Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

by Ally Vance

  “Oh.” I fold my arms, mirroring his position, except my arms are spindly, unlike his, which are wider than my thigh, and collapse back into the chair.

  He gets to his feet and crouches beside my chair, then strokes my cheek with the back of his forefinger. “You’re very beautiful, Calla. But you’ve also been through a traumatic ordeal. I want you, but I’ll never force you. I’ll wait for you to come to me.” He straightens and looks down at me with a victorious grin. “And you will.”

  Before I can respond, he turns on his heel and leaves me alone by the dying embers.

  “Hawk, come see this,” I whisper, beckoning to him.

  He steals over on silent feet, belying his huge frame, and crouches beside me. I point down to the lake below where a deer is drinking. Beside her is a little baby deer—I have no clue what the real name of a baby deer is.

  “Isn’t that gorgeous?”

  He nods and then smiles, and my insides quiver with excitement. Five weeks have passed since I awoke that evening and found out my fate, and while, in the real world, that’s no time at all, out here in the midst of nature, it feels like a lifetime.

  He’s stuck to his word and hasn’t laid a finger on me, but as time passes, I grow more and more needy. The physical injuries I suffered have healed, and while the mental ones will take a lot longer, with Hawk’s patient and gentle manner, I know they will fade, over time.

  “Look at you, at one with nature.”

  He stands and holds out his hand, and I take it without question. We meander through the dense forest that surrounds his cabin, locked in silence, but it’s comfortable and I don’t feel the need to break it.

  Every day, Hawk burrows further into my heart, quietly and without overt effort. I’m aware this looks seriously fucked up, and for all I know, my growing affection is very likely a form of Stockholm syndrome, but if it feels real to the person, who is to say it’s wrong?

  And, God, it’s real to me.

  As the sun begins to set, we head back to the cabin, and within ten minutes, Hawk gets to work on starting a fire. I watch his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, and my stomach rolls deliciously. I get to my feet and stand behind him, a hairsbreadth from us touching. I’m not sure whether he senses me there, but he turns, and his pupils dilate as he looks down at me. He sets the poker beside the fireplace, then straightens once more.

  “Calla.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, and I shiver at the feel of his roughened fingertips against my far softer skin. “What do you want?”

  I answer with a single word, the only one that matters. “You.”

  I half expect him to question me, to ask if I’m sure, but there’s none of that. He lifts me into his arms, so effortlessly, and strides into his bedroom. I’ve only been in here once on a day he drove into town for supplies. Curious, I went through his things, hoping to learn more about the man, but his room contained only the bare minimum of shirts, jeans, boots, and underwear. No personal items, which surprised me, considering he brought me some of mine. Then again, Hawk doesn’t strike me as the sentimental kind of man. He’s all hard lines and solid muscle.

  He sets me back on my feet and stares at me with hooded eyes as he slowly unbuttons his checked shirt. The two pieces of material part, and he shrugs it off, carelessly leaving it lying on the floor. My heart beats loudly in my ears, reminding me of rushing water, and my fingers tingle. I want to reach out and touch his extensively inked chest, and so I do. He takes a deep breath in as I flatten my palm over his pecs, and then his hand covers mine. We stand there, our breathing in sync.

  “I’m a rough, harsh man, Calla, but with you, I’ll try to be gentle.”

  I almost tell him I can handle rough, but I’m not sure I can. Not yet, and instinctively he must know that. His care and understanding only make me want him more.

  He removes his jeans but leaves his underwear on. My eyes drop south anyway, and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open as I take in his size. A sliver of fear causes me to tremble, and he sees it and reacts accordingly.

  “This won’t be like that night, Calla. Trust me.”

  I do trust him, so I simply nod and let him help me remove my clothes, leaving me standing there in a bra and a pair of cotton panties. I can’t afford fancy underwear, and so the items he brought from my apartment are all very practical and unsexy. To Hawk, though, it doesn’t seem to matter. The way he’s looking at me makes me feel sexier than all those lingerie models who strut catwalks all over the world.

