5. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Noah
I don’t know who the fuck she thinks she is, but there’s no chance in hell that request will be honored.
She is mine. And she will submit to me, one way or the other.
I head to my cabin, unlocking the door and stepping inside. My work phone buzzes.
Dana.
Releasing a huff of irritation, I silence the damn thing and throw it on the table before heading to my office. Opening the door, I’m greeted with photos of Cassidy. My eyes roam them all before settling on my new favorite one.
Her just getting out of the shower.
Naked.
Dripping wet.
I want her.
I want her so badly it’s burning inside my veins. There has to be a way to help speed this process of denial. More roses would be cliché. Her diary said she likes big gestures, feeling wanted, cherished.
Big gestures… I finally settle on my plan. Sitting at my chair, I turn on my computer, and the password screen blinks at me. As soon as I type it in, his face is staring back at me from my earlier searches. I track his movements with no real purpose other than to ensure he’s staying in his lane.
Stuart .
Maybe if I take care of the problem, she will loosen up. That should be a big enough gift. One she will never forget. One she will treasure.
Obsession grips me as I tunnel into his life, dissecting his life with a fine-tooth comb. I’ve been over all of this before, but this time, I have a purpose. Socials. Emails. Work calendar. Busy guy. I know where he is every goddamn minute of the day, and with his address in my hands, I grin. I can make sure he’s never busy again.
A dirt nap, if you will.
The images on the walls surround me like a shrine, feeding the fire that Cassidy’s rejection has lit inside me. She doesn’t know what she needs—who she needs—and it infuriates me that she’s playing so hard to get. While I do enjoy some struggle, some resistance, she should be putty in my hands by now. Though, to be fair, it’s been a year of watching her and she’s only had two days to come around. She does need time, but the time she gets will be spent with me in her space. Every moment of her time will be consumed by me. Clicking over to my security cameras, I switch to the feed in her room.
She’s laying on the bed, a book in her hand, her legs open as her other hand disappears inside her pants.
Naughty girl reading those books again.
It’s almost too much to watch, knowing that her cheeks are flushed, and her breath is heavy as she plays with that perfect pussy. I flick the audio on, hear her breathy moans, and nearly lose my mind.
Five days? She’ll be begging for me by tomorrow judging by the display on my screen.
Her eyes flutter shut as she puts her book down, pushing her pants down to her knees to get better access. I lean back, unzipping my jeans and pulling my cock out.
It’s already leaking precum.
I stroke it slowly, matching her rhythm as she writhes on the bed.
The sound of her moans fills the cabin, driving me closer to madness. She doesn't know she's doing this for me. I’ve watched her like this a hundred times. One day she will do it right in front of me. I’ll tell her how I’ve jerked off to her more times than I can count. She’ll finally know, and she’ll love it.
I close my eyes, and it’s like I’m there with her—on top of her, inside her. She cries my name, and I freeze when I hear it, but her hand keeps moving quickly before stilling, her legs starting to tremble as she grabs her breast, pulling on her nipple.
“Fuck,” I groan, pumping faster as I imagine tearing those pants off her completely. My release crashes through me, spilling over my hand as I watch her pull her pants up, a smile on her face.
She said my name. She’s masturbating to me.
Grabbing some tissues, I wipe my come off my skin and smile. Such a perfect princess. Soon, it’ll be me between those legs, her thighs clenched around my face as she fucks into my mouth.
I shut the computer down and lean back, closing my eyes. Fantasies of her fill my mind. Debating with herself before finally giving in. Those blue eyes, wide in surrender . Pulled to me by the same force she’s trying to deny. Time seems so inconsequential when I know just how badly I need her. I’ll need to move faster if I want to tame the urges rising inside me.
She must be mine before I snap.
The thought of her giving in to her desire for me calms my nerves, but a sudden knock at the door shatters the peace.
“Noah?” Dana’s voice is clipped, strained. Annoying as hell.
I open the door, and she stands there, arms crossed, and brow arched like she owns the place. “You’ve been dodging my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy stalking our new guest?”
My look shuts her up for now. “You know nothing, Dana.”
