Shit. You really are an idiot, Addie.
I rest my elbows on my knees and slump my head into my hands. My thoughts are spiraling out of control.
Who cares if it happened to be the most mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had in my life? And probably will ever have. The dude is just as crazy as the girl on screen.
He’s killed before, and he’s obviously going to do it again, and what if he tries to take out the goddamn President next? Or someone else with connections to some very unhinged people?
I just don’t think I’m okay with that. I look up at the screen again, a news reporter standing in front of flashing siren lights at Satan's Affair.
I’m just not okay with this. With the fear that some terrifying people are going to come after me because Zade keeps killing off high-profile people. He’s a goddamn serial killer.
I need to end things with him. For good.
It doesn’t matter what he makes me feel. He’s going to put my life in danger, over and over. And how does someone just… be okay with that?
I’m rocking in Gigi's old chair when a flash of movement outside my window catches my eye. My heart skips several beats when I find my shadow standing on the other side, several feet away with that damn red cherry blaring in the night.
Fuck. He’s here.
He’s not going to listen to reason when I tell him to leave me alone. He never did before, it won't be any different now. I need to figure out how the hell to get him away from me permanently. Maybe I'll look into that bodyguard Daya spoke about before.
But right now, the only thing I can do is call the police. They'll be here quick if I lie and say I'm in serious danger, and in the meantime, I'll try to convince him to leave.
Adrenaline and a heady mix of fear trickles into my bloodstream as I scramble up and away from the window and look for my phone.
Looking around frantically, I tear apart the living room in search of my phone. My heart is pounding, the sound resonating in my ears as my breath draws short and choppy.
It takes several minutes before I finally find my phone lodged beneath a couch cushion. When I straighten and glance out the window, I finally do freeze.
He’s gone.
Oh my fuck, where did he go?
Hands trembling, I dial in the numbers. 9-1-. I feel his presence press into my back a moment before he plucks the phone from my hand. My breath hitches as he clears the numbers, and the phone disappears from view.
His breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “Were you about to call the police on me?” he tsks. “And here I thought we were past this.”
My breath stutters. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Zade. I-I don’t want you.”
His quiet breathing is swallowed by the news reporter droning on in the background.
Finally, he says, “When did you become such a liar?”
Closing my eyes, I take a steadying breath. And then I lift my leg and stomp on his foot as hard as I can. He grunts, but before I can make a run for it, his arms encircle my waist and trap me against him.
“That’s very naughty, little mouse. And you know what happens when you’re naughty?” A heartbeat passes before he finally growls into my ear, “You get fucking eaten.”
Fire licks at my insides, igniting my entire being from the inside out. His words cause an elicit hunger to claw its way down from my throat, through my stomach, and straight to the sensitive spot between my legs.
But I will not give in so easily. I will not let this man continue to get inside my head—my body.
“I’m not your fucking prey.”
“Then why do you let me consume you?” he whispers before encircling his hand around my throat and squeezing tight. Stubble pierces my skin as his cheek rubs down the side of my own before his mouth descends on my neck. A sharp nip pulls a gasp from my lips.
His hand tightens further while my breath shortens. Words rise to my tongue, but they fail to release when a low growl vibrates from his chest, and throughout my body.
“You know how much I love it when you run,” he rasps. His other hand travels across my stomach roughly before sliding up to my heaving breasts.
He cups one in his hand and squeezes. I feel the blood rise, rushing to my face as another whimper is wrung from my throat. My nipples are hardened into twin peaks, rubbing almost painfully against the fabric of my bra. Once he bares me completely, he’ll see the evidence that I’m enjoying this far more than I should.
Somehow, that always seems to be the case with him.
“Stop it,” I choke out, attempting to get away, but his grip holds firm, tightening around my throat until black pinpricks dot my vision.
“You don’t want this, baby? You don’t want to be full of my cock and discover a new religion each time I make you come?”
“You have a lot of faith in your abilities,” I croak.
He chuckles, as deep and dark as the ocean. “You need faith to be a believer.” He cups me between my legs. “And this pussy deserves to be worshipped.”
My eyes shutter as his hot breath fans down the expanse of my chest. Goosebumps rise and a shiver crawls down my spine.
His fingers pinch my nipple through the fabric of my shirt and bra, tugging hard and wringing a pained cry from my throat.
Yet, my body reacts without permission. I grind back into him, feeling the hard expanse of him pressing into my back.
The hand around my throat pulses, tightening almost to unbearable levels. I rise on the tips of my toes to decrease the pressure, but he doesn’t let up.
“Does it scare you?” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear. “Or does it make your pussy wet knowing that I hold your life in my hands, and I allow you to breathe?”
Blood rushes to my head, and fear begins to pump through my veins. Just when I think he’s not going to stop, his hand loosens, and I greedily suck in precious air.
But he doesn’t let me breathe for much longer. He twists my body around and backs me towards the wall beside the T.V., smiling viciously as I stumble away from him and towards exactly where he wants me to be. When I’m a foot away, he grabs me and slams me into the wall, pressing the entire length of his body against mine. Before I can take another breath, his hand is once more encircling my throat, and his mouth is on mine.
Just like he said, I let him consume me. Tears burn the back of my eyes as his mouth tears my lips apart, feasting on my tongue without permission.
I can’t do this.
I can’t fucking let him do this to me.
Ripping my mouth away, I push him back, but he doesn’t move a fucking inch.
“Stop!” I snap, struggling against him. “I’m not letting you do this. You just murdered dangerous people, Zade—which means they have dangerous friends. It's like Max all over again. You’re a monster.”
The hand still wrapped around my throat tightens before he thumps my head against the wall, ceasing my struggles.
“And you’re the sweet little angel that I’m going to drag down to hell with me,” he rasps, his voice deep and husky as he whispers his omen into my ear.
“I hate you,” I spit, glaring with all the disgust I can muster in my body. He just won't fucking listen.
He only smiles, the gesture mocking. “And I will never let you fuck me again, Zade.” I’m not ashamed by the way my voice wobbles. Let him hear how serious I am. It’s not fear making my tone erratic, it’s the animosity bleeding out from my soul.