Page 35 of The Prey

“It’s not a threat.” I grit out. “If you don’t believe me, do it and see what happens.”

He only grins, his smile slightly unhinged. He has to be at least twenty years older than Elyse. All the things she told me about this fucker come rushing back to my mind, giving me even more fuel to end his pathetic life.

I might hurt Elyse with my words, but everything I do is to protect her. This fucker doesn’t want to protect her. He wants to hurt her, and I will end his life before I let that happen again.

Leaning down, I tug the knife from my ankle sheath. Expertly, I roll it over my palm and flip it so the blade points toward Yanov. “Are you sure you don’t want to fuck around and find out? It would save me some time.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, I can’t play your little kid games right now. I'm under orders at the moment, but don’t worry. The day will come soon enough when I’ll return to take her from you. Maybe I’ll let you stay alive long enough to watch it happen.”

“The day will never come fuckface. I might look naive, but I’m a lot harder to kill than you think. If you want Elyse, it will come at a cost, and I don’t know that you’re willing to die for her.”

That only earns me another shrug, then he peels back one side of his coat to flash the gun I knew he was already hiding there, but it's not the gun I latch onto. No, it’s the shiny surface of a badge glinting on his belt.

Well, that complicates things. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, but you will, soon. In the meantime, make sure you take good care of my girl, and let her know I’ll be coming for her soon.”

It's a shocking development, yes, but it also fills me with a different kind of anger. Ely told me what happened, but she didn't give me this one very important detail.

That he’s a fucking cop.

“I warned you what will happen if you step on my property, so when you show up here again, don’t be shocked, because police badge or not, I’ll end your life and deal with the consequences later.”

“I guess we'll see what happens, won’t we?” He slowly backs away from the gate, and I track his movements.

“We certainly fucking will.” I try to play it off like I don’t give a fuck what he says, but keeping the mask of indifference in place is difficult as fuck when I want to murder him with a glare alone. I stand there watching him disappear down the driveway. I want to make sure he’s gone before I go back inside the house.

Dealing with this fucker is my top priority.

My phone vibrates with an incoming text, and this time, when I pull it out and open the message, it’s the group chat I share with my best friends. I haven’t been active in the group for weeks now, and I know it’s my own fault for pulling away from them. Guilt flares deep in my chest. I haven’t shared anything with them about my grandfather, Elyse. What my future plans are. I know I could go to them, but they each have their own shit going on, and I don’t want to burden them, nor do I want Bel to find out how bad everything has gotten.

Still, I read through the messages, smirking, wondering when things became so fucking hard. Life. School. Work. To be a kid again. Mmm, then again, my childhood wasn’t any better really. I’m dragging my feet by the time I march back up the driveway, my vision hazy. Fuck, I guess I didn’t realize how exhausted I was. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the mix of alcohol and lack of sleep are in full effect.

I blink, but the world moves in and out of focus. I make it through the door, the ground beneath my feet shifting. It takes substantial effort to keep my eyes open, but somehow, I manage to fight off the exhaustion just long enough to get inside.

I stumble through the first door I find, the world spinning around me. I recognize the room as my grandfather’s office, and I slump down onto the long leather couch. I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia. A reminder of the numerous nights I fell asleep on this very couch while my grandfather and or my uncle worked. Even with the memory of what happened in this room, it still feels like home. I let my eyes drift closed, and I’m assaulted by her. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape her sassy mouth and piercing blue eyes.

Ely. My perfectly innocent fucking Ely.

Nails sink into my skin, raking down the side of my cheek. The smell of soap, clean skin. Her scent fills my nostrils. Hot breath fans against my throat, and I grip her by the hips with both hands and press her warm cunt against my throbbing cock.

Yes. This is what I want, but I’ve been too stuck in my own head, too afraid to do anything about it.

“Elyse…” I whisper her name.

She’s perfect. Just like I always knew she’d be.

16

Elyse

After the London trip, the days blend. I bounce between nonstop cleaning and schoolwork with an occasional catnap in between. It takes me a good portion of the week to catch up on all the housework I missed when I was away for just a couple of days, but I guess the silver lining in being busy is that I don’t see much of Sebastian.

I shut down the part of myself that misses him.

Instead, I try to remind myself a million times over that regardless of the reason for it, what we did was wrong, and I have no right to be fantasizing about sleeping with my boss—yet I can’t pretend I didn’t enjoy what we did. Even if the entire reason it happened was because of Yanov.

Yanov. Even thinking of him makes me nauseated. I had assumed that when I disappeared, shipped away by my father once again, he would conclude that something happened to me and move on. My father had stupidly promised me to him as his bride, but that was years ago, and several thousand dollars in debt later, he had to use me to pay for his debts. I wasn’t complaining about the circumstances, though. For the most part, I was content living here, happy even. I didn’t live in fear anymore, and even if Sebastian was a bully at times, he never treated me like my father did.

Was it too much to hope he thought I had died? Fate apparently had other plans because now he knew I was alive and well here. That discovery only ignited the embers of an obsession that had never burned out. Yanov isn't just a stalker. He’s worse, so much worse, and I hope I never have to tell Sebastian about the things he’s done to me.

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