Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  This can never happen again.

  I scoop up my clothes and carefully extract the car keys—the real keys, I hope—from Rhys’ pants, and slip out the bedroom door into the living room.

  I don’t bother putting anything on except for my underwear and T-shirt, and then I run out to the car carrying everything else. It unlocks and I slide into the driver’s seat. The gates grind open. I stare into the rearview mirror, nearly hyperventilating, expecting at any second for Rhys to come running out. As soon as the gate is open wide enough, I step on the accelerator and race down the road in a shower of gravel.

  Only when I’m several miles from the cabin and in sight of a major road, do I pull over and put the rest of my clothes and shoes on.

  I did it. I escaped from Rhys.

  So why do I feel like the place I’m running to is colder and darker than the place I just left?

  Just over an hour later, as the sun is just breaking over the horizon, I pull into an empty car space near my building. I leave Rhys’ car there with the keys in the ignition. If he wants it, he can find it himself.

  Inside my flat, I sit on the sofa with my phone clenched in my hand, wondering what the hell I should do now. My phone buzzes and I nearly throw it across the room. There’s a one-word text message on the screen. Slut.

  My stomach lurches. Rhys must have discovered I’m gone and he’s angry with me, but when I open the message, I see that it’s from Mitchell. He sent me a screengrab of a message he received. It’s a photograph of me. Of me and Rhys, one that I realize must have been taken just a few hours ago. Another one of Rhys’ hidden cameras. The picture shows Rhys’ muscular back and, clearly visible over his shoulder, me, naked from the waist up with Rhys palming my breast. My head is tipped back and my face is flushed like I’m coming.

  I stare at myself. I am coming. Rhys is slamming his fingers into me.

  There’s a message from Rhys to Mitchell with the photograph. How she looks when she comes four times, hard. I thought you should see this at least once in your sorry life.

  I glance again at Mitchell’s one-word message. Slut.

  A few minutes later, an unfamiliar number calls me. It must be Rhys. I reject the call and block the number, but he starts calling from different unknown numbers, over and over.

  Finally, I pick up one of the calls and scream, “I know it’s you, Rhys. Leave me the hell alone.” I hang up without waiting for a reply.

  My phone stops ringing, but ten minutes later, the buzzer to my apartment goes off. I stay where I am, staring at the door. There’s nowhere I can turn. The police won’t believe that I was taken against my will when they see the pictures Rhys has of us having sex, and they’ll take the side of one of their own. I can’t even call Mitchell for help.

  Mitchell. Anger swells in me as I read his text message again. Slut. Now I know why he asked me to move to the city instead of dumping me like he probably wanted to. Kelly is his boss’s wife, and I must have been an ideal way for him to throw off any of his boss’s suspicions. I thought I was being a good girlfriend when I never demanded more from Mitchell. I never interfered with his life or protested when he didn’t even make an inch of space for me. I was so pathetically grateful for the slightest attention he bestowed on me. Mitchell must have seen a girl with doormat stamped on her forehead whenever he looked at me.

  I angrily type out a message to Mitchell. I’ve only had one dick that counts this year so I’m not sure how that makes me a slut. Enjoy getting fired when your boss finds out you’re screwing his wife.

  I hit send, and instantly regret it. Rhys has probably installed spyware on my phone and he’ll be feeling so goddamn smug reading that about his dick.

  I take a shower and get dressed. I don’t know where I find the energy after no sleep and the ordeal I’ve been through. I must be running on the last of my adrenalin. I go out and buy a new phone and sim card, as well as a new laptop. I even throw out my sex toys because looking at them reminds me of how often Rhys must have watched me using them on myself.

  That afternoon, a security expert does a thorough sweep of my apartment and finds six more bugs and two hidden cameras. He changes the lock on my door and advises me to move as soon as possible.

  “The security in this building is terrible,” he tells me on his way out.

  My stomach lurches as I remember Rhys saying the same thing. “Thanks. I’ll move as soon as possible.”