She scoffs but follows me inside anyway. “We’ll see how long this one lasts before you scare her away.”
“It’s different with Cassidy.” Saying her name steadies me again. It annoys me that Dana had put the pieces together with Alannah, but I kept her around because she kept her trap shut and did her work. She was also a semi-decent fuck for when my hand just wasn’t cutting it.
Though, to be fair, I stopped sticking my cock in her the minute I found Cassidy, so I can see why she is pissy.
“Right. Don’t think I don’t notice the way you watch her.” Dana snaps. She’s jealous. Angry. She’s not the object of my obsession and she knows it.
I don’t really give a fuck. She knows better than to say anything. A woman disappeared around these parts a couple of years back and I’d have no problems making sure she does too.
“Did you need something else?” I ask, barely hiding my impatience.
“Yes. A group wants to go for a hike and Mike is injured.”
“Too bad. I’m going into town today. Got some business to take care of.” I say, leaning against the wall.
“Seriously?” She huffs, like I don’t own the fucking place and need to answer to her.
The words rip from me before I can stop them. "I’m not your fucking employee, Dana. My hours are my own. I don’t owe you a damn thing."
She studies me, her eyes narrowing. “What’s in town?”
I grin, enjoying her discomfort. “The usual.”
She rolls her eyes and storms out, leaving me alone with Cassidy's image burned into my brain. I glance at the pictures through my open door again, then grab a small bag from the corner. My mind races with possibilities as I head out to the truck.
The drive down the mountain is a blur. The road twists through dense forest, my thoughts twisted around one thing. One person. Stuart's address flashes in my mind. He’ll be the last fucking obstacle between me and her. The sacrifice needed to show her how much I love her.
I hit town and pull into a gas station, checking the address one more time. It’s close—closer than I expected. Checking my watch, I smile to myself. Back by nightfall if I play this right.
Slipping back into the truck, I let my mind wander to Cassidy again. Her soft whimpers. Her legs spread wide, waiting for me to fill them.
Stuart has no idea what’s coming for him. He deserves this death, if for nothing else but being a pathetic, spineless excuse of a man and taking the bait. He failed the test and took that blonde to his house when he could have said no and gone home to the most beautiful woman alive.
But he didn’t. Because he’s weak. It’s irrelevant that I had picked out exactly his type. She only cost me a few hundred and a Vera Wang dress to agree to my plan. She’s still with him, so she’s welcome for the introduction, I guess.
I roll past the restaurant he’s currently in and park far enough away that no one will notice me watching. Taking out my phone, I scroll to his schedule—corporate dinner, 8 PM—and decide to wait him out.
There's a bar across the street, and I slip inside for a drink to pass the time. Buzzed suits chatter around me, oblivious to everything except their sad little money-hungry lives.
I almost feel sorry for them. Almost. They don’t know what life is like outside of this cesspool. Probably never seen the sun rise over the mountain with the ocean crashing below, little bits of sea foam spraying you in the face. The moment of pity passes when I remember who’s waiting for me, what I’m going back to. She is saveable.
I nurse my drink, watching the minutes tick by until I see him. Wearing some cheap imitation suit that’s baggy in the shoulders. He looks pale, weathered, his sandy hair greasy and slicked back. It’s as if he stopped giving a fuck the way his face is blotchy, and his beard is growing in uneven patterns. Yet there he is, swagger in his step. Walking out of the building like he doesn’t have a fucking care in the world. He’s alone, checking his watch before pulling out his phone. A cab pulls up to the curb, and he slides in with all the confidence of a man who doesn’t know his life is about to change.
I throw some coins on the bar table and head to my truck.
The cab heads uptown, and I hang back just far enough to stay invisible. Traffic’s heavy, but it works to my advantage. Stuart’s not going anywhere fast. My mind drifts back to Cassidy with each stoplight, fueling the fire inside me.
Finally, the cab stops in front of an apartment complex. Must be his girlfriends. I park across the street, paying the parking meter a quarter, watching him go inside before slipping on a hat and heading after him.
