Seventeen
Oz
I closed the door softly, then did a once-over of the living room and kitchen. No candles left burning tonight. Relieved to see she had gone almost two weeks without that mistake, I made my way over to the pantry to check and see if she had opened the Goldfish box I’d left in there last night. She’d been sick this week and forgotten to run to the store and restock her favorite snack, so I had done it for her.
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth when I saw the box. Good girl. She was eating again.
Thursday, she hadn’t seemed to have much of an appetite yet. There had been no dirty dishes in the sink or dishwasher when I got here to check on things. Seemed her appetite had returned. That had been a nasty fucking virus. Kids were little germy shits.
Shifting my eyes toward her open bedroom door, I headed to her room, but stopped to peek in the bathroom first and make sure that the candle she kept by the bathtub hadn’t been left lit either. Although she had never forgotten that one. It was always the living room one she would leave lit. The small room was dark, but she had left a towel on the floor. Walking inside, I picked it up and hung it up neatly on the towel bar, spreading it out so that it would dry properly, like she normally did. It hadn’t only been a Friday for her, but a rough week.
The scent of her coconut-honey body wash filled the room. Fuck, that smelled good. I picked up the bottle and inhaled. She was getting low. If she didn’t get a new one in a few days, she was going to be out. I should check into where she got this. It looked expensive. Possibly the only splurge the woman did for herself. The rest of her things were minimalistic. Even her damn food. It was real hard not to go fill her refrigerator up the nights it was basically bare. But that would likely scare the shit out of her, so I refrained.
Stepping into her bedroom, I walked soundlessly over to the side of her bed to look at her. This had become my obsession, or perhaps it was an addiction—I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t meant to start this. Bringing her home, putting her in bed, and exiting her life had been my plan. But I’d made the mistake of standing here and watching her, like I was doing now. Peacefulness settled over me in the quiet as her wide, bowed lips slightly parted and her bare shoulder moved ever so gently with each breath she took. The elegant bone structure of her face and flawless complexion had all pulled me in. I had always enjoyed art, and she was a masterpiece. One that I needed to see every night.
After it had been clear I couldn’t stop this, I’d taken her key and had a copy made so I didn’t have to continue to break in. It was quieter this way. My fourth night here, she had left that damn candle burning in the living room. That shit scared me. What if I hadn’t come? What if she’d been caught in a fire? The idea of her not existing had struck me hard. So, that was my reasoning, my justification, for being here nightly. Someone needed to check on her. She’d been through a lot. Fucking bastard brother had put her emotions through a wringer.
I’d been ready to kill him, and I would have done so if Linc hadn’t stopped me. But after watching her, seeing the nights when her eyes appeared puffy, as if she’d gone to sleep crying, I was real fucking grateful to Blaise that he’d ordered I not kill the son of a bitch. That would have broken her, and I didn’t like to see beautiful things broken. In my head, she had become my beautiful thing.
It had been fourteen days since I’d stood over her to see swollen eyes. She was handling things better. Adjusting to this new life, where her brother was behind bars. I’d gone to Blaise and asked if he could make sure Perry was placed in the closest federal prison to Madison. She’d want to visit him, and I didn’t like the idea of her making a long drive. There was always the chance I might be in the middle of family business and not be able to follow her. If that day came though, I wouldn’t handle it well. I didn’t want her in a damn prison without me. Even if she didn’t know I was there.
Odd how things happened. I’d met her on a Monday at twelve forty-three p.m. She had been so damn nervous and cute. Smiling and blushing at me. It was something women often did around me. I rarely noticed it anymore. There were times I was so blind to it that one of the guys would tease me about some female and I hadn’t even realized she was checking me out or flirting. But this one hadn’t flirted. She’d been an awkward, adorable mess. Five nights later, at two fifty-seven a.m., I had laid her in this bed and not wanted to walk away. She didn’t know that, and at first, I had thought it was for the best, but I knew now that I was just giving her time to forgive me.
If there was one woman who I couldn’t charm with a simple smile, it would be her. She was the only woman I had ever abducted, locked up, starved, and choked…well, in that way. I mean, I had fucked some strippers who liked being choked while climaxing, but that wasn’t the same thing.
She was alone in the world with no one to protect her. Not that her brother had been capable of it. He might be a genius, but he was the size of a prepubescent boy.
There were bad men out there. Fucked-up sickos who would see her and want her. I knew myself how easy she was to take. I couldn’t chance that someone else would do the same. They would harm her, and I knew whatever shit had happened to me that night in the underground cellar with her brother—when he acted as if she wasn’t important and shouldn’t be cherished—would take over again. I’d never say it to anyone, but that feral, uncontrolled demon that seemed to be hidden inside me scared me. I didn’t like not being in control. I thrived on control, order, planning. That had not been planned.