  It occurs to me, not for the first time, or even the tenth, how bizarre it is that I’m attracted to the man who abducted me, but Hawk’s been nothing but kind and caring and generous, and I know, even before we’ve taken this next step, that if he does ever let me go, I’ll beg to stay.

  His big hand curves around my face, and he uses his thumbs underneath my chin to tip back my head. I’ve been kissed before, but only by boys at my high school, and the experiences weren’t memorable. He didn’t kiss me, and I’m glad because the second Hawk’s mouth covers mine, I know I’m in the hands of an expert, and this is a kiss I’ll never forget. My entire insides turn to mush, and my legs struggle to hold me upright, so I do the only thing I can think of: I wrap my arms around Hawk’s neck and anchor myself there.

  The clasp on my bra loosens, and Hawk slips the straps down my arms. He breaks our kiss, only to get on his knees and remove my panties. His eyes are locked on the dark patch of hair between my legs, and he strokes his roughened palm up the inside of my thigh. I automatically shuffle my feet wider, and he draws his finger through my curls, then pushes it inside me. I stiffen, expecting pain, but instead, the feeling is… incredible. Oh God, especially when he does that, where he curls the tip and touches something that makes me cry out in pleasure. I’m not familiar with my body. I’ve never really explored my sexuality, but damn this man knows everything. His thumb circles the cluster of nerves at the hood of my sex, and a strange swell begins to undulate through my abdomen. It peaks and I fall into bliss. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and as soon as it’s over and I meet his gaze and see his smile, all I know is I want to have that experience over and over again.

  He majestically rises to his feet, and immediately, the space gets smaller. Despite having lived with him all these weeks, his sheer size still has the power to surprise me. He’s a dangerous man; I already know this. He’s killed a man, maybe more than one. He abducts women who are ultimately trafficked into a life of sexual slavery, regardless of whether they end up serving The Elite or working in a filthy brothel. But even though I’m aware of all these things, to me he’s just Hawk, a man who chose me and made me his in all ways except for one.

  The one we’re about to embark on together.

  Hawk encourages me to lie on the bed. Unlike the one in my room, his is king-sized, and it needs to be. He takes up at least three-quarters of the space. He looms over me, and I suddenly realize he’s removed his boxer shorts when his erection, thick and rigid and hot, brushes against my belly.

  I risk a glance down. The head is purple, the skin stretched tight, a bead of moisture on the tip. But I’m not scared. I’m excited. I want this, him. I want to be with a real man, one who cares about me for me, not for my body.

  He shifts, and I brace for him to push inside me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me again, his tongue stroking mine, his hands skimming my sides, up to my breasts. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my nipple, and it feels so good I groan loudly, my back arching of its own volition. I’m reacting on instinct alone, my hips gyrating, seeking more friction, more heat, more of him.

  “If this hurts, you tell me, okay?” he grits out, his jaw locked tight, signaling the immense control he’s exerting.

  “I will,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t go slow, and although there’s a sharp sting, it’s over before I can even react to it, leaving behind a wonderful fullness.

  “Calla, you okay?”

  “Yes. God,
yes. Move, please.”

  The smile he gives me fills my chest with pride. His mouth comes down on mine, and it’s different from before, more urgent and demanding, and I meet everything he asks of me, our tongues dueling, our bodies smacking together, our hips moving in perfect time with each other. My first experience was horrific and painful and filled with vile tools and implements. This is heaven, and I never want it to end.

  Hawk moans, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, because I caused him to make that sound. He bends his head and sucks on my nipples, but his pace doesn’t slow. It increases, as does the delicious heat spreading through my middle. My heart is racing so fast, and I breathe in quick sips of air.

  “Fuck, Calla.”

  He speaks through a clenched jaw, but I get the meaning all the same. He’s lost, as am I.

  Without warning, he pulls out of me.

  “Come here, turn around.”

