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THE STALKER

M addie sits in the large bathtub, her hair pinned up on top of her head, revealing her gorgeous neck. I grin as I see the marks on it from me nipping at her skin. I plan to give her more of them.

I’d love to be in that tub with her, but Maddie pointed at my stitches and said, “Hell no. Once those come out, then you can get in here with me.” Then she grabbed my face, pulled me down to meet her lips, and kissed the hell out of me.

She’s confounding as hell—and I love it.

I’m perched on the edge of the tub, wearing my boxers. Taking a deep breath, I fill my lungs with air, then exhale. My stomach is in knots and my mouth is dry. I agreed to tell her about the meaning behind my tattoo, and I never go back on my word. Especially not with her.

Rubbing my hands together, I lean forward, my feet in the warm water. I don’t know where to begin.

Her feet wrap around my ankle beneath the water and my gaze moves to her. “You said you’d tell me about your tattoo. You still haven’t… If it makes you too uncomfortable, you don’t have to tell me, Jagger.” Honey-brow eyes stare at me with concern.

Shaking my head, I sit back against the wall surrounding the tub. “I’m going to tell you. I just… Don’t know where to begin.”

Maddie gives me an encouraging smile. “Why don’t we start with whatever you’re comfortable telling me?”

I grunt. “None of it makes me comfortable.” Sadness cloaks my heart as I begin. “Jason and Abby are not my biological brother and sister. Their parents, John and Alicia Brandt, adopted me.”

Maddie looks surprised but doesn’t say anything.

“My biological mom died in a car accident when I was eight years old. My dad was a fireman, and he was one of the first at the accident scene and didn’t know it was his wife in the car. He tried to save her but was unsuccessful.” My head lowers as the pain swells through me.

“I’m sorry, Jagger.” Maddie’s soft voice draws my attention. I simply nod, too choked up to say anything.

“My dad suffered severe burns from the fire that engulfed her and her vehicle and was hospitalized because of his injuries. I stayed with Jason and Abby while he was in the hospital.”

Maddie’s eyes are full of sympathy, but she doesn’t interrupt, patiently waiting for me to unveil my story in my own way.

“Because of his injuries, my dad became addicted to pain medication. His obsession with my mother left him bereft, and the only way he could cope was by using medication and alcohol. He… changed. Before my mom’s death, I had a happy childhood with two loving parents. After she was gone, it turned into hell on earth.”

Leaning my head back against the wall, my entire body is rigid as I stare at the ceiling. “My dad alternated between cruelty and neglect. Social workers came and went, but the system failed me. Even though John Brandt, my adopted father, was a doctor and had treated my wounds, even broken bones, it fell on deaf ears. No one would help me.”

Her sob draws my attention to her. Tears stream down her cheeks as she slowly shakes her head. “I’m so sorry, Jagger. How in the fuck…” her hand clamps over her quivering lips.

I shrug, but inwardly, the pain eats away at my guts. Despite my father’s death, the memories of what he did to me live on inside my head. Nothing can undo the trauma he caused, not even his death.

“Alicia Brandt taught me how to cook some things so I could eat because my father didn’t bother preparing meals. One day he brought home McDonald’s and gave me three fries and a piece of his roll. He chowed down on his meal in front of me but never bothered getting me anything, and only threw me those few scraps. My stomach hurt so bad from not eating. It was during Christmas break, so I didn’t have a school lunch. I sat there and bawled, begging to be excused from the table. But my dad refused.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Maddie mutters, her eyes red from her tears.

“He’s dead. Died when I was fourteen.” I hope she doesn’t ask how he died. I’m not sure how Maddie would feel knowing I was the one who killed him.

“Good,” she spits out, her anger evident by her red face, clenched teeth, and hands balled into fists on her bent knees. “I may still dig up his bones and light them on fire for hurting you.”

My laugh is brittle. Talking about my past puts me in a terrible head space.

