  And he doesn’t even seem to be fazed by it, baffling me completely.

  He’s really something.

  He walks toward me, and I crawl back further into the bed. I don’t know why, but I have the constant sense that I’m in danger. That I should run. That everything around me is a threat. Even him.

  And he is. He locked me up. He imprisoned me in my own home and used me to his heart’s content, so I should be afraid. I guess it’s only natural to feel that way. The problem is that I don’t want to feel that way.

  He sits down on the bed beside me and leans in to gently caress my cheek.

  “Calm down,” he says. “It’s just me.”

  “Is he gone?”

  “Like he never existed in the first place.”

  I frown, nodding, but something about this still doesn’t feel right. I can’t get the images out of my head. This man touching me, talking to me, and trying to use me.

  I bobble up and down and try to soothe myself, but it’s not working. Phoenix crawls under the sheets with me and grabs me, making it impossible for me to move away.

  “Stop,” he commands with his dark voice. “Come here.”

  He drags me closer to him and wraps his arms around me, keeping my wrists and face locked against his chest. At first, panic bubbles to the surface, causing my breathing to become irregular, but his steady heartbeat and the strokes of his hand on my back make me sigh.

  Lying here with him, protected by his strong arms, I suddenly feel okay with being in his presence. Like it was always supposed to be this way. And strangely, this collar around my neck doesn’t feel so bad anymore. Instead, it reminds that I’m his now, and he protects what belongs to him. Always.

  CHAPTER 26

  PHOENIX

  Age 19, weeks after prom

  From behind a tree, I watch Vanessa walk up the platform to the graduation ceremony. She looks so happy with a bright smile on her face and her blue gown on. She holds the cap on her head so the strong wind doesn’t blow it off as she takes the stand. I hope that with every step she takes, she feels the burden of what she’s done pull her down.

  I never got a chance to succeed, let alone try.

  My fingers tighten around the band of my bag slung over my shoulder. One day … I’ll show her that she should’ve been more careful who to become enemies with.

  With my head held down, I sneak off the premises and to the parking lot where my buddies are waiting. After I’d been kicked out of school, my only friends invited me to join their gang. At first, I was skeptical, but when I saw how much money they made, my eyes had dollar signs in them. I mean, it’s not kosher work, as we’re selling drugs on the street, but who gives a shit. I just want to make money.

  “Hey,” they say when they see me.

  “Yo, I’m ready.”

  “You sure? I saw you watching that chick over there,” one of them says, nodding at the ceremony.

  I shake my head. “Nah, I just wanted to see how many potential customers are in the bleachers.”

  He smiles. “Sure …”

  I’m getting the feeling that he doesn’t really believe me. I was never a good liar to begin with. Too bad Vanessa didn’t show me the tricks of the trade.

  “Whatever; let’s just go wait in our usual spot. You,” he points at one of them, “Stay outside and talk to the people. Get them interested.”

  “Gotcha,” he says.

  We all walk to our c
orner where we’re at most of the times when we’re selling. We don’t want to do it out in the open and risk being caught, but we have to make sure people can find us, too. It’s the only way to make money … and money makes the world go round.

  One way or another, I’m going to have to survive. If I can’t do it by studying and getting a good job, I’ll just do the filthy work instead. There’s much more money to make here anyway.

  My foster parents don’t approve, but I don’t give a shit about them anymore. They never wanted me to begin with, always talking shit to be about how they think I’m a mess-up. I’m done with people telling me how I should be. I’m old enough to leave the house, so I’ve started sleeping at my bud’s place.

  When graduation is over, some students had already found their way to the parking lot, probably in for a night of celebration with a good smoke. I eagerly sell them my shit, happy to provide, until I spot a familiar face walking near the alley.

  My lips part as she stares at me in shock, both completely frozen in place.

  One of my partners clears his throat. “Hey, isn’t that—”

  “Vanessa?” I say.

  Her shocked face quickly turns into a full-out scowl. “Miles? What are you doing?”

  For a moment, I contemplate how to explain this to her, but then I remember … that bitch screwed me over, big time.

  My nose begins to twitch, and I push the drugs into my bud’s hand. “Wait here.” I walk toward her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Frowning, she looks up at me, not even a little bit scared of how much bigger I am than her or how badly I could hurt her … how much I want to.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she says, looking at my bud.

  “It’s none of your fucking business.”

  “Yeah, it is,” she says. “I don’t want you doing stupid things.”

  “You make me do stupid things, Vanessa. Because of you, I had to drop out.”

  She shakes her head. “You have it all wrong.”

 

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