  He sits me up and faces me away from him. He’s so strong, his arms powerhouses, that he easily moves me about. He spreads my thighs on either side of his and pushes into me from behind. It’s so much fuller, and I swear the tip of his cock touches my uterus. He sweeps my hair over one shoulder and licks along my neck.

  “I want to taste you all over, Calla. I can’t get enough.”

  I don’t reply, because he chooses that moment to rub my clit, and seconds later, I fall into my second orgasm. I swear I see stars, flashing white spots behind my closed lids. I cry out, overwhelmed by the flood of sensations, alien before today, but now I crave for more.

  Hawk grunts, mutters a string of curse words, and then stills. His hands clasp my hips, holding me steady, and shortly afterward, he lifts me off him as if I weigh nothing and lays me on the mattress. Lying behind me, he wraps a huge arm around my waist and tucks me tight to his body.

  “Thank you, Calla.”

  “For what?”

  “For being mine.”

  Chapter Eight

  Hawk

  The next few weeks are the best of my life. Calla is everything I dreamed of and more. But I know the time is coming when I’ll have to return to Denver. After I first brought Calla here, I contacted Viper and made up an excuse about a family issue and needing to take time off. He’s stayed off my back, but I know it won’t be long before he’s demanding I get back in the game. In all the years I’ve worked for The Elite, I’ve never been off the grid for anywhere near this length of time, and the last thing I want is him getting suspicious. But at the same time, I don’t want to leave the sanctuary of my cabin out here in the middle of nowhere. It’s not that I don’t trust Calla—I do—but I’m also aware it’ll be harder to hide her back in Denver.

  And then it comes to me. I’ll ask for a transfer to one of the other regions. Maybe even abroad. I can track anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here.

  With my mind made up, I plan to leave the following morning. I’ll drive into town, grab enough provisions to last Calla for a few days, and then head back to Denver and put in my request to Viper. The only reason he has for refusing my request is one of pure selfishness. Replacing a tracker as good as I am won’t be easy, but Viper isn’t a vindictive man. If I play on personal issues, he won’t pry, and he’ll likely capitulate to my demands.

  I peer around the door to my bedroom—Calla hasn’t left since that first night I fucked her—to find she’s still fast asleep in my bed. I gently kiss her temple and have to curb the urge to climb in beside her. I leave a note on the kitchen table, informing her I’ll be back soon, and leave the cabin. Last night it snowed heavily, and my boots crunch on the fresh powder. I open the garage and back my truck out, then head down the mountain and into town.

  Armed with bags full of groceries, I load them into my truck and set off for home. Fresh snow begins to fall, and visibility is severely reduced. It takes me twice as long to drive back, but when I round the last bend in the road and my eyes fall on the enormous gunmetal-gray four-by-four SUV parked in front of my house, I let out a stream of curses.

  God-fucking-dammit.

  I know that car.

  It’s Viper’s.

  How the fuck has he found me here?

  There’s only one way to get the answer so I park next to him and sprint toward the house. Bursting through the door, I seek out Calla, relief swarming through me as I see her sitting in her favorite chair by the fire, feet curled beneath her, nursing a steaming cup of coffee. She looks relaxed and unconcerned, and it occurs to me that she doesn’t recognize the man sitting across from her.

  Viper smiles genially, but there’s a hardness in his gaze that gives me pause for thought. I have to play this very carefully. I have a trump card, but if I can avoid playing it, I’d prefer to. If it comes to it, though, I won’t hesitate.

  “Viper,” I say. “What a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Thought I’d just drop by.”

  He rises to his feet and extends his hand. I shake it.

  “This lovely lady has been taking wonderful care of me while you’ve been gone.”

  Calla beams. I shoot her a smile, not wanting her to pick up on my tense body language. There isn’t anywhere private in the cabin for Viper and me to talk, and so I cock my head at him and invite him to go for a walk. Calla doesn’t question the sense of going outside in the middle of a snowstorm, but the appearance of a frown lets me know what she thinks of the idea.

