Page 5

Chapter five

Damien

‘The Dark of You’ – Breaking Benjamin

Six Days Later

Carter gave me her first name. Ashia. Fuck, just imagining groaning out her name makes my cock hard . I was able to find her last name and address that evening last week, and just my luck, she lives directly over where she works in a small apartment. Across the side alley way from the barber shop is another building with shops at the bottom and apartments on the top. I called the property manager and demanded that I rent out the open unit directly across from hers. Unknown to him, so I can watch her as intensely as I want to. The property manager, Jeff, refused. Said he had other offers to consider, even though I offered twice the monthly rent.

So, I bought the whole fucking building instead. Nothing is going to keep me from my girl. Definitely not some plain, money hungry, garbage named Jeff. I was finally able to get into the apartment after getting the keys from the realtor an hour ago. Right before I fired Jeff for not accepting my rental offer.

Melanie called me this morning after my payment went through and gave me a good hour-long bitch session about giving up my house, and blah, blah, blah. After that hour, and she shut up long enough, I was able to tell her that I wasn’t giving up my house, and that I actually bought the building to be close to a girl I met. She stopped bitching quickly after that, but only to start back up about how ridiculous it is to spend that kind of money just to be near a girl I don’t know.

I would’ve paid twice the amount, but I didn’t tell Mel that.

The fact that the small coffee shop on the bottom floor of the building brings in good money settled her nerves slightly, since now the owner of the coffee shop has to pay me rent every month, not to mention the three other tenants in the apartments. Not that I’m near hurting for money, but as my financial advisor and accountant, Mel likes to judge my spending habits.

She’s about to see a lot of questionable shit. I’m surprised she hasn’t questioned the florist purchases, wondering if it was fraud.

I can see where she’s coming from. I know my actions and feelings are strange, and over the top, but I can’t help it. Shoving these impulses down is not an option for me. This girl is different. One look is all it took, and it was like I’d known her my whole life. I’ve come by and stolen every look I could get since then, and each time I see her it’s like the first. She stalls my breath, stealing it from me, and makes my heart race; I have to see her more. She’s my addiction, and if I go too long without looking into her bronze eyes I might start shaking uncontrollably.

I’ve watched her every night and left her a flower the following morning. I figured black flowers would be her favorite, since they look so rough on the outside, but smell so sweet on the inside. And every morning I watch her interest in the ‘admirer’ grow. That's not all I am, but I'll definitely be admiring her when I'm watching my cock fuck her again and again.

The last tenant left their furniture behind, so all I had to bring over was a change of clothes, a few towels, bathroom essentials, and my laptop. I’ll stay here as long as it takes. I plan on finding out every detail of this girl and I’ll do what needs to be done to find it.

I’m not above invasion of privacy. Obviously. There is no stone that I will leave unturned when it comes to my woman. Medical history? I’ll hack it. Debts? Consider it paid. Hell, she has a splinter in her finger? I’ll fucking find out and burn the piece of wood that gave it to her. I’m going to examine her under a microscope. It’s essential that I’m fully prepared for her. Anything she could throw at me? I’ll be ready to catch it.

She got off work about thirty minutes ago, and she immediately started her normal routine of making dinner and eating alone, or so she thought alone. I went ahead and took the opportunity to eat the food I packed with her. I’ll give her the illusion that nothing has changed for her. For now, because when I finally introduce myself, her life will never be the same again.

Looking up from my laptop to see her, she looks like she’s leaving. Grabbing her keys and sliding her black Vans on. Fuck. Where is she going? I spring up from the desk chair, grab my keys and my hoodie, and walk out the door. Almost tripping and tumbling down the stairs in the effort to catch up to her. That’d be something, wouldn’t it? Meeting her for the first time with a damn cast on my arm or something.

I make it down to the street just in time to see her walk out onto the sidewalk and start making her way down the street. She isn’t necessarily walking with a purpose, but she looks so fucking beautiful when she thinks no one is watching. Her long, straight black hair sways in the same rhythm of her ass as she walks, and in between her paranoid glances of her surroundings, she looks to the sky. Breezes of comfort wash over her face as she takes in every sense nature has to offer. The colors of the sun starting to set, the scent of flowers blooming and cut grass, the sound of the breeze grazing past her ears. I watch her lungs inflate intimately with these senses. She’s desperate to find some comfort tonight, and she’s gone out seeking it. What does a girl like her search for in solace?