Blowing out a long sigh, I continue. “When I was ten, I started cooking meals from the groceries Alicia dropped off regularly. Of course, my father wanted me to cook for him.” Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “One day, I was making macaroni and cheese, steak, potatoes, and vegetables. The steak and potatoes were in the oven, and the water was on the stove to boil. I ran to grab my backpack from my bedroom so I could work on homework while I cooked. My dad arrived home while I was upstairs. By this point, he was using heroin and cocaine because his doctor had cut him off from the pain meds, saying he was an addict. He traded one vice for another.” I sigh. “What I didn’t know was he screwed with the timers and the oven temperature.”

Running my fingers through my hair, I sigh, hating to tell her this. I know why she wants to know, but I’m afraid her view of me will change.

“When I came downstairs, dad was by the stove. He told me the water started boiling, so he dumped the macaroni into the pan to cook. It made me nervous, but when I went near the stove, he put me in a headlock, yelling at me for not trusting him.” Hanging my head, my voice is barely above a whisper when I say, “I sat at the table, doing my homework. I tried to finish it before the timer went off, indicating the food was done. It didn’t occur to me that it should have already gone off. Once the smoke started rolling through the kitchen, I realized the food was burnt. I knew what he’d done. I ran to the stove, and he came after me, screaming at me for burning the food. As I was trying to turn off the stove and oven, he grabbed the pan of boiling macaroni. I managed to turn around as he flung it toward me so the boiling water hit my back.”

Maddie gasps and I raise my eyes to hers. Her mouth hangs open and her eyes are wide from horror. “He threw scalding water on you?”

I nod. “Worse yet, it was hot inside the house that day. Dad didn’t allow me to turn on the air conditioner, so I had my shirt off.” I wince as the memory of the scalding water hitting my back runs through me. “It hurt like hell. My skin blistered, pissing him off…” Choking back a sob, I say, “He was so mad he grabbed a knife and started popping the blisters.”

“Ohmygod!” Maddie shoots to her knees in front of me, bubbles cling to her. “Jagger…” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.” Her tears drip from her face onto my neck.

I squeeze her tighter. “I know, baby girl.” My hand strokes her back.

When she pulls back, she tries to wipe her eyes, but I stop her. Instead, I rain gentle kisses over her face, her hot tears soothing my aching soul.

Maddie doesn’t sit back in the water once I’ve leaned back against the wall. Instead, she sits on her knees in front of me. “How did you get the tattoo and why did you choose that design?”

Grabbing her hand, I thread my fingers around hers. “Jason came over and found me unconscious on the kitchen floor. He was worried when he hadn’t heard from me. I had a phone but kept it hidden. Jason’s parents gave it to me because my father refused to get me one. When he kept texting and I didn’t answer, he rode his bike to my house. He rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Luckily, he looked through the kitchen window and saw me lying on the floor. My dad had left to go to the bar…”

“Fuck, Jagger. I’m sorry, but your father was a sick bastard.”

“I know. Don’t apologize for saying that, Maddie. It’s the truth.”

She sighs, her hand gently swiping the hair from my eyes. “I hate that he hurt you.”

Leaning forward, I give her a gentle kiss. “I know, baby girl. I see it on your face… In your eyes…”

Releasing an exhale, I continue. “Jason called his dad, who rushed over. I regained consciousness on the way to the hospital. John Brandt took good care of me, and once I was released, I stayed with them.”

Grabbing Maddie’s hand, I lift it, kissing the back of it. “I wanted to live with Jason and his family. I was terrified of being put in the foster system and losing the only people who showed me any concern and love. I lied and said it was an accident. I was thirteen years old, and the thought of living with a foster family who may be even crueler than my dad… I couldn’t do it.”

“I understand. But that meant you had to go back with your monster of a father, right?”

I nod. “Yup.” I rub my fingers over her knuckles, my thoughts lost in the past. “My dad neglected or abused me in various forms over the years, but that was one of the worst. Broken bones were one thing… but burning me, then using a knife on the blisters… It was hell, baby girl.”

Tears run down her cheeks as she squeezes my hand. “I can’t imagine, Jagger.”

