Chapter 6
COLTON
I s she for fucking real?
Luella is stripping by her bedroom window, her full tits on display as her shirt hangs loosely beside them. She’s scanning the street, a wicked smile on her lips, like she’s looking for someone. Every nerve in my body is on fire, wondering what the fuck she thinks she is doing.
But then she lifts a rose to her face, inhaling it before throwing her head back, allowing the black rose to do what I want to be doing to her—trailing between the valley of her tits, moving further down, until it disappears. Luella sighs, gazing out at the street longingly. But the rage has subsided now—because now I know that little show was for me. She steps back and moves out of sight, a wolfish smile on her mouth.
Fuck. I’m so fucking hard right now, and it’s her fault. Why would she do that if she didn’t want me to break her fucking door down and fuck her senseless? I would tear that shirt from her body with my fucking teeth.
Go and do it then.
I close my eyes and inhale slowly, then release. The voices are slowly taking over, but I’ll be damned if they’ll tell me what to do when it comes to her.
Because she owns you. She’s in control, Colton, not you.
I swallow my fury, and instead slip away, heading back to my temporary accommodation. It just so happens to be in the same apartment complex as Luella, which comes in very handy. I slide my phone from my pocket and swipe at the screen, the pain in my chest increasing without being able to see her. But then I hit the live feed, and there she is.
My body sags with relief.
Pathetic.
My father’s voice is the worst of them all. The other voices in my head, the relentless whispers that never cease, urging me to act on the darkest impulses. They’ve been with me for as long as I can remember, but they’ve grown louder since Luella left. They’re a constant noise, a torment that’s becoming harder to ignore.
I grip the phone tighter, my eyes locked on the screen as I watch Luella move through her apartment. The footage is crisp, detailed enough for me to see the way her hair catches the light, the slight curve of her lips as she gets ready for her evening. What is she going to do tonight? Curl up and read a book? Watch a movie? God, I want to be in there with her. She’s so fucking beautiful.
You’re pathetic, watching her like this.
The voice in my head taunts me, but I push it aside. I’m not pathetic. I’m protecting her. I have to. She’s mine to protect, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
She finishes getting ready and pulls on a coat. I perk up.
Another walk.
The door closes behind her with a soft click. I switch off the phone and tuck it into my pocket, making my way to the apartment building I’ve set up base in. It’s not far from hers, close enough that I can watch her without her knowing. Or so I thought. She’s too perceptive, too aware. She knows I’m close.
As I step inside my apartment, the familiar sterile environment wraps around me like a suffocating embrace. I switch on the laptop, the screens flickering to life. The feeds from the CCTV cameras, the café’s security system, even the shower—it’s all there, accessible at my fingertips. I can see her from every angle, know her every move. It’s a relief, a twisted form of comfort.
You’re a sick bastard, you know that? the voice sneers, but I ignore it, focusing on the screens. Luella is walking down the street, her steps measured, her shoulders tense. She’s always on guard, always aware. It makes me proud, but it also drives me mad with worry. She’s a beacon, drawing in the darkness, and I can’t let anyone hurt her again.
I lean back in the chair, my eyes never leaving the screen. The city streets are cast in the soft glow of streetlights, shadows playing off the buildings. It’s not safe for her to be out there alone, but I can’t stop her. She needs her freedom, her independence. I get that, even if it kills me to admit it.
The voices grow louder, a cacophony in my head. They demand, they taunt, they threaten. But I hold onto the only thing that matters—protecting Luella.
Luella turns a corner, and I lean forward, heart pounding as I track her movements. She’s heading towards the café she works at.
Coffee at this hour? No, she will opt for a hot chocolate.
I know my girl well.
It’s a small, quaint place, a beacon of warmth in the cold city night. I’ve been there, watched her serve coffee with a practiced smile, her eyes sparkling with a warmth that hides the shadows beneath.