I follow behind her, maybe twenty or thirty feet, to avoid detection as she walks into Elmwood Park. A large, open park on the edge of downtown filled with playgrounds and open fields. It’s all connected to small walkways and a large walking trail paved by the city called the Greenway.

She stops for a moment and overlooks the park. Watching kids play on the large green lawn. These kids couldn’t be more than seven years old and are clearly a part of a field trip or day care outing, though there are not nearly enough teachers for all of these children. Maybe three adults for about thirty kids? Is that what she noticed? The lack of supervision?

No. She wouldn’t grin at the children’s laughter like she is if she was upset. Her adoring eyes are beaming looking at them, almost as if she wants to reach out and play alongside them. She’s focusing on one group of kids in particular, five of them, two boys and three girls. Skipping around each other, and one looks like she’s waving a stick around.

The wind picks up, and I watch as Ashia jumps to catch something flying in the wind. What is that? Construction paper? One of the little girls in the group runs up to her and starts talking to her before Ashia reaches to the top of the girl’s head with the paper and places it around. I see, it’s a princess crown the girl was wearing. Must have flown away in the breeze.

Ashia then grazes the girl’s hair with her hands, pats her on the shoulder, and watches her run off. The tenseness in her body almost completely evaporating as I see the corners of her mouth shift upward into a grin. Mental note: she really likes kids.

When I stopped by two nights ago to watch her through the window at the shop, she had a little boy in her chair. Probably about four or five, and she was making this big show while she cut his hair. He was just giggling away while she cut a piece of his hair, and then she made the hair rain down around him by wiggling her fingers between the cut strands. She’s so sweet. So caring. How could someone have such a hardened exterior, but be so soft on the inside? I plan to chisel my way in piece by piece.

Before I can finish that thought she takes off walking again, and it’s not long before she makes it to the Greenway. I expected her to walk either left or right and walk down the pathway, but to my surprise, she doesn’t. She climbs over the short fencing perfectly, as if she’s had to do those motions a hundred times, and begins making her way into the trees. I follow her still, keeping enough distance to still see her, but to help her if she gets hurt. There’s nothing but untamed brush, weeds, poison oak, and overgrown trees past the Greenway, what is she doing out here?

I’m sure to keep my steps methodical and quiet. My feet bracing each step for a twig or rock that could possibly make noise. The brush is thick, and the branches on the trees are no different. She glides through them with an ease and gentleness I can’t place. It’s as if she’s afraid of hurting the trees, or perhaps she’s more in her natural element out here in the vast foliage.

As I duck under a low hanging branch, I lose sight of her, and my heart plummets to my feet. Where did she go? Did she fall? Is she hurt? I run ahead and off to the left, thinking maybe she just went another direction, but I don’t see her. My senses are now sharpened, hoping to pick up any sign of her. Any noise, smell, image, but nothing.

I keep going further into the trees, and I almost resort to calling out to her when my ears pick up soft music. Following the sound, keeping my steps light but my mind sharp, she slowly comes back into view. She’s sitting on the ledge of a small cliff, looking down over the river. Her feet are dangling over the edge, and she’s leaning back on her hands. Swift yet fluid movements from her legs sway her body slightly, and the long sleek strands of her hair fall backward with her head as she rolls her head from side to side.

I walk around to the left, the opposite way on how she must have gotten there, so I can get a better view of her. She’s watching the sky again, taking deep breaths, slowly moving her head to the slow beat of the music. and her eyebrows are scrunched like she’s thinking about something.

‘The Dark of You’ by Breaking Benjamin plays from the speaker in her phone, and that’s the second rock song I’ve heard her play. That’s one thing we have in common, and I’m sure there will be more. She clearly feels music intensely, taking in every lyric as a life story. Her breaths even out to match the flow of the music, and just before the song picks up, it pauses. I scrunch my brows in confusion, and slight irritation. Please don’t tell me my girl came out here with a dying cellphone.