He heads straight to the bar on the first floor and the tall, leggy blonde greets him like the sun shines out his ass. I had picked her because she’s pretty enough. Long blonde hair that falls in perfect waves with bright green eyes. Curvy with big tits. Dresses like she comes from money, but I know she doesn’t. She was desperate when I approached her about trying to seduce Stuart, after having just lost her job as a receptionist in one of my father’s companies.
She had run her fingers across my chest, thinking I was spoiling her because I wanted to take her out. It had been a struggle to contain my utter repulsion at being touched by her, but I’d smiled and offered her money and the dress. She was disappointed, but did what she was supposed to. Clearly.
I wait until they’re well into their second round before approaching the bar, keeping an ear on their conversation without drawing attention to myself.
Stuart’s laugh carries across the room, grating on my nerves with every damn word.
“…she was crazy,” he’s telling her, shaking his head like it’s all one big joke.
Anger surges through me, but I keep my head, settling into a booth across from them, listening to them making fun of my girl. The waitress comes by, and I order another drink, biding my time. From what I’ve researched, he never stays the night at her place. He always goes home. That’s when I’ll nab him and play with him a bit.
After all, it’s the least he deserves after cheating on a dime with a piece of trash that’s only with him because she can’t afford rent without his weekly allowance to her. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was more of a sugar baby arrangement than a relationship, but I don’t care enough to dwell any longer on their status.
I just want to watch Stuart bleed.
The two of them finally leave the bar, and I follow at a safe distance. She stops at the elevator and whines, asking him to come up while he shakes his head no. He kisses her goodbye before heading out the lobby door, as fucking smug as ever, before turning toward home. His building is only a couple of blocks from here. A ten-minute walk on a good day. But today isn’t a good day. For him.
His hands are in his pockets, and he skips across the street like a damn fool.
I wait until he’s a block ahead before stepping out of the shadows. He’s finally in front of his building, buzzing himself in and I slip inside. Up the elevator, left, right and then there it is. Apartment 24C.
He's just opening his door when he hears me. Turns around, confused. “Who the fuck are you? What the hell—”
He doesn’t get to finish. My fist connects with his jaw, and he staggers back against the wall.
“What’d you think was gonna happen?” I snarl. “After what you did?”
“I didn’t—” He chokes on it as I drive him inside, slamming his back against the hallway mirror.
“Thought you were safe? Thought you wouldn’t pay for hurting her?” My hand finds my pocket and I flick out my butterfly knife, licking down the blade before pointing it at him. “Cassidy. Or did you forget her name already?”
His eyes widen, fear finally sinking in. “You’re insane!”
I laugh at that, pushing him through to the living room, kicking the door shut behind me, closing my knife and pocketing it. “Maybe.” The place is neat, like a show apartment. Completely empty of anything real or personal. Scanning the room, I notice something. In the corner, on a side table beside the couch is a small photo of Cassidy. Walking closer, I see what the subject matter is and fury rolls through me. He shouldn’t have this. She’s naked, spread out on a bed, smiling up at the camera. Next to it is a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. Like some weird pervert’s masturbation centerpiece.
My hands ball into fists and I head straight for him before sucker punching him in his perfectly punchable face. A crunch underneath my hand and his nose is bleeding, dripping down his ugly suit and onto the floor.
Fuck this prick.
He tries to bolt but he’s slow as fuck. I wrestle him down to the floor. The carpet muffles most of his struggles, but not all—the bastard manages to get out one single scream before I gag him with his own damn tie.
“You’re gonna wish you never met her,” I hiss into his ear, and I grab him, wrenching him onto his stomach, grabbing his wrists and pinning him there.
He thrashes, trying to get me off, but he’s got no strength. Reaching into my pocket, I grab the zip ties I have. The moment his left hand is tied to his right, the fight goes out of him. Slamming his head on the floor, I get off his back and stand.
My feet are heavy as I drag him to the bathroom, pushing and pulling him until he’s in the tub. “Comfortable?” I ask, grabbing my knife again from my back pocket. His eyes go wide again, and he shakes his head furiously.
I crouch low, the tip of the blade glinting between us. “You know how long it will take to undo the damage you caused her?” I ask, voice low and dangerous. “Weeks. Time I don’t want to spend cleaning up another mans mess, but I will. Do you know why?”
