Page 5 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
“Someone can’t handle their alcohol. Maybe be more careful? You never know who’s waiting around for a woman to take advantage of,” I warn her. She has no idea the kind of seedy people that lurk around, waiting to prey on women just like her when they get caught off guard. Fuck, she’s lucky stalking women isn’t my thing—typically, at least.
“Right. So, get the hell off of me,” she snaps, yanking her arm from my grip before stalking away. I had forgotten I was still holding onto her at all. That sassy mouth, what I wouldn’t do to it. The sounds I’d like to hear come out of it as I?—
No. I can’t go there. I fuck my women and leave them. I don’t have time for the chase and that’s clearly what she would entail with a mouth like that. Despite it, I can’t help but wonder if it could be worth the trouble as I watch her disappear into the horde of patrons at the bar.
I decide against another drink—I may be in the business of killing, but I’d prefer to not kill myself, which is why I drink in moderation. That, and I need a clear head at all times. I can’t lose control, and while intoxication is so, so sweet to embrace, it makes the thin tether I have on my urges slip. We can’t have that. Bad things happen when the voice in my head, the one that craves violence, takes over.
I glance back to the bar and don’t seeher.Her name is a mystery but it would only take a few keystrokes to figure it out if I wanted to—which I don’t.I don’t.
But what if I do?
One quick little look around the club for her won’t matter, right? And what if I can be the good guy tonight? Save her from someone worse? That could keep the devil sitting on my shoulder quiet and justify some of my behavior. Maybe even cool some of the ever-brewing violence inside of me.
I scan the bar one last time before forcing myself through the undulating bodies of the dancefloor.God, I fucking hate the club.I slide against patrons sticky with sweat, feeling elbows jam themselves into my sides from flailing arms.Disgusting.
Then I seeher.
With her back to me, she’s dancing sensually to some song by the Arctic Monkeys, I think. She’s not only beautiful, but sexy, her hips swaying to the beat, moving her pert ass. I want to touch her, fuck her, please her. I want the release it would surely bring me. But I can’t. I shouldn’t.
One dance can’t hurt though. Right?
I make my way over to the woman who’s stolen all of my attention, quietly sliding up behind her before anyone can try and take her from me. Firmly pressing my body up against hers I grip her hips in my hands, holding her against me so she can’t turn around and see who I am. I know if she took one look at my face she’d run in the opposite direction and that would be a damn shame because God, she feels so good and warm, and she smells fucking divine.
She leans into me, moving that perfect ass against my now achingly hard cock. I haven’t been drawn to someone like this before, not typically caring for physical touch unless it’s during the act of sex itself. Anything likethisis foreign and I’ve always liked it that way. I don’t want to get close to anyone; I don’t want to feel anything other than the quick rush of release when I’m with a woman.
Feelings are too much.
Feelings are for people who care, and people like me don’t care.
Ican’tcare.
The song has changed a few times now, and she’s still dancing against me. My blood is hotter than fire and my cock is hard with want,with need.She starts to shift away from me—attempting to turn around, I presume. Letting go of her quickly before she can catch a glimpse of my face, I disappear into the crowd. She can’t see me and whatever that was cannot go any further. She’d surely be pissed if she knew the asshole she ran into earlier was the one groping her on the dance floor.
I leavethe club and head to my car, watching as an Uber pulls up to the curb, and theresheis, walking out towards it. A tempest with the hips of a devil. Just my fucking luck. It’s like this is my destiny for the night. No matter how hard I try to avoid her, to ignore her, I can’t. Fate keeps placing her in my path. At least she had enough sense to not drive herself home. I could smell the alcohol on her, mixing with her perfume to form something heady. I can still smell her now, and holy fuck is it intoxicating.
I can’t deny the overwhelming urge to follow her. It’s nearly one in the morning and I should go home but, against my better judgment, I find myself putting my car into drive and staying a ways back from the Uber. Enough to stay on their tail, but not enough to be suspicious.
I follow them for about twenty minutes across the city to a less desirable part of town. Streetlights thin out and large new build homes morph into dated ranches. The Uber pulls up to a small apartment building with peeling white paint. I stay down the street with my lights off and watch her get out of the car before walking inside. A couple of minutes later, I see a light come on from an upstairs apartment window. I follow the outline of her shadow through the curtains, wondering what she’s doing up there, and if she’s all alone.
I feel a sort of excitement coming alive in me, different from the usual rush of bloodlust, but a similar pulsing energy. The kind of feeling that comes when I am on someone’s trail and deliciously close to ending them. But unlike all the others, she doesn’t have to worry. She doesn’t have to be afraid of me because there isn’t a hit on her head. No, I would never hurt her. I just want to observe her from afar, get to know her, watch her,learn her.
I suddenly need to know everything about her. What does she do when she’s alone, is she as consumed by me as I am her?
Nearly an hour later, I watch as her bedroom light flickers off and assume she’s going to sleep. I stay and watch anyway, trying to gather my thoughts. Trying to justify my behavior. But there isn’t an excuse for this, this isn’t me. I don’t follow innocents as there isn’t any reason to, only those who are evil and deemed unworthy of life by others in competition with them. I don’t waste my time like this, and I certainly don’t let women worm their way into my head. But I can’t stop. And so I sit down the street from her apartment for two more hours until I finally relent in the early hours of the morning.
I start my car and slowly drive towards her building, looking up into her window as I pass by. Wishing I could see her, wishing her curtains would be open so I could gain any sort of glimpse into her space, just to know her a little more. I have her address though, and I shouldn’t search for her, I shouldn’t find out who she is, but I will. And as I glance back in the rear view mirror I see her light flick on again.
CHAPTER FIVE
MAEREN
Fuck.I amsotired. I shouldn’t have gone for my morning run because work is going to be absolutely brutal now. I put three miles in before the sun was up today and now I’m stretching my aching muscles as I cool down. My runs are usually five miles but after my drinks and late night, followed by restless sleep, this early morning has absolutely killed me. I’m not as young as I used to be, though I’m far fromold, it just feels like it whenever I go out. I can’t drink all night and then rally myself for class or work in the morning like I could at nineteen.
After I shower and eat breakfast, I check my phone and see a message from Sage about last night.
Sage: OH MY GOSH I AM SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO LEAVE LIKE THAT BUT I WASN’T THINKING.
Oh yeah girl, you were thinking alright, just not with your head,I muse as I chuckle and roll my eyes. I can never be mad at her.
