Vicious Little Darling (Love So Cruel #3)

3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

JAXTON

M y God, she was terrified. I tip my head back and continue to laugh, unable to stop it as the sound pierces the night. This girl isn’t my type in the slightest, but fuck, I’m so hard right now. I could explode in my jeans. This is the first time I’ve felt like this in years. She had pepper spray. I continue to cackle as I slide away down the alley, watching for any light to kick on in the building. I know that there are only six apartments in this old, run-down building. I saw that as she slammed the door shut in front of me.

Come on, I think as I circle the building, watching and waiting, my cock so goddamn ready to blow it aches. Where are you, baby?

I don’t know why I followed her and her friend—or boyfriend—out of the bar. I don’t know why the fact that she turned me down turned me on so much. And what’s the story with that rich-bitch boy she was with? What woman, in her state, turns down a man who so obviously has money? It was strangely satisfying, the way she patted his arm and left him standing in rejection.

It was something I would’ve done.

Grinding my teeth, I circle around to the back of the building, peering upwards. I need to know where she is. I could break in tonight, fuck her, and snuff the life right out of her—or I could indulge in new fantasies and put off the satisfaction for a while. As my mind toys with the idea, a sliver of light catches my attention.

I peer up and see the blinds parting slightly on the back, west-facing apartment. A face is peering into the night, searching for someone… As I take in the features, I know who it is. I creep backward into the shadows as she gives me a view of her full face.

There you are, baby. There you are.

My cock throbs for my attention, and I slide my hand beneath my jeans, grabbing hold of it. I take my time stroking as she bites down on her bottom lip, and then disappears from my sight, but it doesn’t stop me from continuing.

“Gotcha,” I imagine myself saying, threading my fingers around her pretty little neck. I squeeze my shaft like I’d like to squeeze her throat, stifling a groan as I start to pump my hand again. I come hard and fast as I imagine her lips turning a shade of blue with death written all over her. Cum fills my hand, and I wipe it away on the T-shirt beneath my hoodie.

Looks like I’ve found my next victim, and she promises to be far more entertaining than the others.

Now that my head is clear of lust, I creep back around the building to the entrance. There’s a keypad with a code to enter the old building, which is a surprise in this shitty part of town. I’ll have to lurk nearby to figure out the code, although I doubt it’ll be anything difficult. I could jimmy the lock, but I don’t know if there’s an alarm—and I don’t want to go setting that off just yet.

She already knows I’m here. I don’t want to up her fear too much. Not yet, anyway. As I wander up to the keypad, I hear footsteps coming from behind me, and I quickly drop my mask, shoving it into my pocket.

“You don’t live here,” I hear a scratchy female voice say from behind me. “You need to get the hell away.”

I turn around to see a short, African American woman with white hair and mean eyes. She is holding a taser. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Sorry,” I say. “I have a friend who lives here.” I give her my gentlest, I’m a good boy tone.

She doesn’t waver. “You look like a pompous frat rat who needs to get back to their side of town.”

Wow, okay. Now I’m offended.

“You shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgement,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “I really do have a friend who lives here, and I just wanted to make sure she got home safe.”

“Oh, I highly doubt she needs your help to get home safe, you fuck twat.” She steps toward me, triggering the taser with a crackle. “I’m gonna count to five and then I ain’t gonna count no more.”

I sigh. “Got it.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “My bad. I won’t bother you anymore, ma’am.” I slink off into the darkness, glancing over my shoulder as I go. She’s still watching me, waiting to make sure I leave.

It would figure that Ember has a watchdog for a neighbor. I breathe out a sharp sigh as I trudge off, not sure how she got the idea that I’m a frat rat. I was never in a fraternity. My putrid, abusive mother would never have allowed for her fuck-up of a son to grace the upper crust society. No, only she was allowed to do that.

I spit a wad of saliva onto the sidewalk as I make my way back home, ignoring the pull to return to Ember’s apartment. It’ll take time to figure out her routine, her habits, and exactly how I want to torture her. Something about Ember makes me want to really get under her skin. She comes across as a tough girl—as if she thinks she can handle me.

She has no idea who she’s dealing with. A little pepper spray won’t stop me from spreading her legs and devouring her pussy. It won’t stop me from taking everything I want from her. Her buff friend and watchdog neighbor won’t stop me. They don’t stand a fucking chance.

I’m like a mountain lion; quiet and calculating. She’ll never know when I’m creeping in the shadows, intent on stalking her. She’ll only see me when I want her to see me. The rest of the time, she’ll think she’s losing it, going insane. She’ll isolate herself out of fear. Maybe she’ll go to the police, who will pretend to give a fuck and tell her to keep a journal.

But it’ll only send her further into the depths of insanity.

And then, I’ll strike.

I mull over a plan as I make it to the fourth block from her apartment complex, hanging a left to make my way back to the bar. I’m curious to see whether her brawny friend returned to the bar, or if he really called it a night. He’s a hard bastard to read, and I can’t tell if he wants to fuck her or marry her.

Either way, he's unlikely to get either. In fact, I’m going to take his options away from him. The only ceremony he’s guaranteed to attend for her is her fucking funeral, and I’ll be at that one too.

My phone rings in my pocket, and I grimace, fishing it out and staring at the name on the screen. Of all the damn times, why would my mother be calling me right now? I close my eyes, before taking a deep breath.

“What?” I answer, my tone cruel and cold.

“Son,” she slurs, her drunken tone as obvious as a whore’s STD. “I don’t understand why you never come home anymore. You know that I just want to see you, right? Can’t you come home for once?”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll bet you’re not even home, Darcy.”

“Don’t call me by my first name,” she seethes, her voice dropping off as I hear a man’s hushed tone somewhere in the background. “You know I want you to call me Mom.”

“And you know good and well that I don’t want you to call me Son,” I snap at her. “Yet, somehow you still call this goddamn phone and try to convince me that I was ever anything to you other than your personal punching bag. Go fuck whoever you’re with and leave me alone.”

“Ted is a nice man.” She burps at the end of her sentence. “He’s going to take care of me, and maybe if you would share some of your inheritance, I wouldn’t be stuck having to rely on the kindness of—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. “I owe you nothing for the way you treated me. You’re nothing but a narcissistic bitch.”

“And you’re nothing but a fucked up, weak, pathetic loser.”

I cackle, my voice carrying into the night. “You know what’s funny about that, Ma?”

“Nothing,” she growls. “You’re a disgrace. Your father would be so disappointed if he knew how you’d turned out.”

“Well, there’s only one person to blame for that,” I pause, ignoring my hammering heart. “And that’s the vagina I came out of.”

With that, I hang up the phone, fighting the urge to chuck it across the street, as I arrive at my high-rise apartment building. It took my father twenty-five years to find me, and then the bastard went off and had a heart attack. All I have to show for it is a shit ton of money and a vicious problem with sadism.

What a hand of cards I’ve been dealt.