Page 5 of To Love a Monster (Oaths & Obsessions #1)

Lila

T he next morning breathes heavily in the house.

Strained, like it's braced for something. I feel it the second I open my eyes, tight air and thick silence. I swing my legs out of bed and pull a sweater over my shoulders, but it doesn’t shake off the now constant sense of being watched.

My feet pad bare across the wood floor and into the studio.

The covered canvas leans like a body in hiding.

My fingers shake slightly as I run them along the edges and I find myself hesitating.

But then I force myself to pick it up and march through the door.

I need to start taking back control and it starts with getting this stupid fucking painting out of my house.

The deck is sharp and cold, biting through my feet like tiny teeth.

The pre-dawn light casts the trees in soft shadows.

There’s no movement and no sound, but after the texts I received yesterday, I know he’s out there.

The trash bin stands at the end of my deck and I prop the painting against it, making sure it’s visible for him to see I’ve tossed it out. Then I turn away and go back inside.

I rub my hands up and down my arms, forcing warmth into them.

I flick the kettle on and watch it shake on the burner as I add sugar to my small mug.

The first sip of coffee burns my mouth as I look out the window and choke on my next sip.

No fucking way . I’d only turned my back for a few moments and it’s gone.

The painting by the bin just vanished. And what’s in its place makes my stomach tighten.

It’s a paintbrush. Nothing special, it’s just a single small brush.

I don’t think, I race outside and grab it, but as I twirl it around in my fingers I see it isn’t any one of mine. But the wood is warm. He was here. He took it, it had to be him.

Without thinking, I throw the paintbrush into the bin and hold up my middle finger to the air.

I hope he’s watching now. I am so annoyed I just wish I could flip him off right to his fucking face.

This is more than just a game. Between the texts and this?

It feels like he’s trying to invade my mind.

I turn around, looking to the tree line and along the lake shore, hoping to see him again but I don’t.

But I know he’s somewhere in the shadows.

I can feel his eyes on me and it only serves to make me even angrier.

“Hey, asshole! Take your fucking brush and shove it. I’m done playing your stupid games.

You hear me? You have my attention, so stop being a creep and come out already!

” I shout. After a few moments of silence I turn and head back into the house. I think I need to blow off some steam.

****

I pull my hair back and tie my shoes tight.

I need to be in the crisp air, to run through it until the world blurs and smears behind me.

Until there’s no feeling left in my head or my chest. The trail through the trees opens its mouth, eager to swallow me whole as my feet hit the dirt.

My lungs inhale fog as I pump my legs, my breath hitting the silence like a hammer.

The path curves around the lake, hungry for the pounding rhythm of my escape.

As I run along the path I search for the gnawing sense of not-alone and I wonder if he’d follow me as I run.

The urge to look over my shoulder claws at my heels with every step, but I push it aside and instead focus on moving my body faster.

Usually, focusing on the actual act of running manages to take my mind off of pretty much any thought that bothers me but this time it doesn’t work.

Not after yesterday's texts, the painting, the brush. The gut-deep feeling that every shadow hides his eyes makes my pulse thud, and what’s worse is that I don’t know if it makes me feel afraid or aroused that a sexy-as-fuck man has taken such an interest in me and has now taken to following me around.

Does that make me crazy? Probably. I have a stalker.

Any sane person would be fleeing the lake house and knocking down the doors to the local police station. Yet here I was, out for a jog instead.

The trees close in, skeletal and unforgiving as bare branches snap like small bones beneath my sneakers.

The cold air rushes against my warm skin and a chill runs down my spine as I feel it.

His eyes on me. The pull is becoming way too familiar now.

It’s like a hand on my spine and a whisper curling my every thought into one. Run .

But that’s probably what he wants, isn’t it?

To make me flee and to see me afraid? Well, fuck him.

Fuck his games and his messages. I’m not running and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

This is a town I spent my childhood visiting and nobody gets to come here and start pulling strings to set me on edge.

I skid to a stop and turn with my arms out, daring and inviting.

“Come on then!” I yell. “I know you’re out there, you creep. Show yourself!”

I wait for a reply, for someone to step out of the shadows but there’s nothing.

Just the sound of my breath and the stretch of my nerves.

“Coward!” I scream, voice shaking as much as my legs.

“Come out! I know you’re the guy from the art store and I know you’ve been following me since, so why keep pretending, huh? ”

There’s nothing but silence, a quiet so sharp it cuts. And then, I hear it, a breath of sound that I swear sounds like a laugh.

I stand there, shoulders heaving. Alone and not-alone.

“Come on!” I shout again, my heart beating hard in my chest. “Why fuck around with stupid text messages when I’m right here, ready to talk to you face to face?

” I know I shouldn’t be encouraging this.

Pushing him to come out when he could very well be dangerous.

But I carry on anyway, feeling a tad more brave now that he’s not responded by stepping out of the shadows with an axe and a body bag.

“Ooh, big bad stalker got stage fright?” I laugh, bitter and empty. “Is this what gets you off? Watching women from the trees like a fucking weirdo?”

Again, there’s no answer and no movement. Just the cold smear of woods and sky. I’m about to give up and make my way back to the cabin when my phone vibrates in my pocket, heavy and taunting. Unknown number.

Keep that up and I’ll have no choice but to punish you.

I suck in a sharp breath as my heart pounds in my chest. My words cut through the branches and leaves, searching for where he could be hiding.

“Oh, yeah?” I call, eyes narrowing into the dense forest. “Punish me how? By stealing my trash again? Leaving a scary little paint brush? Sending a text ? Very fucking scary. I’m terrified, actually.

” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

The reply is silence. No laugh. Nothing. I kick at the dirt and scream, “What, nothing to say now, big bad wolf? Gone back into hiding again, have we?”