My worry dissolves as she sighs heavily and picks up the phone from the ledge beside her, holding it in front of her face to reveal a phone call coming through. That sweet grin returns to her mouth before she answers the call, and that both has me relieved and jealous. Who is she smiling at like that? All I need is a name, and I’ll find that mother fucker.

“Hey Serena….” My angel speaks, and I’m immediately disappointed that I can’t kill this one. “Yeah, no, sorry. I went for a walk… My cliff spot is not creepy, I’m about to regret sharing my location with you… I’m fine… No, I’m not thinking of Cooper…” Who the fuck is Cooper? “Someone’s been leaving me flowers and notes on my doorstep every day for a week… I don’t know who, Ser… Please, if Cooper sent me a note, it’d be a death threat, not cute little love notes…” A death threat? Who the fuck is this Cooper!?

I don’t care if I have to track down every man in the country with the name Cooper, I will find him. I imagine I won’t have to search very hard with my skills, but why the fuck would anyone want to harm her? Well, I know one thing, he won’t get the fucking chance.

“Because, Ser, what if this guy is like Cooper. Or worse?... Maybe I don’t want to know who it is… You forget, I work with men all day long, none of them really inspire confidence… I’m not living in fear… I call it living with caution…” She laughs slightly. It sounds like this guy really did a number on her. Is he still alive? Well, if so, that’s going to have to change. “Yes, if it gets weird, I’ll call you… I’m going to go home soon; it just feels nice out tonight… Yes, Ser, I’m fine… I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?... Love you too, bye.” She lets out another long sigh and stares out into the water again, but only for a moment before pocketing her phone and standing up to leave.

That really pisses me off. She just wanted some fucking peace, and this friend gave her shit for it? What kind of friend does that? She’s not in danger by being out here, especially with me watching her, and she’s not a child that needs permission to do anything. I need to research this friend too. Every aspect of her life is now my business. No detail is too small. Including overbearing and commanding friends. The only person allowed to command my woman is me, and I have a feeling this friend is going to have a problem with that.

We’re walking back through the park, and she doesn’t look nearly as content as she did walking earlier. Her shoulders droop slightly, and she doesn’t bother to look out into the park. It’s almost as if she’s too lost in her mind to care anymore. To my surprise, she does look to the side as she senses people, eyeing warily at her surroundings when she passes a group of guys hanging out on a park bench.

The tallest, and I'm guessing the dominant of the group, watches intensely as she passes. I can tell the moment their eyes meet, because she looks ahead sharply, and moves closer to the other side of the sidewalk. He wickedly grins at his buddies, showing his darkened yellow teeth and loosens his stance, as if he’s mentally preparing for a good time. He starts to walk after her. Leaving his friends behind and out of sight, not bothering to keep a good distance, and I instantly feel my body temperature rise as I clench my jaw in anger.

Oh. Fuck. No.

Not my girl.

I quickly walk up behind him, and this dumb mother fucker is so set on her that he can’t hear me approach him. Watching him intensely, I see as he reaches into his jean pocket, ever so slightly pulls a knife handle out and looks at it, then puts it back in his pocket. Not removing his hand. I watch as if his body tenses, and he slowly pulls the muscles in his neck to the side, cracking his spine, as if he’s trying to loosen up for something.

My blood begins to boil, and I quicken my pace. My mind is racing with all of the things he could be thinking of doing to her. Would he just try to scare her? Does he think she’d have something he’d want? Or, the reason my mind immediately goes to, is that he wants to hurt her…maybe even kill her. Absolutely fucking not. No one touches what’s mine!

I quickly plan my attack, and the moment we pass an alleyway, I grab around his throat with one hand, and his mouth with the other, shoving him into the alley. I release my hold once he’s out of sight from the public, and he stumbles at the force of my push, almost tumbling over. He stands straight and twirls around angrily, staring at me with bloodshot eyes.

“Fuck is your problem, man!” I swing, my right fist hitting him in the jaw, and he fumbles, but stands up straight and swings back. My movements are swift from years of practice and training, and his face hardens as he misses me. Using the momentum from his punch, I grab his wrist, twisting it behind him, and yank back, dislocating his shoulder. He screams out in pain as I plant the sole of my foot into his back. Sending him flying into the brick wall.

