Page 9 of Stalked

He’ll be mine soon—soon enough.

Kyler stands behind me, with a fresh bruise and a split lip. The bags under his eyes tell me he hasn’t been to sleep yet, but that’s his own damn fault. Though I can’t say much—I haven’t either. After leaving Gabriel’s apartment, Emilia called saying she had details on Billy’s whereabouts, which brings us to now. Sitting across from Antonio and his son Maddox, the Italian Mafia, who from Emilia says has been keeping tabs on Billy.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Mr. Volkov. I wish it were under better circumstances. What was the reason again?” Antonio grins over at us. Gritting my teeth, I refuse to take the bait he’s trying to wave in our faces.

Ever since I was little, I overheard Salem and her hatred for the Italians. No matter who came into power, it was always ‘fuck them’. Granted, it was for good reason. Antonio gets on all of our nerves, but he came into power after Salem killed Luca. Antonio is some long lost brother of Luca, and a whole other story.

“Billy,” is all I say, taking a sip of my whiskey.

“Ah, yes, this Billy.” Antonio chuckles, nudging his son, who looks seconds from murdering all of us on the spot. Not sure who pissed in his cheerios, but he needs to reel it in before Kyler knocks him down from his pedestal.

“I need his location.”

Biting my cheek, I hold their stares as Antonio mulls over whatever is going on in his tiny brain. I swear he does this shit on purpose, and there is nothing I hate more than people who waste my time, especially when they already knew the answer.

“I need something from you first… let’s talk about Salem Gray.”

My eye twitches, knowing this isn’t going to end well. Many have tried to take her out, only they end up six feet in the ground.

7

Gabriel

Thirty-nine paint brushes.

That’s how many my stalker has left behind. I should be completely freaked out, especially after this morning when I woke up to find not only my blanket covering me, but multiple other things didn’t add up.

I fell asleep after having the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life. That blue dildo, my absolute favorite one, felt so good. Thinking about the suit man, thinking what he would do if he found me spread out on the bed. I swore I heard someone grunting alongwith me, but before I could even clean myself up, I fell asleep. That post-nut clarity sure does hit differently.

When I woke up a few hours later, my cum was dried to my chest and stomach, the blanket covering me. The oddest thing though, my favorite toy wasn’t on the floor where I knew I’d dropped it. No, instead it was cleaned and back in the shoebox under my bed. And that same white paint brush next to my phone.

I shouldn’t like it. I really shouldn’t. But fuck did I.

A loud bang breaks me from my thoughts. I don’t have time to look up before I’m shoved against the table, my side hitting the corner. I scream out in agony only to have a fist plowed into my face. My head snaps back, pain exploding everywhere. My knees give out, crumpling to the floor, my vision blurry. I can feel the blood drip from my nose.

I need to get up. But I can’t, my legs feel too heavy to carry my weight.

“I told you I wasn’t stupid.”Oh, oh fuck.What is Billy doing here? And most of all, why is Billy punching me? “You know I saw him. I saw him leave your apartment this morning.”

What is he talking about? Who is he talking about?

I try to scoot back, try to do anything, but I don’t get two feet before he kicks my stomach. Not stopping there, he kicks my side, my ribs screaming.

“Stop! Ohmygod,pleasejust stop,” I cry out, my arms wrapping around my stomach, pleading for this to all stop. I can’t go through this again, I can’t.

“The thing is, Gabriel, you lied to me. I saw him leaving your apartment. I know you told him something and I want to know what you told him.”

“Who?” I yell, my arms holding my stomach as if that’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

“The fucking suit! Who else do you think I’m talking about?” he screams, kicking me in the back once more. I grunt from the force, crying out in pain again. “I told you! I fucking told you if you said anything I was going to kill you. I told you! Now, I’m going to fucking murder you!”

His boot connects with my face; pain explodes behind my eyes. My limbs lock up, unable to do anything. I can feel the blood dripping down my face, blood coating my tongue.

“I should’ve known you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut,” he growls, and another round of kicks hit my face and stomach.

I don’t know how long I lay like that, him hitting me. I scream and plead with him to stop. I can’t take this much longer.

I’m dying.

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