If she ever got a look at the scars I’d left on Perry, then she’d likely come looking for me. Slap me, yell at me…
A smile spread across my face at the thought.
I ran the back of my finger over her cheekbone, then down to her chin. The almost, barely there cleft in it was my favorite, I had decided. While studying her at night, that tiny indention always drew me back to it. Some might think it was her only flaw to an otherwise perfect face, but they’d be idiots. This was the pinnacle of her perfection. The icing on the cake. The need to press my lips to it, trace it with my tongue, grew with each passing night that I stood here.
Her brows drew together in her sleep, and she made one of her sounds, telling me she was lost in whatever she was dreaming about. Whatever it was it had better be sweet. I might have to take on her fucking nightmares and slay them, too, if they haunted her.
I stepped back to stop myself from touching her further. She was taken care of and safe.
I needed to go, but first one more thing. I picked up her phone and tapped in the passcode, which she hadn’t changed since I’d given it back to her. I went to her messages and read through the new ones today. Granted, this was an invasion of privacy, but if I was going to take care of her, I needed to know what people she talked to. If anyone had upset her. What her plans were. If she was going on a trip, I had to be prepared so I could follow.
There was her morning text to Marley with a, Good morning! Kick ass and take names today .
I smirked. She always sent the woman something similar around seven on the weekdays and a little after eight on the weekends.
Marley would respond with a, Good morning! Then tell her what she was doing that day.
Marley had sent another one at noon, but it wasn’t any topic that concerned me since Winslet wasn’t involved.
The teachers group text was alive and kicking again. I was often tempted to pay a visit to this Anya bitch in the group. From what I’d learned via reading her texts, she was a fifth-grade teacher who thought she was in charge. She was also jealous of Winslet. That shit came through loud and clear.
I’d gone as far as looking up the staff on the school’s website to see what she looked like. Before Winslet had started working there, Anya had been the hottest teacher there.
Women and their need to be the prettiest girl in the room seemed to get the ones who were just attractive enough to stand out. Some were much worse than others. This one was the president of that club.
She was always handing out jobs and telling the others what to do as if they were her minions, then adding a smiley face or pink heart to it, as if that made it all better. Anya made sure Winslet had the worst jobs, the ones no one else wanted. The others called Winslet a godsend when she would not only agree, but do whatever the bitch had told her to do to the best of her ability. She was complimented and praised, which only made Anya more agitated. She would agree with a damn emoji of some sort, then list at least three things that could have been done better that she knew Winslet hadn’t meant to overlook.
I had already given her new, shiny silver Mini Cooper a flat tire, which had been slashed and would require she buy a new tire, not just patch it. Seemed I needed to leave a long, jagged scratch down it this weekend.
Meg, Holly, and Mary Beth—other teachers at the school—had all sent her separate texts, saying to ignore Anya, that she was a perfectionist, a type A personality.
Then, there had been Meg’s text, which I agreed with. She’s jealous of you. Shake it off. You rocked that book fair display. It had never looked so good.
Finally, there was fucking Toby, who I liked about as much as I did Anya, although I hadn’t slashed his tires…yet. He’d sent one text this afternoon and three more this evening, which she had ignored. Not even read them. That was one reason I’d left him alone; she wasn’t going to give him the time of day. He was shooting so far out of his league with her.
Toby
Really looking forward to tomorrow. I’ll stop and get us some breakfast sandwiches and coffee on my way to pick you up.
Okay, what? I reread that to make sure I had read it correctly. I had.
Toby
Any preferences? Bacon, egg, and cheese? Sausage? Do you like bagel sandwiches?
He was bringing her breakfast. She was letting him. I’d missed something today.
What have you agreed to, darlin’?
Toby
Or would you rather have something sweet? I can get doughnuts or muffins.
Stop being so fucking desperate. She didn’t even respond to your last text. And she loves chocolate at any time. Why don’t you know that, stalker boy?
Toby
I’ll just grab some of everything, and you can choose. You’re probably asleep already. When you get these though, let me know how you like your coffee. We can eat lunch at the festival. I heard that they’re having two new food vendors this year. One has cheeseburger egg rolls. Sounds like a must-try.
She drinks it with a yellow packet of that Splenda crap—which I wish she’d stop using because that shit is poison—and two creams, dumbass.
He wasn’t paying enough attention to know what she liked, but then he was pursuing her so damn hard that he didn’t have time for anything else.
Looks like I have a festival to attend tomorrow.
Madison wasn’t that big. I should be able to figure out what festival this was.
I made sure the texts were marked as unread, then did a quick check to see who she’d spoken to on the phone. Marley, around the time she had gotten home from work. A missed call from Toby. Yeah, he had passed the annoying part and walked right into being on my shit list. I turned off her phone and put it back in the same place it had been, then gave myself a few more minutes of simply watching her.