He scrambles, trying to stand again, so, to be generous, I help him by grabbing his shirt in my fists and raising him up. Shoving my trembling, enraged face into his. Making sure that the heat and hellfire of my breath can be felt on his disgusting skin.

“ Mine!” I say shakily, even slightly scaring myself with the harsh tone in my voice. I shouldn’t kill him here. There are too many possible witnesses, his friends, and with it only being almost eight in the evening, it’d be hard to hide the act until a clean-up crew could get here. “She is fucking mine, and you'll do well to never look in her direction again.”

“Alright man! Fuck! I get it!” He yells as I drop him and he scrambles, holding his shoulder as he attempts to run off. Though as he goes to turn back onto the sidewalk, I see him glancing in the direction that she was walking. As if I could read his mind, I know what he’s thinking. Find out where she lives and get back at me for hurting him. I don’t fucking think so.

Something snaps in me. Something I can’t control, and that makes me feel even more manic than I already do. I’m always in control. Always planning things out to the last detail, but not this time. I reach out again, grabbing him by the back of his shirt, and dragging him back into the alleyway. Unsheathing my own knife, I swiftly graze the sharp edge of my blade across his throat in one move as the momentum takes him backwards.

By the time I slowly turn around to face him again, he’s reaching up and grabbing his throat. As if that will actually help him. I’ve severed his carotid artery. Nothing could save him now. Taking slow, menacing steps, I walk up to him. His eyes now wide, and the globes themselves trembling under my presence. The stare boring into me as if he’ll see God in my gaze. He will find nothing of the sort in me, and whatever awaits him in hell is almost as satisfying as killing him.

I press the tip of my blade to his forehead and lightly push forward. The action sending this repulsive sack of diseased meat to his back. His body starts convulsing as his grip loosens, allowing the blood to flow freely from his throat. In a matter of seconds, his body becomes completely limp, and I watch as whatever light was there leaves his eyes.

Inhaling the fresh iron in the air acts like an inhaler. Demanding the muscles in my lungs to relax and work naturally. The tension rolls off and down my body as if I was bathing in it, allowing the anger and worry to melt away, leaving only the need to see her running through my veins. I take a moment, inhaling deep breaths to contain myself before I use my cell to dispatch a cleanup crew and continue walking, determined to catch up to my girl.

I quicken my pace, and I approach her in enough time to watch her reach Cut Me Down. As she reaches the door, she takes a quick, scared look around to make sure the man isn’t following her, and then she enters. As I walk past the entrance to the building, I see through the glass to see that she’s practically running up the stairs. I want to run to her and tell her that everything is all right. That the scary man won’t be able to hurt her anymore, but I stop myself, remembering that she hasn’t actually met me yet.

And that pisses me off more.

I heavily storm up to my own apartment next door, slamming the door behind me, and I can’t help but pace the living room. My whole body begins to move, trying to shake the agitating, tingling feeling that has washed over me. What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t feel this way. I know that. I hear the voices in my head screaming that this is wrong. How irrational it is, but she’s so fucking captivating. Hypnotizing. She’s yanking my heart out of my chest, twisting my brain until anything but her is drained from it, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I slam my fists into the desk to try and relieve some of this aggression. Passion. I’ve never felt this way for someone, and I don’t even know her. What the fuck is wrong with me? I look up through the window to see her in her bedroom. The last light streaming in through her window and shining over that gorgeous face. So soft. Gracious.

My eyes zone in on her as she takes off her top, showing me her bare back as she unclasps her bra and throws it into the laundry basket. Her skin looks just as smooth from here, and I run the pads of my fingers down the windowpane as if I could reach out and touch her. She looks so delicate. Innocent. Gentle. Something just begging to be ruined.

I feel a heat rush through my body as she begins to unbutton her jeans and slide them down along with her black panties, revealing her round, firm ass. My cock strains against my pants and I attempt to adjust myself without losing control and tugging on it like a horny teenager.

She quickly pulls on a small, cropped tank top and a pair of sweatpants, and as she turns around to her bed, showing off her tight, pierced stomach, I see her hardened nipples poke through the thin material. My dick throbs, and I know the moment she falls asleep I’m going take a shower and pleasure myself to the thought of her.

