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Stalkers: A Dark Romance Anthology

Page 55

by Ally Vance


  She glanced up; her head dipped back so she could meet my stare. “I…” Her chest heaved on another breath. “I should be scared.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Why am I not scared?”

  My lips quirked into a smirk. She knew she was meant to feel a certain way, but that didn’t mean she actually felt like that. Her body was telling her one thing and her brain another, I could see the war raging in her eyes. The same war I’d been battling since I first saw her.

  “You’re not afraid,” I told her simply, taking one last step toward her. There were only centimeters of space between us. One move and I could be touching her.

  “I’m not,” she croaked out, her gaze not leaving mine for even a millisecond. She was captivated by me, just like I was with her.

  I didn’t hesitate. I knew it was now or never. Fate has stepped in our path and demanded something from us. I was simply fulfilling its demands.

  My hand met her bicep and she gasped at the soft touch. My knuckles were swollen thanks to going too hard in practice today. “I’ve wanted to do this for what feels like forever.” I let my palm drift up to the side of her neck then kept it there.

  “What’s your name?” she whispered, her body leaning forward.

  I stared into her light eyes, needing them to keep me grounded as I told her, “Nixon.”

  “Nixon,” she repeated, wrapping her lips around the syllables in a way I’d never heard before. “It…” She blinked as I pressed my body to hers, feeling her curves against me and wishing we weren’t standing next to a trash can. “It suits you.”

  Her shaky hand pushed some hair behind her ear, her tongue coming out to swipe against her bottom lip.

  “I’m gonna kiss you now,” I told her, not giving her the chance to deny me. “I’m gonna kiss you like I’ve imagined every day since I first laid eyes on you.”

  She nodded, her lips parting at my words, and I didn’t waste another second. I slammed my mouth against hers, yanking her body even closer to mine, and taking what I’d craved for what felt like years.

  Her soft lips relinquished to mine, her soft sigh lighting me on fire. I traced my tongue against her lips then swiped it along the tip of her tongue.

  She groaned as I wrapped my arms around her, and without hesitating, she boosted herself up, her legs locking around my waist.

  Kloey’s tongue trailed along mine and my hips shunted forward from her touch. She was making me lose myself in a way nothing else ever had.

  I wasn’t sure how long our lips stayed fused together, but at some stage we ended up back in the shadows where I’d been waiting for her—where I was most comfortable.

  “More,” she begged, pulling away just enough to get the word out.

  I knew what she wanted, not just because of what she was saying vocally, but because her body was begging me to touch it.

  I reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, my gaze fixated on her eyes, but something stopped me. Something told me to wait.

  “Nixon?” Kloey frowned, blinking rapidly. “What—"

  “Not here,” I said, pressing my forehead to hers. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to touch between her legs. I wanted to see her naked. I wanted to press against her and make her feel things she couldn’t have dreamed about.

  But…

  Not here.

  I’d lived in the shadows for too long, and now the prospect of coming out of them was...too much.

  I slowly let her legs down, making sure she was steady, then backed away.

  “What’s happening right now?” Kloey asked, the confusion on her face clear as day.

  “I…” I swiped my hand down my face, growling in frustration. I’d waited for her. I’d waited for this moment for weeks. And now...now I was the one who was bailing. “I need to…” I couldn’t explain it to her because I didn’t understand it myself.

  So I spun around and darted away from her, keeping in the darkness of the shadows where I felt most at home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kloey

  I didn’t understand why.

  He’d admitted to following me for weeks.

  He’d driven me home a couple of nights ago.

  But now he was walking away.

  He was bailing on me and I had no idea why.

  My stomach rolled the farther away he got from me, until finally I couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, couldn’t...feel him, anymore.

  I lifted my fingertips to my lips, remembering how he was both hard and soft all at the same time. He taken what he wanted—what I wanted to give—and I wanted more.

  No.

  I needed more.

  Closing my eyes, I leaned against the scratchy brick wall, hoping that wasn’t the last time I would see him.

  It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t just walk away now, not after that. Not after he’d been watching me.

  Right?

  My heart hammered in my chest, hope building that this wasn’t the end.

  I shook my head. How could it be the end when nothing had really begun?

  Was I stupid for giving in to him? Was I wrong to want him to follow me again? Was I naive in thinking this could be something?

  “Kloey!” I gasped, pushing off the wall as a figure appeared at the back door of the burger joint. “Get back in here and do your damn job!”

  “Coming,” I shouted back, staying where I couldn’t be seen until he was gone. I had several hours left on my shift, and the odds were in my favor that Nixon would be there when I finished.

  I grinned.

  He was always there, so tonight wouldn’t be any different. Right?

  Wrong.

  I was so wrong.

  I’d searched for him when I walked out of the locked-up burger joint, but he hadn’t been there.

  Still though, I’d held onto hope that he was staying well hidden. So I started the walk to my apartment like usual.

  Only...every time I turned back, there was no one there. Not a single noise, not a feeling...nothing.

