Page 18 of Peripheral Vision (Tethered in Darkness Duet #1)

Chapter

Twelve

FLETCHER

I ’ve been sitting quietly in the dim corner of the bar, glaring at the guy who’s stolen all of Dylan’s attention.

I should be putting that smile on her face.

It should be me stealing those subtle touches, keeping her laughter to myself.

It takes all of my will to not get up, walk over there, and rip his arm out of its socket for touching what’s mine.

Taking a deep breath, I loosen my hand around where it’s clenched on the glass of the draft beer I ordered before Dylan arrived.

She should really trust those instincts of hers, trust the goosebumps that I know pebble her soft skin every time she feels like someone is watching her.

They’re not just random shivers or figments of her imagination, they’re signals, whispers from the universe warning her to stay alert.

I know she keeps trying to talk herself out of it, but I also know the questions that swim through her mind every time she finds another clue.

A clue I placed there for her, to keep her guessing.

The doubt. The trust in herself slowly dwindling.

It’s through the subtle glances over her shoulder, the way her eyes search for an invisible force.

She feels it, even when she doesn’t fully understand it .

That thought angers me further when I realize that she hasn’t bothered to look nervous once since she walked through that door.

I want her scared like she was earlier when she froze under the knowledge that a stranger lurked beyond her passenger door.

When she analyzed the note I left for her on her windshield.

When she was trying to decipher if it was a coincidence or something more.

She knows she’s right—I have been watching her.

I’ve been watching her all day, awaiting her next move.

That’s why I’m here now, because I saw that application on her seat, and if this is where she’s going to be working, spending more of her time, then I will be, too.

But she doesn’t realize I’m watching her now.

Suddenly, her light laughter cuts through the haze of the bar like it was meant for me alone.

Even though I know she’s offering it up to the louse that’s across from her as they stand, taking his outstretched hand as he leads her away from their table.

Her hips sway with each step she takes in that little leather skirt of hers.

A skirt I want to trail my hands underneath, to see just what she’s hiding.

A growl reverberates in my throat. It drives me insane, the way she tilts her head, her messy ponytail spilling over her shoulder, oblivious to the weight of my stare.

How does she not feel it? Doesn’t she know she belongs with me? To me.

The guy, who I now realize is an employee here as he takes her behind the bar, doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.

I can see it in the way he leans too close, his hands brushing hers as they work.

She laughs again, and something sharp twists in my chest. But I can’t make a scene.

Not here, not now. I force myself to stay seated, taking another long sip of the beer I no longer want.

My pulse is racing, my mind a storm of possibilities.

She doesn’t even glance my way, but she should.

If she would just trust herself, listen to that voice inside her head, she’d look up and realize. Time to take care of that myself.

Getting up from my seat, I exit the building, making my way around the back and into the alley.

My eyes search the exterior of the bar, roaming over the dumpster, the poor lighting, before I locate what I’m looking for—the breaker box.

I know I’m taking a chance that it may not even be her who comes to check the breakers, but if I had to guess I would assume that the bartenders will send her while they calm the crowd inside.

Approaching the box, I flip all the switches to the off position, and I can hear the disappointment spread throughout the bar in curses and screams. Quickly retreating, I find my place on the opposite side of the dumpster, pulling the mask I had hidden under my jacket out and placing it on my face.

I lean against the wall, waiting for whoever comes walking out of that door.

Sure enough, a few moments later and my inquisition was correct.

Dylan steps out, looking in both directions before her hazel orbs settle on the breaker box.

Those damn eyes have burrowed their way into my dreams—a kaleidoscope of earthy greens, warm ambers, and golden flecks that shift with the light—I want nothing more than to stare into them while I’m seated deep inside her pussy.

Before she has a chance to open the box, I make my presence known by knocking into the side of the dumpster, making a loud metallic ring.

Dylan freezes like a deer in headlights, her hand hovering just above the box, her posture stiff.

She glances over her shoulder, and I can see the shiver work its way up her spine.

Her eyes search the alley, the dim light barely enough to illuminate her features, but I can see the fear written all over her face.

I can’t help the faint smirk that tugs at my lips; she’s the most beautiful when she’s startled.

“Who’s there?” she calls out, a slight tremble to her voice.

I take a slow step forward, emerging from the shadows enough for her to see me, but not make out my features.

Not that it matters, not behind the mask I wear.

Her breath hitches as her gaze locks onto mine. “Who—who are you? What do you want?”

I don’t answer her right away, letting the tension crackle through the cooling night air.

The faint flicker of unease flashes through her eyes, darting to the door, wondering if she’s fast enough to escape me.

Not that I plan to chase her, not tonight anyway.

But the idea of that makes my cock swell.

“If you knew what I wanted, little viper, you’d never stop running—not that I’d mind the chase, but I want to make sure we both enjoy it when you do. ”

Her body stiffens and she takes a step back toward the door.

Her hand hovers near her pocket before realizing that she doesn’t have anything, not even her phone.

I watch her swallow slowly, weighing her options.

Something keeps her rooted though, curiosity maybe, or the instinct to confront rather than flee.

Smart girl, I know who taught her that. “I asked you a question. What do you want?” The uncertainty flows through her voice, even though I can see the fight to keep it steady.

I take another step forward, careful not to move too fast. The dim glow from the lights is still not enough to expose my full silhouette.

It highlights the outline of my mask perfectly.

I’m not ready to stop the fun yet. “To talk,” I say, my tone softer now, almost coaxing.

“You, my little viper, play the prey so well, acting like you’re ensnared in a trap when it’s you who has ensnared me. I couldn’t ignore you now if I tried.”

Her breath catches once more and I can see the recognition in her eyes—my voice, my presence, there’s something familiar about me.

Good. That’s what I’ve been wanting. To keep her on the edge, piecing together the truth.

“You know my name?” she whispers, her hand lowering slightly, though her guard is still up.

“You once asked what kind of stalker I was. What kind of predator wouldn’t know the name of his prey? You didn’t think I’d let you go that easily when you moved, did you? It only made me want you more.” I smile, just enough to be visible in the shadows.

Her lips part, a quiet exhale slipping out as she glances toward the breaker box, then back at me. “You shut off the power.” There’s no question in her voice, she already knows the answer.

I tilt my head, the gesture deliberate. “I wanted a moment alone with you. Away from the noise, the distractions, him . I wanted to make it clear that you’re mine, Dylan.” Another growl unintentionally escapes my throat.

Her jaw tightens and for a second, I think she might bolt. But she doesn’t. Not yet. “You’re crazy,” she breathes, disbelief coating her tongue.

I chuckle softly, the sound low and warm.

“Crazy? Maybe. In more ways than you can possibly count. But also in the way that keeps me awake at night thinking of you. Of all the ways I can claim you, make you scream my name. You don’t know what it’s like, Dylan.

You think I’ve been haunting you, but the way you haunt me like a ghost—it’s like walking through a fog you can’t see but always feel.

You slip into my thoughts uninvited, weaving through my every waking moment, settling in my chest, refusing to leave.

You haunt me in the quiet, in the silence between breaths, in the space where I should have peace.

But all I feel is the apparition of you.

It’s vexing. You don’t understand. Not yet. But I intend to make sure that you do.

“You’re mine, little viper, and I’ll make sure you realize it, whether you want to or not. You think you’re free, but freedom is an illusion. You’ve been mine since I laid eyes on you. I’m going to claim you, and when I do, I’m never letting you go,” I murmur.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” she says, her voice hard. “You need to leave… now.”