  I collapse into bed, and sleep. My new phone stays silent. For the first time in months, Rhys is completely cut off from me. I hope it’s hell for him.

  The heavy footsteps I hear coming along the hall outside my apartment that evening make all the hairs stand up on the nape of my neck. I’m so tuned into his presence that he only needs to come near me and my whole body reacts.

  “Alaina,” he calls through the door.

  I picture him out there, large hands pressed on either side of the doorframe, head bowed as he listens for the slightest sound of my presence within.

  I hesitate on the other side, wanting to fling the door open and throw myself into his arms. My stalker’s arms. He’s dangerous and he can’t be trusted, not with my body and certainly not with my heart.

  “I can see your feet under the door.”

  Shit.

  “Go away! You know I can’t call the cops on you, so if you ever cared about me even one tiny bit, you’ll leave me alone.”

  He continues in that same steady tone. “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m never talking to you again.”

  “Please come downstairs. I want to give you something.”

  “Put it in my letterbox. You know, like you did with all those letters.”

  “It’s too precious. I’ll be waiting in the street.” After those words, his footsteps recede.

  I go to the peephole to make sure he’s really gone and see no sign of him, but he could be waiting just out of sight to snatch me. My heart does a little somersault at the thought.

  Out of fear, or a sick hope?

  When I go to the window and peer out, he’s gazing up at my window, hands deep in his pockets, looking right at me.

  Rhys pulls one hand from his pocket, and dangling from his finger is a set of keys. I clutch the window frame in horror. Are those keys to my apartment? Is he showing me that he can get in whenever he wants?

  That bastard.

  I fly to the door and run out of my apartment. Downstairs, I hurry out into the middle of the road. I want people to be able to see me if something goes down. Rhys is dressed in his usual dark gray suit. He looks the same as he did when I saw him at the police station, except now, I know what those lips feel like on mine. How those hands feel as he pushes my thighs apart, ready to fuck me how he knows I need it.

  He holds out the keys and I step forward quickly, snatching them from him before backing off again. I examine them closely, but they’re not my keys. I’ve never seen them before. “What are these?”

  Rhys is drinking me in like it might be the last time he ever lays eyes on me. “Keys to my cabin.”

  My brow wrinkles in confusion. “Your cabin?”

  Slowly, he nods. Damn, I wish he didn’t look so good just standing there. The keys are warm from his hand and my fingers wrap around them, making the most of that little piece of warmth.

  “It took me years to save for that place. I got it just how I wanted it. It’s the only place that gave me solace when I was driven crazy by thoughts of you.”

  I still don’t understand. If he thinks I’m going to go there with him then I’ll throw these keys in his face.

  “You liked it there. It’s yours now.”

  Rhys turns and starts walking away, and every nerve in my body screams in panic. This is how it ends? With a set of keys?

  I call after him, “You think this makes everything okay? I don’t forgive you.”

  Rhys turns back to me. “I know.”

  “So what the hell is this?” I ask, holding up the keys. />
  “I only love two things. I figure they should be together.”

  I feel like he’s punched me squarely in the solar plexus. Before I can recover, he’s already thirty feet away from me and his long legs are eating up the road. He gets into his car, pulls away, and is gone.

  I stare at the keys in my hand, feeling like I’ve been given the worst consolation prize ever.

  The keys sit on the windowsill in my apartment for the rest of the week. I don’t want anything from Rhys, even if it is that beautiful cabin. I’m mad at myself for even still thinking it’s beautiful after what happened there.

  Rhys emailed me the deed and the place is legally mine. The best thing to do would be to sell it and use the money to get far, far away from Philadelphia.

  And yet I feel stuck.

  On the weekend, I rent a car and drive up to the cabin, hoping that looking at the place will give me some idea about what I want to do with it. It’s freezing, and there’s ice on the roads. I drive with tense shoulders, hating every second of this terrifying drive. With a few miles to go, it starts to snow. I slow right down, my stomach rolling with anxiety.

