Page 30 of Peripheral Vision (Tethered in Darkness Duet #1)

“Hello, little viper.” I can’t see his whole face, a mask partially obscuring it, but I can see the smile that crosses the bottom half as he says it, enjoying my discomfort.

The mask covers the upper half of his face, the rigid detail of a skeleton etched in pale white against the contrast of the dark, soft cloth that lingers underneath.

I try but fail to conceal the terror in my voice. “H-how did you get in here? What do you want?”

“See, here’s the thing about electronic key locks—they’re only as secure as the one who codes them.

They tend to provide a false sense of security too,” he says, taking a slow step forward, the faint click of his boot echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“And you have been quite careless with your security. You left yourself vulnerable, I couldn’t just let anybody take advantage of that could I? ”

I eye my phone where I have it set on the counter, weighing if I can inch towards it without him noticing me.

“You’re insane. I’ll call the police.” I adjust slightly to the side, shifting in the direction of my phone, lifting my hand to act as if I’m resting it on the counter behind me.

But somehow, he catches on to my scheme.

Before I have a chance to grab it, he closes the distance between us, grabbing it from where I just barely have it in my grasp.

He towers over me, his presence a suffocating force, his shoulders casting shadows that seem to swallow the light around us.

The subtle hint of campfire embers and pine invades my nostrils, clinging to him like a second skin.

The unmistakable aroma of well-worn leather, an interesting but pleasant undertone from the material of his jacket that makes me want to inhale him deeper.

He holds my phone above my head, shaking it in a taunt. “And what would you tell them, hmm? It isn’t like you have any proof. You’ve never had any proof.”

I know he’s right, but this time as I square off with him, I have the advantage of facing him, unlike when he caught me off guard back in Norfolk.

I feign a tremble, shrinking as far away from him as I can get from where he’s pinned me to the counter with nothing but his overbearing presence.

I look to my left and to my right for anything that I might be able to use to get him the hell away from me, to give me the chance to run.

My eyes snag on my ceramic toothbrush holder; not exactly what I wanted, but it’ll have to do.

This time I don't give him the chance to predict my next move. I grab it, quickly connecting it with the side of his head, before shoving him out of the way and taking off out of the doorway. The menacing chuckle that follows me tells me that I don’t have much time to escape him.

Just as I’m opening the front door, about to scream for help, an arm hauls me back.

He spins me around before slamming my back into the door, one hand over my mouth, the other securing my arms above my head with his hips pinned against my own.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, little viper.

” He removes the hand from my mouth, trailing it down the side of my face before pushing aside a piece of hair that was covering my collarbone.

My body betrays me, responding to his touch with a shiver, my nipples tightening in response.

I chalk it up to the high I was feeling earlier with Callum.

And if he notices, he doesn’t say. His hands are gloved, likely to not leave evidence of whatever he was going to do to me.

I strain my neck trying to get his touch off of me, but he grabs me by the chin, forcefully making me look at him.

“What do you want?” I plead.

“I’ve already told you once before. I want you .

And I’ve warned you that you’re mine, but you just…

don’t... listen.” He emphasizes his statement by grabbing my hair in a brutal grip, yanking my head back.

The way he does it sends a rush of desire through my skin that follows a path straight in between my legs.

“Do you really think he can care for you the way I can care for you? Do you think he knows you the way I know you, Dylan?”

I scoff, trying to ignore the way his voice caresses me like a soft, dangerous lullaby. “Care? You call this caring? This is an obsession. You don’t know me.” He tightens his grip on the base of my skull a little further, a gasp escaping my lips.

He doesn’t answer right away, but the tug of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

“But that’s where you’re wrong.” He steps back, still holding my arms in place above my head while using the other hand to peel the top of his mask from his face.

Recognition shoots through me, his emerald eyes pinning me there in triumph.

“Fletcher?” Shock rocks through my core forcefully enough that I feel like my legs are going to buckle beneath me.

“I know you better than anyone, Dylan. I’m the one person you have left in this world that knows everything about you.

I know your morning routine, the way you have to snooze your alarm three times before dragging yourself out of bed.

I know that your favorite book is The Bell Jar and that you used to carry around a worn copy in your school bag.

I remember you telling me that you liked it because you could relate to how the main character struggled with a sense of belonging.

I know you’re afraid of the dark, not because of the dark itself, but what lurks beyond it.