  He hadn’t come. He hadn’t slipped into the darkness and watched me like he had every other night.

  I told myself the entire walk home that he’d turn up, but when I walked inside and kept the lights off so I could peek outside without anyone seeing, he still wasn’t there.

  I knew it wasn’t normal for someone to want to be followed. But...it was different with him.

  My body craved him to watch it, and my brain needed his attention.

  “Fuck,” I spat, staring out of the window and not seeing a single soul on the darkened sidewalk. “Where are you?”

  I didn’t look away, expecting him to appear any second, but he didn’t. He wasn’t here, and I had no idea where he could be. I’d only ever seen him coming out of the gym. And today was the first time I’d learned his name.

  Dammit. What if I never saw him again?

  I backed away from the window, my eyes widening. I had to see him again. There wasn’t a choice in the matter. And if he wasn’t going to come to me, then I was going to go to him.

  I yanked my cell out of my pocket, then typed Nixon and the name of the gym into a search engine. Several links appeared, but it was the one with his face next to it that I clicked on.

  Nixon Deacon may be dubbed the destroyer, but can he hold onto his newly won title?

  Nixon Deacon destroyed his opponent in his first ever title match only three weeks ago, but today we had confirmation that he would be defending it in only two day’s time.

  For MMA, this is a quick turnaround, but if anyone can do it, Nixon Deacon can.

  I had the good fortune to talk to Nixon after he won his title match, and I can attest to the fact that only one bruise marked his face. He was in great condition, so it’s no surprise to me that he’s already defending his title.

  But is it too soon?

  On the outside he may have looked fine, but what about the inside? The body takes a beating when preparing for a fight; it’s not just about the hits for that nigh
t.

  But Nixon’s statement released only an hour ago confirms the new match. I know I’ll be there, will you?

  Landon Copeland

  MMA Sports Co.

  He was a fighter.

  An MMA fighter.

  It made sense now.

  And I knew just the place to find him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nixon

  The chanting started while I was in the locker room warming up. Normally I wouldn’t let it into my head, but today was different.

  Coach wasn’t happy with my decision to fight, but it was me who had the last say. And I needed this. I needed a distraction. I needed something to occupy my time. I needed something to stop me going to Kloey.

  Fuck. I was thinking about her again.

  I’d gone too far; done things no sane person would do. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Tonight was meant to be a Kloey thought free zone, but even she pushed through the chanting from the main room.

  “You okay, son?” Coach asked, bending down in front of me.

  I didn’t meet his gaze as I ground out, “Why wouldn’t I be?” and stood. I was ready to defend my title. Ready to let out all of my stresses in a place where it was allowed.

  I jumped up and down on the spot as I heard the announcer call out my opponent's name. I didn’t even remember what it was until they called out Jay “the machine” Meetan.

  Pulling my hoodie over my head, I exited the locker room in my bare feet and sweats. It was a quick walk to the main room, and as I stood at the edge of the door waiting for my name to be announced, all my thoughts quietened.

  I grinned, reminding myself I hadn’t put my gum shield in yet, so I did so. The last thing I wanted was to lose any teeth.

  “And now, defending his title, Nixon “the destroyer” Deacon!”

  Cheers roared out with a few boos thrown in there, but I didn’t look at a single person as I made my way to the cage. I was on a mission, one that no one could pull me away from.

  I yanked my sweats down at the edge of the cage—leaving me in just a pair of skintight shorts—then handed them to Coach.

  “You got this,” he said, giving me a nod.”

  I didn’t reply as I took the steps to the cage two at a time. Then finally it locked behind me, leaving just me, the ref, and the man who I was about to take my frustrations out on.

  The ref did his usual speech and then the bell was ringing, and we were off. Two minutes per round didn’t sound like a long time, but when you were trapped with a guy hitting on you, it felt like forever.

  He got in several good punches, but so did I. The first round was always about testing who your opponent was. It didn’t matter how many tapes you’d watched; you never truly knew until you were in the ring with them.

  The bell rang so I moved back to my corner. Coach slammed the stool down on the canvas for me to sit, and I wasn’t sure what made me look out into the crowd.

  Maybe it was a feeling. Or maybe it was fate demanding I obeyed their commands.

  But my eyes zoned in on a woman sitting toward the back of the room. A woman I couldn’t fully make out but knew even from this distance I knew who it was.

  “What the fuck,” I spat out. Time in the corner was limited, and I knew I should have been listening to Coach’s advice, but all I could concentrate on was her.

  The bell rang again, and I stood, tearing my gaze off of her. But I wasn’t in the right headspace, not now I’d seen her in the crowd.

  Jay got several good punches in, and then he was climbing me like a goddamn tree and bringing me to the ground.

  He locked my arm between his legs, pulling at it just enough to get me to submit. But I never would. I’d rather that he broke it than submit. Maybe he knew that and wanted to be the first person who made me tap out.