  As the gates pull back, I see what I didn’t the night Rhys brought me here. A Christmas-card perfect cabin with a loveseat on the porch and ice lacing the roof. It’s a dream house. A haven from the world with its solid walls and inviting furniture, just glimpsed through the windows.

  I unlock the front door, feeling like I’m in a daze as I walk from room to room with tears in my eyes. Rhys is there in every object. Every color. Every piece of furniture.

  Except he’s not here, and he never will be again.

  I stare at the bed where Rhys stripped me bare and showed me a side of him that I never knew existed. I should feel disturbed, but there’s only confusion and a longing so fierce it takes my breath away.

  I find myself back in the living room and collapse onto the sofa. My cheek on a cushion, as I watch the snow swirl in through the open front door because I don’t have the energy to get up and close it. I can smell Rhys in the cushion, and I clench it tighter in my arms and sob. The cold is seeping through my sweater and I start to shiver violently. I hate this.

  I hate this so much.

  I reach for my phone with a shaking hand and dial a number. He answers after barely a ring. “Alaina?”

  I close my eyes at the sound of his voice, tears shimmering on my eyelids.

  “You’re at the cabin, aren’t you?”

  The sound of his voice fills the aching void inside of me. Whenever I was scared, he was the one to pull me out.

  “I’m drowning, Rhys.”

  “Keep breathing, baby. I’m coming as fast as I can. Just keep breathing.”

  The line goes dead. I stay where I am as the snow turns the carpet white. I don’t even feel cold anymore. The numbness eases all the wretchedness and loneliness in my heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Rhys

  I run up the porch steps and through the open front door. The temperature in the cabin is below freezing and the heat is off. The carpet is strewn with snow.

  Alaina is lying on the sofa in jeans and a thin sweater. She’s wrapped around a cushion and her face is paper white. I run to her with a cry of shock.

  “Baby, what are you doing? Why did you do this to yourself?” Pain and guilt slice through me. I did this to her. I caused her so much anguish that she needed to hurt herself.

  When I pick her up, her skin is frozen and her body is so cold that she’s not even shivering. I flick the heat on as I carry her to the bedroom and kick the door closed behind us.

  Working quickly, I strip us both naked and get into bed with her, heaping the covers on top of us. She’s like an ice block against me. I wrap the blankets tighter around us, placing her frozen feet on mine and chafing her hands with my own.

  “Come on baby, come on,” I murmur, trying to get some sign of life from her.

  As my warmth seeps into her, her body slowly comes to life again and she starts to shiver. Thank fucking Christ. I hold her naked body tightly through the shakes. My girl is coming back to life. It’s violent and it’s scary, but sometimes that’s just what’s needed.

  When the shivers ease off, I look down at her, cocooned in my arms, and find her gazing back at me. “Tell me what’s in your heart. I need to hear it, Alaina. Tell me every ugly and beautiful thing.”

  Her fingers stroke across my jaw, as if she’s seeing me for the first time. “It was so easy lying to myself about my life. You ripped that all away and I wanted to hate you for that.”

  The truth is a bitch. I learned that all the times I saw Mitchell and Alaina together.

  “You’re in every wall of this cabin. Every light. Every shadow. That’s why you gave me this place, didn’t you? So I would have to think of you. But it wasn’t really you. You weren’t here.”

  “I’m here now. I’m never letting you go again.”

  Alaina flicks up her eyes to me, as bold and as fierce as she was as a teenager when she told me to go to hell. “You’re crazy, Rhys Thorn.”

  “You make me crazy. You always have.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  Force myself into her life and her into my bed? Scare her out of her mind? Destroy her relationship and leave her paralyzed in the aftermath of what I did to her?

  My eyes run over her face. At my woman enfolded in my arms with her cheek on my shoulder and her hand against my chest. “Yes. A thousand times, if I had to.”

  “Screw you,” she whispers. And then she kisses me.

