Page 21 of Impure Vows

I catch a glimpse of her dark hair bouncing as she moves, her slender frame cutting through the sea of people. She’s trying to disappear, to blend in. But she’s a beacon to me, a light I can’t ignore.

A vendor calls out, "Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!" The smell of grilled meat mingles with the exhaust fumes and the distant hum of traffic. New York City, always alive, always moving. It’s the perfect hunting ground.

Aliyah ducks into an alley, a desperate move. I quicken my pace, my steps echoing off the brick walls. The alley is narrow, shadows stretching long in the fading light. She stumbles, her breath ragged, and I can almost taste her fear.

I let her run. There's a perverse satisfaction in watching her flee, knowing she thinks she has a chance. Her fear fuels my arousal, a raw, electric charge that courses through me, igniting every nerve. She’s quick, but I’m quicker.

It’s a dance, a game, and I’m the predator. Each step she takes, each desperate glance over her shoulder, only heightens my anticipation. I savor this moment, the power I hold over her,the inevitability of her capture. She can run, but she can't hide from me.

Aliyah’s head swivels wildly as she sprints through the bustling street. Her eyes pass over me multiple times, but she doesn't see me. I'm like the shadow in her nightmare, always there, just out of sight.

I quicken my steps, weaving through the crowd with ease. She darts past a vendor, nearly knocking over a cart of pretzels. The vendor shouts something colorful, but she doesn’t hear him. She’s too busy looking for an escape.

I grin. This is what I live for—the chase, the thrill, the power that courses through my veins. I can feel the adrenaline heightening my senses, making each moment sharper, more vivid.

Aliyah pauses at a crosswalk, her chest heaving with exertion. She glances over her shoulder again, her eyes wide with panic. She’s looking for me, and yet, she doesn’t see me.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I murmur to myself, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Keep running. Make it interesting.” The thrill of the chase ignites a fire within me, fueling my desire to catch her. I want her to feel the urgency, to know that there’s no escaping what’s coming.

She darts across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi. The driver leans on his horn, shouting curses out the window. Aliyah doesn’t stop. She’s driven by pure fear, and it’s completely fucking intoxicating.

I slip through the crowd, my eyes never leaving her. The city moves around us, oblivious to the game unfolding in its midst. Horns blare, people chatter, and the smell of street food, the exhaust fumes. It’s a symphony of chaos, and I am the conductor.

Aliyah stumbles again, her pace faltering. She’s tiring, but she pushes on. I admire her tenacity, even as I anticipate her inevitable surrender.

11

ALIYAH

Sunlight slices through shitty curtains, casting unwelcome beams across the dingy room. I pull the covers over my head, willing my heart to slow down, to stop its relentless pounding. Just one hour of sleep, that's all I need. But peace is a distant memory now.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I groan, reaching for it. Sophia's name flashes on the screen.

"Hey," I mumble, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Aliyah, you sound terrible. Have you slept at all?" Her concern is palpable.

"Not really. It's... complicated."

"Complicated? You've been running for days. What's going on?"

I sigh, sitting up and rubbing my temples. "I told you, I needed to get away. That man, he's... he's dangerous."

"And what? You think you can outrun him forever? You need to go to the police."

"No!" The word escapes before I can stop it. "Sophia, you don't understand. He'll find us. He'll find you."

"Aliyah. I care about you. You can't keep running like this."

I glance around the shabby room, the peeling wallpaper, the stained carpet. This isn't living; it's barely surviving. "I don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice," she counters. "Maybe you should come back. We can figure something out together."

"I can't risk it. Not after what he's done." I think of the packages, the notes, the twisted choker. My skin crawls at the memory.

Sophia's voice softens. "I miss you, Aliyah. I hate thinking of you out there alone."

"Trust me, I miss you too." I swallow the lump in my throat. "But staying here isn't an option. I need to keep moving."

---