He shakes his head vigorously.
“Because she’s worth the trouble.”
His breath comes in ragged bursts through his nose as he struggles to speak around the gag.
“All because you couldn’t handle a woman like Cassidy. So, you fucking broke her instead.”
He’s whimpering now, shaking uncontrollably as I draw my blade along the edge of his cheek.
“Please…” he manages when I pull out the gag for a second.
Blood wells up, spilling down his face and soaking into his starched collar. “Please,” he tries again.
I pause before shoving the tie back into his mouth.
Suddenly, I have a better idea. Reaching down, I unzip his pants and wrestle them off, his putrid cock laying flaccid against his bladder.
“Wow. Tiny dick too. I have no idea how you’ve managed to bag yet another woman with that thing, but you’ll never touch it to the thought of my girl ever again.”
His face loses all color as I trail the knife gently over the tip and back down. Then I push down. The sound of his muffled scream is beautiful. I start sawing, hacking at his pathetic little manhood. It disgusts me that I have to touch it to get this done, but it’s such a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.
Blood pools dark and wide around him, and I pull back like an artist finishing his masterpiece. His eyes are glassy now, the pain sinking him into shock. Once he finally passes out, I clean myself as best I can. If he ever wakes up, I want him to have a little memory of me, besides his missing cock of course. Walking away and leaving him tied in the tub, I find some paper and a pen, writing him a love note before tucking the pen into my pocket as a memento. I head back into the bathroom and push the note into his pocket: "She’s mine."
I highly doubt he will ever see it. If, by some miracle, he finds the will to survive being a dickless, spineless freak, it will take weeks to heal physically. If that happens, he's never going to mentally recover from this.
And if he ever does, I'll know.
But chances are slim judging from the steady stream of blood spurting from his body. He groans and the sound makes me smile. What a lovely way to end an otherwise irritating day.
I grab a towel and wrap my gift inside it, admiring how it shrunk almost into a ball and then I shove it in my pants pocket. She’s going to love this . Before heading out, I wash my hands again and take off my blood-stained shirt, putting it in the oven and turning it on. I grab a plain white t-shirt from his drawers and slide it over my head, making sure to wipe my prints as I touch things. Not that it’ll matter. With any luck the place will burn down before the neighbors call the fire department.
I head towards the front door before pausing. That photo taunts me. Before I know it, I’m grabbing it and shoving it into my pocket. She’s mine. The thought of him touching his cock to her is enough to make me want to go back into the bathroom and finish the job, but I don’t. I’m kind enough to let nature take its course. If he’s meant to live, he will.
And then he will be in constant fear of my return and quite frankly that sends a ripple of excitement through me.
As I slip out the door, I hear the faint crackle of fire as the oven catches my shirt before closing it behind me. With any luck I’ll see an obituary in a few days.
The thought fuels me as I make my way to the elevator, down to the lobby and out into the night. The streets are slick from rain. All around, people rush past with umbrellas and hoods pulled up, not noticing me at all. Like every time I come into the city. No one ever stops here for a friendly hello.
I’m halfway back to my truck when my phone buzzes with a security alert. She’s back in her room, on the phone. Mild irritation courses through me. I’m out here, taking care of her problems, and instead of relaxing, she’s working.
That’s okay. I will teach her how to enjoy life the simple way.
Three hours later, I’m pulling up to Pine Ridge in my truck. It’s well past midnight, but there’s still a faint glow from the main lodge windows. Her cabin is dark, just as expected. She thinks she needs time away from everything. From everyone.
From me.
But she doesn’t need to be alone, and she doesn’t need to rest and relax. She needs a permanent life change. I park by my cabin and take my gift with me, tucked neatly inside its towel.
As I slip into the trees, it starts to rain again—a gentle patter that turns into a steady downpour by the time I’ve reached the edge of her clearing. Her cabin is quiet, and I struggle not to let myself in and take what I want from her.
I will soon. If she doesn’t relent.
I duck onto her porch and leave my surprise wrapped on the doorstep before retreating into shadows.
She’ll find it in the morning.
A giddy feeling travels up my spine.
I hope she likes it.