Another buzz. I read it fast, each word like a finger curling tight around me.

You know, Lila, I liked you better when you were soaking wet with your legs spread. When you used that voice for moaning rather than shouting at wolves in the wind like a scared little lamb.

My face flushes as I realize that he knows my name. He saw me in the bath? What the fuck? How? Did I leave the window open? The heat hits everywhere. “Screw you, creep.” I snap, spinning in a full circle, searching for a figure, a flicker, anything. Buzz.

Don’t tempt me.

“Oh, really?” I shout, louder now. “Come on then! You’re probably one of those socially awkward losers who prefer peeping through windows rather than meeting people the normal way, aren’t you? Are you that afraid to speak to a woman?”

My voice hangs breathlessly before it falls away to nothing. Then I hear another buzz.

You think I’m afraid? Oh, little lamb. No.

You see, you already belong to me. I’m simply waiting for the perfect time, but if you keep pushing, I’ll come out of these woods and show you how good girls are meant to behave.

I’ll fuck you until your throat’s too raw to beg and your legs forget how to close.

My blood pounds so loud I can barely hear myself. I stare at the message, my breath caught as my pulse slams in my ears. My hands are shaking, but not from fear. Not entirely anyway.

“You’re sick!” I yell into the trees, voice cracked and high.

But even as the words leave me, something inside twists.

A heat coils low in my belly, furious and wrong.

I want to run, go back home and forget this mad man even exists.

But at the same time, some feral part of me aches at the way he speaks to me like I’ve already given myself to him. The way he wants me.

God, what the fuck is wrong with me?

I don’t know what possessed me to call his bluff. Was it because I thought I could win? Did I think it would scare him off? Or maybe I wanted to see how far he’d take it, if he’d actually show up or if he was content with just watching from afar.

For all I know, this man is dangerous. He’s certainly unhinged.

But he hasn’t hurt me. Not yet at least. And it’s not like he hasn’t had the chance.

Instead, he keeps showing up in ways I can’t ignore and pulling strings I didn’t know existed. What’s worse is that I keep responding.

“I’m not scared of you!” I scream, as if saying it out loud might rewrite the truth. I’m greeted by silence. There’s no wind, no birds chirping overhead. Just the forest holding its breath.

But I know he’s still out there. Watching. Smirking. Waiting .

****

Surveillance Log: L.M

S ubject : Lila Montgomery

Location : Matteo’s cabin

Status : Partial radio silence / Target secure / External anomaly logged / Surveillance Feed Review

She doesn’t understand yet. Not fully. But she’s beginning to, and that’s a start.

That’s what makes it thrilling. Her slow slip from defiance into need.

She fights it but every breath is another tether.

The way she pushes back only pulls me in.

She’ll learn soon enough. It’s more personal than she knows.

Than I let her believe. There’s nothing accidental about this.

About us . This girl has a voice that makes my veins hum with electricity.

Makes me burn like fire. I hear her even when she doesn’t mean me to.

I watch her in ways she never imagines. And I never let her out of sight.

She was bold today. After making myself known she still walked into the woods like a woman trying to summon a god she doesn’t believe in.

Shouting. Cursing. Challenging me. And I let her, staying just out of reach but close enough to taste her voice.

To see the pulse flutter at her throat as she hurled her anger into the trees.

She thought she was getting to me. Thought her words would push me out of hiding. “ Coward .”

Her defiance lit a fuse in me. She doesn’t realize what that mouth of hers has invited.

Not yet. But soon she will. I’ll just let her curiosity continue to build for now, I’ll wait until she realizes that the unknown is what makes this so exciting, that her fear is truly just masked arousal just waiting to be recognized.

Every time she shouted into the woods I pictured it.

Her back against the bark, legs trembling, voice cracking into something softer.

That fire in her eyes, breaking down into pure need.

She was practically begging for it and I would have given it to her if it weren’t so fun to watch her frustration build.

I wanted to stalk out of those trees, wrap her braid around my fist, drag her to her knees in the dirt and hold her still while I made her learn what surrender feels like. I wanted to bend her over, hold her wrists behind her back and bury myself inside her as she screamed for more.

But I didn’t touch her. Not today. Didn’t answer her call, chase her back to the cabin or send another message. I want her to feel what silence tastes like. How it lingers. She thinks she scared me off. Thinks I’m gone. Cute.

After she went inside, I pulled up the archived cam feed from her house, the one that records whenever she leaves the property.

I scrubbed back to the time she left for her run.

And that’s when I saw him. It wasn’t a reflection.

Not a deer or shadow. A man. Standing by her window and staring inside. Not moving. Watching .

He didn’t try to break in and didn’t touch anything. But I know a predator when I see one. Looks like we found our target. I sent the frame to Matteo. Didn’t give him details, just the timestamp. Within five minutes, I had my answer.

Track him. Find out who he is and don’t let her out of your sight.

That was it. He gave me no name and no affiliation.

Which means he doesn’t know either. Could be nothing.

Just a man walking by. Looking for a rental.

A goddamn birdwatcher. But the timing doesn’t sit right.

People don’t just drift past and get that close to an empty lake house unless they have a reason.

I don’t believe in coincidences. Especially not when she’s involved.

For now, she thinks the quiet is mercy. That she won. That her shouting scared the wolf away. But she has no idea I’m closer than ever.

She was brave to test me today, to challenge a demon she doesn’t know. And I can’t wait to fuck that fight out of her until she forgets how to speak without moaning my name.

Every scream, every gasp, every insult she shouts my way, I'll take it all. I’ll turn her defiance into devotion. Her fear into fucking worship.

And when she’s writhing beneath me, soaked through and feral with want, she’ll finally understand that good girls don’t run.

They kneel.

— N