She walks in, and the bell above the door chimes softly. The café is quiet, but she moves towards the counter with a wide smile for the man working behind it. I tense when his eyes light up. She shouldn’t be there without me. But I can’t deny her this small piece of normalcy, this attempt at a life she deserves.
Colton, you’re a coward , my father’s voice hisses. You can’t even protect what’s yours.
I clench my jaw, refusing to let his words sink in. I’m not a coward. I’m doing what I have to, keeping her safe even if she doesn’t want me near her. It’s a delicate balance, a fine line between obsession and protection. One I’m determined to walk.
The night progresses, and I watch her chat to the other customers, chat with regulars, her eyes never showing the strain, the fear that must be there. She’s strong, so strong. And I’m proud of her, even if it tears me apart to see her like this.
Eventually, she leaves and steps out into the night. I’m already moving, preparing to follow her, to keep her safe on her way home. But she doesn’t head straight home. Instead, she takes a detour, walking towards the park. My heart rate increases, a mix of anticipation and dread coursing through my veins. The park at night is not safe, but Luella isn’t one to be deterred by fear. She walks with purpose, her steps echoing in the still night.
I follow her, keeping a safe distance, my eyes scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. The park is deserted, the silence interrupted only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city. Luella finds her usual spot by the old fountain, sitting down on the edge, her reflection shimmering in the water.
She looks up at the sky, her breath visible in the cool air. She’s so fucking beautiful, silhouetted against the moonlight, her hair cascading down her back in waves. I want to go to her, to wrap my arms around her, to tell her that she’s not alone. But I stay hidden, watching, protecting.
Luella reaches into her pocket and pulls out something small. It’s a folded piece of paper. She unfolds it carefully, her eyes scanning the contents. I can’t see what’s written, but I know it’s something important. Her expression changes, a mix of sadness and determination flickering across her face.
What the fuck is that? the voice in my head growls, demanding to know what has her so captivated. I push it aside, focusing on Luella. She folds the paper back up and tucks it safely into her pocket. She stands up, her resolve strengthened, and starts walking back towards the path.
I follow her, my heart heavy with the weight of my obsession. I want to be the one she turns to, the one she trusts. But I know I can’t be that person yet. I have to earn her trust, prove to her that I’m not the monster she thinks I am. Even if I am a monster, I’m her monster.
Luella makes her way back to her apartment, her steps quick and determined. I keep pace, my eyes never leaving her. As she approaches her building, she pauses, her gaze flicking to the spot where I’ve left another black rose. She bends down, and picks it up, her fingers brushing gently against the petals. A small smile plays on her lips, and she looks around, her eyes scanning the shadows where I stand hidden. She knows it’s from me.
Go to her. Take her. Make her yours.
The voices in my head urge me forward, but I resist. I won’t take her like that, not again. I want her to come to me willingly, to choose me despite the darkness that surrounds us both.
Luella enters her apartment building, the door closing softly behind her. I wait a few moments before following, my footsteps silent on the stairs as I make my way to her floor. The hallway carries her familiar scent.
Delicious.
I approach her door, my heart pounding in my chest as I lean against it, listening for any sign of her presence. I hear the soft rustle of fabric, the quiet hum of her voice as she moves around inside. She’s so close, yet so far away.
Claim her. Make her yours.
The voices grow louder, more insistent. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to break down the door and take what I so desperately want. But I know that’s not the way. Not with her.
I step back, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I try to regain control. I can’t force her, can’t make her want me. I have to be patient, have to wait for her to come to me on her own terms.
But fuck, it’s hard. It’s so fucking hard when every fiber of my being screams for her, aches for her touch, her warmth, her love.
I turn away from the door.
As I make my way back to my own apartment, the voices in my head continue their relentless assault. They taunt me, mock me, urge me to give in to the darkness. But I hold onto the image of Luella, her strength, her defiance, her beauty. She is my light in the darkness, my hope in the chaos. And I will do whatever it takes to protect her, to earn her trust, to make her mine once again.