  I was in the middle of the round, being held to the ground, yet my gaze couldn’t help but veer back into the crowd.

  But she wasn’t there. She wasn’t where she’d—

  “Come on, Nixon!” I heard her shout, and my head snapped to the left. She’d come closer. She’d come to see me fight.

  The bell rang out. Jay let go immediately, and I jumped up, practically running to my corner as Coach came into the cage.

  I sat on the stool, keeping my eyes fixed on hers and crooked my fingers at her.

  Her eyes widened, her body snapping upright. But she did as I silently demanded. She came closer.

  “See her, Coach?”

  “Now isn’t the time—"

  “I don’t give a fuck,” I ground out, turning to face him. “Get her and keep her at the corner with you.”

  Coach huffed out a breath. “Fine.” He knew better than to argue with me in the middle of a match. “As long as you fuckin' fight and stop playing around.”

  I rolled my shoulders and stood as the bell rang out. “You got it, Coach.”

  And I had got it. The sooner I got out of this ring, the sooner I could find out what the hell she was thinking coming here.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kloey

  The cage door slammed shut behind the man who had been talking to Nixon, and as soon as he’d jumped down the steps, he made a beeline for me.

  “Nix wants you to stand with us.” He tilted his head for me to come forward.

  Half of me wanted to run away, to leave and act like I hadn’t come, but I knew I couldn’t. I’d come here for a reason, even if I didn’t fully understand that reason.

  So I moved toward the man who was now huddled with the other men, all watching Nixon fight in the ring.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he hit the other guy, this round was different though. More brutal, as if he wanted to get out of the cage quicker and not give his opponent the false hope of winning.

  He jabbed him in the face twice, backed up a step, then did some intricate kick that ended with the heel of his foot smacking against the guy’s temple.

  There was a fraction of a second where his opponent just stood there. Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head. And he went down like a ton of bricks, his body slapping against the canvas.

  Cheers rang out so loud I had to cover my ears from the noise. Nixon didn’t pay attention to them as he crouched at the side of the cage and spoke to one of the men who I was standing by.

  The man turned, his name, Dex, written on his T-shirt. He said something back to Nixon, his eyes on me, then moved toward me. “Come on.” He reached for my arm, but I sidestepped him. He didn’t need to touch me to get me to go somewhere.

  “Go,” Nixon’s voice broke through the roars, and when I met his gaze, I knew I would do anything he said.

  I waited in the small room for what felt like a lifetime. The roars of the crowd had turned into silence, the people walking up and down the hallway became fewer.

  Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and as I got to the hour mark, I debated just leaving. But the hope of seeing him again and finding out what the hell was happening between us was too much, so I stayed.

  I stayed until two hours had ticked by. I paced the small room which held several lockers and one bench. It was clear they’d been put here especially for the match, but no one was using them, not right now anyway.

  I sat on the bench and huffed out a breath right at the same second the door swung open. I didn’t need to look up to know that it was Nixon, but I did anyway.

  His stare didn’t meet mine as he stepped inside and locked the door behind him, trapping us in the small space. Not that I minded anyway.

  I knew I was safe with him. I didn’t know how, but I just knew.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

  “I…” I bit down on my bottom lip and stood, not wanting to be so much lower than him. He was already at least a foot taller than me when I was standing. “You didn’t follow me…”

  My heart hammered in my chest, my fear of what he would say thrumming through me. Had he got ti
red of me now that he knew that I knew who he was? Was it a game he liked to play? Was it—

  “I have.” His eyes met mine, a few bruises marking his face. “There hasn’t been a night where I haven’t been outside your apartment Kloey.” He stepped toward me, causing the space to feel impossibly smaller than it already was.

  “I…I didn’t see you.”

  His lips quirked. “I didn’t want you to.” He stood inches away, neither of our bodies touching. “You searched for me.” He tilted his head to the side. “You found me here.”

  “I…did.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, wasn’t sure how to act, but when his eyes flashed, I pushed my shoulders back. “You’re not the only one who can stalk, you know.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Normally if you like someone you’re meant to tell them, not follow them constantly.”

  “Is that so?” He dipped his head, bringing his face closer to mine. “Look what happened when you thought I wasn’t following you.” He paused, but I didn’t reply to him. “You like it, don’t you?” He chuckled, the sound so deep it had butterflies swarming in my stomach. “You like the thought of me following you, huh?”

  “Yes,” I breathed out. There was no point in denying it. I wanted him to watch me.

  “Fuck,” he ground out. “You’re even more perfect than I thought you were.”

  I didn’t get the chance to answer him because his lips were on mine, hard and heavy, demanding that I open up to him. And I did. I gave my body to him freely, something I’d never done before.

  He may have been in control, but I knew if I said no that he would stop. I knew he wasn’t a danger, not to me anyway.

  His hands yanked at my top, but when it didn’t move off my body fast enough, he tore it open, revealing my bare chest to him. It wasn’t something I’d done on purpose, but it was a convenience I hadn’t even thought about.

 

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