Sitting down on top of the bed, she curls into her pillows and turns on a movie. The new lights from the tv illuminate the room as ‘Halloween’ flashes on the screen and I look back to her. Her soft blanket is now draped around her as she sits on top of her comforter, and I watch as she lays down and pulls the blanket in close, her hands tightly fisting the material, as if she feels ashamed for putting on comfortable clothing while being alone in her apartment. After a few minutes of the movie, her face calms, but not completely. The worried look still plastered onto her face. What happened to her to keep herself so concealed? So scared? The thoughts bring me back to my main objective of finding out everything I can about my gorgeous mystery.

I march back over to the desk, turn on my laptop, and begin working. Navigating to the Police Department database, I find my way in through their supposedly secure server and look up her name. It doesn’t take long before multiple files with her name pop up.

Ashia Morgan Carpenter…

I begin looking through them, and I only have to read two sentences before I find out who Cooper is…and he’s not fucking dead! I feel the rage resurface in my chest, and my hands shake again. I finally get to the seventh file, and I can’t stand to look anymore. I can’t focus enough to read anything… Her pictures from the attack are first to come up, and in a moment of pure fury I shove the laptop off of the desk and into the wall with one arm…

That mother fucker….

I look back to her and look over her body with pure adrenaline and hatred coursing through my veins…her tattoos make so much sense now. The placement of the ships, the direction of blaster shots, all of the stars… The reason she’s terrified to breathe or walk out of the apartment. Keeping as little distance to travel as possible with her home being directly over her place of business. Her tossing and turning at night, only able to sleep a few hours maximum before waking up in a panic and having to fall back asleep.

My feelings don’t feel wrong anymore. Clarity shoots through me just as harshly as it did last week. She needs me just as much as I need her. Everything I’ve done so far, and everything I’m about to do is now justified. We’re connected for a reason, and it’s not only so I can protect her. It’s so I can heal her. She’ll soften me, so I can harden her. The person she is underneath the sorrow and trauma is trying to claw its way out, and I’ll pull her from the depths. She’ll try to humanize me and bring me back from the cruel violence I dish out every day, while I make those that harmed her beg at her feet for forgiveness before I slaughter them.

I want to take every gentle fiber that is left of my being and give it to her while she explores her darkest and deepest, hidden desires. Her bloodlust and need for revenge must be wading on the surface of her, and I’ll allow her to be who she truly wants and needs to be without shaming her for it. In fact, I’ll admire her for it. She’s desperate to find out who she is, and she’ll find that with me. We were meant to complete each other; I see that now. I will be her weapon. Her protector, and she will wield me with such grace it would make queens weep.

She. Is. Mine.

And Cooper Siezly’s life will end.

Very soon.

Very. Painfully. Soon.

My phone rings, interrupting my awakening, and I have to resist the urge to fling it into the wall as well. After taking a moment to release my pent-up breath, I answer it without glancing away from my girl.

“What?” I say, practically hissing through my teeth.

“Damn, what’s wrong with you?” Carter asks, his voice filled with concern.

“Ashia. Look her up in the police database and you’ll see what’s fucking wrong with me. What do you need?” He’s silent for a moment as I hear his incessant clicking in the background. Then silence…he’s seeing what I saw, though he’s probably able to keep his shit together and look through it right now, unlike me.

“D…”

“Don’t say a fucking thing. Not to me or anyone else. I’m going to look at it in detail myself. What. Did. You. Need.” He clears his throat, and I swear I can hear him swallow his fear.

“Kit found another warehouse. No women yet, not even operational, but by the looks of it, their moving the equipment and chemicals in tonight. What do you want to do?” I continue to stare at her, and I can’t imagine leaving her alone. Now I understand her friend’s wariness. What happens if this guy comes for her? What if she finds herself on the balcony again and she has to suffer alone? This needs to be dealt with, but I don’t want to tear myself away. I’ll make this quick. With the pure rage flowing throughout my body, this won’t take long at all.

“Send me the location. I’ll do it myself. Get one of our drones to overlook her apartment while I’m gone.” I hang up before he can tell me anything else or protest. I need this release tonight, and he won’t deprive me of that.