I know that you throw yourself into things because it’s easier than focusing on your trauma—the fact that you didn’t have a mother who cared enough about you to stay clean during her pregnancy.

Or why don’t we talk about how lonely you felt when your dad was away, but you didn’t feel like you could tell anyone because it was his one way of supporting you?

“I know your most embarrassing moment, and all about your vulnerabilities—the self-doubt, hoping that through all of your hard work, it would make you good enough. That's why you seek to have control. Because if you have control you can’t get hurt. You’ve always tried to overcompensate by being perfect because you felt like if you were, nobody would bother to look below the surface and see who is really there.

But I see you. I see the cracks beneath the polished facade.

And do you want to know something else, little viper?

” He breathes in deeply, his hand releasing my arms from above my head.

“I know that you pretend to want normal—the house with the picket fence, the boyfriend that will give you just because gifts, a boring nine-to-five that’ll actually leave you miserable.

But you don’t, you never have, you just tell yourself you do because it’s what everybody else would expect.

You crave something more. It’s always been hidden there under your glass skin, waiting for something to crash into it and break it free.

You want the passion, the fire, the kind of life that doesn’t fit into neat boxes because that’s exactly what you’ve had, and you refuse to admit it makes you unhappy.

That’s why nothing has ever felt just right.

So tell me again how I don’t know you? Tell me how that little boyfriend of yours could possibly know you better? ”

The hand that he had released from holding me against the door grazes down my side, leaving a scorch of heat in its wake.

My rational mind is screaming at me to push him away, but his words have drawn me in.

I’m rattled and I’m repulsed by his intensity…

I’m also surprised at the level of detail he’s paid to my life…

but he’s still Fletcher. He’s still my dad’s best friend, older and off limits in all the ways that count.

“This isn’t normal. This isn’t the you that I remember. ”

He tilts his head, weighing my words. “Normal is boring, little viper. You need someone to take care of you… all alone in the world. Your dad, he always told me to watch out for you if anything ever happened to him.”

“But not like this. This isn’t what he would’ve wanted.” I try to step away from him but he blocks my way, an immovable force.

“It might not be what he wanted, but it’s what you need,” he growls out, and I hate that I feel this pull towards him.

As if he’s known the truth all along and has been waiting for me to admit it.

As if he’s the only one with the key to desires even I haven’t discovered yet.

“I just want what’s best for you, Dylan.

I always have. These… boys, they are never going to get you like I do…

never care for you like I can. You need a man.

When I take you, Dylan… because it is when…

” His voice is low, rough, and dripping with a heat that coils in my stomach.

He leans in, his lips so close to my ear that his brea th brushes against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

“It won’t be gentle. I won’t hold back. I’ll give you everything I am, and I’ll take everything you have to give.

No reservations, no apologies. These boys wouldn’t know how to touch you the way I’m going to touch you.

They wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way I’m going to fuck you.

I’m going to erase every trace of them from your skin. ”

My knees threaten to give out beneath me, the intensity in his eyes pinning me in place.

There’s nothing soft in his gaze now, only raw, unrelenting hunger that makes my pulse race and my breath falter.

“I don’t do half-measures, Dylan,” he continues, his tone dark and filled with promise.

“And when it’s us, when I finally have you, you’ll feel every ounce of it.

Every. Single. Thing.” I swallow hard, trying to form words, but my mind is a haze, caught between the thrill of his words and the ache of his retreat as he pulls back slightly.

His lips quirk into a crooked smile, dangerous and knowing, as if he can see every thought racing through my head.

“But not yet,” he says, his voice softening but no less commanding.

He steps away, the sudden distance leaving me cold and wanting, but his parting words hit me like a bolt of lightning.

“When the time comes, Dylan, you won’t question what I want. You’ll feel it, and you’ll beg for it.”

I’m stuck in between silence and the torment of dialogue I want to throw at him.

But before I can, he leaves me with one more piece of tantalizing conversation.

“If you don’t stop seeing him, little viper, you aren’t going to like what happens next.

” And then he is gone, stepping out into the cold night air before I can say anything at all, leaving me with conflicting feelings despite the violation.

How I was going to reconcile this Fletcher with the Fletcher I grew up around, I had no idea.

I should still call the cops, because this man is a stranger.

His actions are terrifying, and yet the strings connecting our past are like a psychological pull I can’t ignore.

Not when he’s made it clear he isn’t going to leave well enough alone.