  I close the door behind us, shutting out the brisk wind, and set off down the track. Viper follows. I’m taking a risk by walking ahead of him. He might stick a knife in my back or put a bullet in my brain, but I don’t truly think he will. At least not before he gets answers.

  As soon as we’re far enough away from the house, I stop and turn to face him.

  “How did you find me?”

  He smiles. “Come on, Hawk. You’re really asking that question? You and I both know The Elite can track anyone they choose. There is no hiding place, and no escape.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “I thought there was something odd that night when you tried to persuade me to let her go with you. It must have been difficult when Typhon chose her.”

  My hands curl into fists, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Viper. I don’t answer. I don’t need to. He knows.

  “Why her?”

  I figure there’s no harm in telling him the truth. He can smell a lie anyway. “She wasn’t meant to be there. I chose her for me, not for The Elite.”

  “That’s not how this works and you know it.”

  I shake my head vigorously. “I disagree. An order wasn’t placed for someone of Calla’s description. I spotted her long before that night. I bided my time, carefully chose my moment, and then Baron fucked everything up.”

  “Ah, Baron.” Viper rubs his fingers over his lips. “Unfortunately, Baron met a rather gruesome end. His body washed up about thirty miles south of our facility. Someone had knifed him. Broke several ribs in the process, too. Must’ve driven that knife in with some anger. And some power.”

  He peruses me, looking me up and down, waiting for a confession. He knows I did it.

  I shrug. “He had it coming.”

  “That may be, but it’s not your call.”

  Anger rears inside me as I recall how I felt when Calla staggered into that room, her eyes wild with fear, and I knew I was powerless to stop her fate.

  “It was my fucking call,” I roar. “He stole something that belonged to me. He’s fucking lucky I made it quick. If I’d had the time, I’d have tortured the bastard for days for what he did.”

  Viper doesn’t look remotely affronted at my outburst. In fact, his lips even curve slightly.

  “And what about Typhon? You must want to kill him, too, surely. If this girl means as much to you as I figure, given your robust defense of her honor.”

  My lips thin into a flat line. He isn’t wrong, but killing Typhon is way beyond my pay grade, as Viper knows only too well.

  “If I
could, believe me, I would.”

  Viper chuckles. “I’ve no doubt. But this is a conundrum, Hawk. You and I both know you’ve broken a rule here, one that comes with penalties.”

  I had hoped our long association might mean he would cut me some slack, but he isn’t going to. I’ll have to use my trump card. I reach into the pocket of my thick coat and close my fingers around the oval object. I hold it in the palm of my hand, ready to reveal it when necessary. Before I give it up, I want to know what Viper has in mind for my punishment. If I’m the one who suffers, I’m okay with that. If it’s Calla, then it’s a no.

  “What kind of penalties?”

  He cants his head to the side. “You’re my best tracker, Hawk. I don’t want to lose you. I haven’t told anyone else what you’ve done yet, and that affords me a little leeway. So here’s what I’ll do. You take that girl to where she should have ended up that night and forget about her, then get your ass back to work and we’ll say no more about her or Baron’s untimely death. But refuse, and…” He draws a finger across his throat. “And that goes for her, too.”

  I feel the weight of the marker in my hand, and it calms me. If I didn’t have it, I’d kill Viper with my bare hands for daring to suggest I ship Calla off to a brothel without giving it a second thought. I wouldn’t survive killing someone of Viper’s standing within The Elite organization, but I’d make damn sure Calla did. He already told me no one else knows about her.

  But I don’t want to kill Viper. Instead, I extend my arm and open my hand.

  His eyes go wide, and he plucks the object from my palm, examining it carefully. It’s completely genuine, and he knows it, too. His head comes up, surprise tightening the skin across his cheekbones.

  “She’s worth this much to you?”

  I nod. “I love her.”

  His lips twist to the side. “You must, to give up something as valuable as this. Where did you get it?”

  “A few years ago, I saved the life of one of the top commanders in The Elite. It’s a personal story and one I don’t intend to share with you, but he gave me that and told me to use it when I saw no other way out.” I shrug. “I see no other way out.”