  I groan against her mouth and kiss her back, crushing her sweet body against mine. I’d do what I did a thousand times over if it means I would have Alaina in my arms like she is now, kissing me like her life depends on it.

  “No one’s ever…” She stops, her throat closing up.

  She doesn’t need to tell me that no one except me has given a damn about her, her whole goddamn life. I saw every excruciating second of her pain until I couldn’t bear it anymore. “I know, baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel whole.”

  Alaina studies my face, breathless, as if she can’t believe what I’m saying is real.

  Believe me, baby. Believe me.

  “I’ll always go a little bit crazy if you’re not in my arms, so you’d better just stay right here.”

  The tip of her tongue flicks against my top lip. “Maybe I want you a little bit crazy sometimes.”

  I growl and slide my hands down over her plump ass to part her thighs. Her bare pussy rubs against my cock, which has hardened so quickly at her words I feel like I could burst. “I can go crazy for you, baby, anytime you want.”

  I scoop her up in my arms and drop her down on her back. Fisting my cock, I rub it through her slick folds. So pretty. So vulnerable. “Did you get wet thinking about me fucking you like last time?”

  Alaina whimpers and nods. “I like it when you take me.”

  Jesus Christ. I sink just a few inches into her tight heat and Alaina wraps her legs around me, pulling me fully into her. Her nails score my back and she cries out loudly as I impale her.

  “Would you let me go if I tried to run?” she asks.

  “Never.” I hammer into her, making her squeal. Showing her just how crazy she makes, how much I want her. “You try to leave me and I’ll pin you down and fuck you like this until you can’t move.”

  I pull out and slide down her body, capturing her clit with my lips. All mine. Every inch of her body, given willingly. She’s even sweeter this way. Every swirl of my tongue has her crying out my name, and when she comes, I lick all over her pussy.

  I flip her over and drag her up onto her knees. “Hold the headboard. I want to fuck you deep.”

  Alaina does as she’s told and wriggles her knees open, letting me plunge hard and deep into her pussy. Such a good girl for me. I press down on her lower back and pull her to me, making her feel every inch of me as I pound into her hard.

  “You like i
t when I take you, baby? You like it when I possess this tight little pussy of yours?”

  Alaina is holding on for dear life to the headboard and can’t even form words. Just three more strokes and she’s clamping around my cock and coming with one long cry. It’s most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t hold on a second longer and burst inside of her, leaning over her body, gripping the headboard with one hand and wrapping my other arm around her waist.

  I press my face into her back and groan in satisfaction, feeling like I’ve released a decade of pent-up frustration. The first time was just a taste. This time was Alaina, giving herself fully to me.

  “Come on, baby. Come here.” I pull her down beside me on the bed and wrap my arms and legs around her. I don’t think I could bear not touching her even for a second.

  Alaina nestles against me. “What do we do now?”

  I glance around the room. Out the window at the falling snow. “We spend the rest of the weekend here. Then, we go home to my apartment tomorrow night, so I can fuck you in my bed. I won’t feel right until I’ve made you come there and you sleep in my arms.”

  She rubs the tip of her nose against my chest and smiles. “I like the sound of that. And then what?”

  “Then I help you move your stuff into my apartment and you stay with me forever.”

  I study her carefully, wondering if she’s going to try and wriggle out of that by saying it’s too soon, but Alaina just blinks slowly and smiles up at me. “That sounds perfect.”

  Yeah, it really fucking does.

  She sits up and stretches her arms over her head. The sheets drop away and her long hair cascades down her back. I stroke her back, admiring how beautiful she looks against the bright winter day.

  Alaina turns around and looks at me, her nipples turning into tight peaks. She’s not the least bit bashful about her nakedness and I feel myself getting hard again in response.

  “What are we supposed to tell people who ask how we got together?”

  I lay back and pull her astride me. She feels my cock between her thighs and she rubs her pussy against me. “The truth. That I loved you from afar all my life, and when I couldn’t take not being with you a second longer, I swept you off your feet.”