I give her a brief smile. “I was bullied in school because of the scars on my back, so I kept my shirt on. When I had to change for gym class, I ran into the bathroom and did it there so the kids wouldn’t make fun of me.”

She sighs. “Kids can be so damn cruel.”

“Yes, they can.” I heave out a sigh. “Which leads to my tattoo. My dad was spiraling into his addiction, which was a good thing for me because he often didn’t care or forgot I was supposed to be home. One day, a kid named Brandon McConnell grabbed my shirt in gym class, yanking it off me. I chased him around, trying to get it, but he was faster. He showed everyone my scars, making fun of me for them. When I left school that afternoon, a bunch of guys jumped me, pulling off my shirt and taking pictures and videos of my back while they held me down. It was humiliating.”

“Can I kill them, too?” Maddie asks in a soft voice.

I chuckle, kissing her soft lips. “No, baby girl. Besides, Jason and I ended up taking care of them. He’d been sick that day and wasn’t at school. When I told him, and he saw the social media posts, he went ballistic. That’s when we started working out…” Waving my hand dismissively, I say, “That memory haunted me for years, even after the Brandt’s adopted me. When I was seventeen, I convinced Alicia, my adopted mom, to let me get a tattoo to help cover my scars. It took some convincing, but she agreed, and took me to have it done.”

“Why did you choose that design?”

“Well, my biological mom’s name was Rosalie. Everyone called her Rose. My dad used to give her red roses because she loved them.” I swallow hard, my chest tight from the vulnerability I’ve shown her. “My mom was incredible. When she died in that accident, everything that was good in my world ended with her.” Tears fill my eyes. “My dad’s obsession with my mom was clearly harmful. Because I looked a lot like her, I was punished for it.” Heaving out a long sigh, I say, “The rose symbolizes my mom, the last good thing in my life, dying in the fire. And it reminds me that love burns everything in its path, leaving behind only destruction, and to avoid it at all costs.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I can’t look at her.

Silence descends over the room. Maddie is so still, I don’t even hear the water in the tub sloshing around from her movements.

My breaths are quick and shallow as I panic. Sweat trickles down my back as thoughts race through my head. My dad fucked me up. My views on relationships and love were jaded because of it, that’s why I’ve never had a girlfriend.

Why did I confess this to her? I should push her away. I should—

My frantic thoughts stop as soon as her hands grip mine. “Jagger. Please, look at me.”

My eyes open, locking on hers. Her hands are on my face, brushing away the tears I didn’t realize were falling.

“Stop it. Whatever you’re thinking… wherever you went. Just… Stay with me. Please.”

I’m stunned as her words wash over me, penetrating my skin. “What… Maddie, what are you saying?”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “You’re an incredible man. Even more incredible than I could possibly imagine.”

I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. After pulling the plug so the tub can drain, I grab Maddie’s hands, tugging her to her feet. Then I lift her so her legs wrap around my waist. I carry her over to the shower, turning it on, then lower her to the floor.

As I yank my boxers off, Maddie says, “Jagger, your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches.” Grinning, I say, “The spray can pound my back while I’m pounding you.”

Holding her hand, I help her into the shower, then step in behind her. Lifting her in my arms, I press her back against the shower wall. Our lips are desperate and frantic, and I can feel her wet heat surrounding me.

“Please, Jagger.”

That’s all she needs to say. I guide my dick to her soaked pussy, pushing inside her wet heat, the warm water hitting my back.

I just need her. All of her.

“Fuck, Jagger. More,” she begs, her nails digging into the back of my neck as her heels dig into my ass.

“Yes, baby girl,” I say, between thrusts, my brain focused on only one thing—consuming her.

She moans, whispers, begs, and finally, screams my name as her orgasm soaks me. Although I want to fill her with my come, it’s not enough yet. I can’t get enough of her.

After she had two more orgasms, I finally let loose, spurting my seed deep inside of her. My breaths heave in and out of my lungs as I lean against her neck.

As I climb out of the shower with her wrapped around me, I wonder how a man like me, who endured so much hell, has finally found my personal slice of heaven.

Her.