Page 1 of Only in the Dark
Kieran Harlowe
Olivia looked so peaceful when she slept, like someone conjured from my dreams. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, catching the moonlight, the pink of her bedding slightly reflecting in its light blonde tone. When she wasn’t asleep, her beautiful long curls rested on her ample chest.
Sometimes she’d mumble in her sleep, her brow twitching as if lost in a memory, but then she’d relax again, her lips parting slightly, her breathing slow and steady. I could watch her like this for hours, the smell of her jasmine and lavender perfume calming me and making me feel at home. She had no idea how beautiful she was—how fragile and trusting. That was the problem.
Being in Olivia’s room while she was asleep was becoming a common occurrence. She would have remained safe from me if she weren’t so predictable. I installed video cameras last week when I knew she was out, and I had her routine memorized by now. She never expected her nightly tea to be drugged. Why would she? She was too sweet and trusting, which was why I had to intervene. Isawwhat happened. She didn’t understand it wasn’t her fault, but she needed to.She needed to leave that prick. I had to be the catalyst to make it happen, no matter what it took.
Olivia Mercer had become my obsession the moment my brother brought her home and introduced her as his girlfriend. If he hadn’t, I would’ve never known what he was doing to her. I couldn’t see why she stayed with him. He often refused to stay over—because he was with other women, pressured her into sex when she didn’t want it, and he was a boring douchebag. The kind of man that materialistic women married to feel secure while they excused their husband’s cheating to keep access to his finances. Olivia seemed like she was using him to pretend she had the idyllic life, and I wondered what secrets she harbored underneath. So far, I hadn’t discovered anything. I would, because she couldn’t hide anything from me. We were soulmates, and soon she’d know it.
Her tiny, purse-sized Chihuahua finally perked up from her spot at Olivia’s feet. I reached down and scratched her head, handing her the nightly treat I gave her to earn her trust, then petted her tiny head. “You’re such a good girl for your future daddy, aren’t you, little one? Not so good at protecting mommy, though. Maybe we’ll get a Dobermann.” She growled at me. “Or not. Sheesh, girl.” Pixie might’ve had a small body, but she had a big attitude. And yes, I knew her dog’s name from watching her. She talked to Pixie often, telling her how good she was and snuggling together.
Watching her every move through a camera feed or standing in her room could only tell me so much. I needed to bring her closer to me, but without her knowing who I was until I was certain she wanted me. I had the perfect plan, and it started tonight.
We were one week from Halloween, where I’d attend the annual party at Club Obsidian. Only, it wasn’t a normal club. It was a sex club with private and public rooms, and I knew how to draw my sweet little Olivia toward the dark side. It meant exposing my brother and inevitably hurting her, but I had a feeling she didn’t care for Matthew too much, and soon I’d prove my theory.
I moved back to Olivia’s side before I had to leave her to sleep, enact the second portion of my plan, and head home…where I’d probably end up watching her from my laptop, on my bed. I didn’t need to paint the rest of the picture of what I planned to do. In fact, I reached down and grabbed the pair of panties she had left on the floor, shoving them into my pocket. They’d be the perfect aid in my endeavor. I needed her scenteverywhere.
Caressing her cheek with my fingers, I said my goodbyes for now. The corner of her lips lifted into a small, sleepy smile. Even though she didn’t know it was happening, her subconscious enjoyed my gentle caress. I knew she had told a friend she felt like someone was visiting her room in her sleep, and she hoped it was Matthew, but reality was about to hit when she woke up in the morning.
“Goodbye, good girl,” I said to Pixie, scratching her head. The little beast was growing on me. One day, I wouldn’t have to leave her room. I’d be in the bed with her, Pixie cuddled between us.
Before I left her room, I grabbed her phone. I watched her put in the passcode enough times to memorize it—not that it was hard. Olivia made the rookie mistake of setting her passcode as her birthday. I’d teach her security one day, phone and home included.I searched through her settings until I found her phone number, then programmed it into my own. I knew I’d need to contact her in the future, and it was easier than trying to get my hand on my brother’s phone. He guarded it so closely, you’d think it contained government secrets.
I grabbed the bag I had left by her window when I snuck in, bringing it with me downstairs into her kitchen. I set up the flowers in a vase—a mix of daisies, carnations, and lilies, all of her favorites. I heard her complaining to my brother that he never did anything romantic, and that he didn’t even buy her flowers like she had begged. He had scoffed and told her she was making a big deal out of nothing, that he’d take care of her in the future and didn’t need to buy her flowers when he’d buy her a house and a car. Olivia loved her house, car, and career. She took care of herself and didn’t need him as anything other than a pawn to show off to God knows who.
I’d rather be the pawn she could show off.
And I wasn’t against killing my brother to get what I needed, but I didn’t want to piss off Mom. She loved the idiot, for some bizarre reason. Maybe because he was like our dad—rich, pretentious, a predator, and a cheater.
I was nothing like him. I took everything I saw him do and decided I didn’t want to be like him.
Next to the flowers was a note I had made on the computer since I couldn’t risk her knowing my handwriting. I set it neatly on the counter, folded with her name on top. Tomorrow, she’d know of her stalker’s existence, but she wouldn’t know I’d be watching her from the safety of my house.
I had a secondary plan to finish, which wouldn’t take long. Taking out my phone and opening the camera, I grabbed pictures of her pantry and refrigerator to gather her favorite groceries and what she needed replaced. Tomorrow, I’d have them delivered for her. I needed to show her I could be the one to truly take care of her and give her the things she wanted. Most stalkers weren’t as thoughtful as me, but I wasn’t as fucking crazy as them. I’d never hurt my Olivia like they hurt those they claimed to love. I’d kill for her, burn the entire world down for her, but I wouldn’t lay a malicious finger on her. I needed only to bring her closer to me. Once I unmasked myself, she’d understand that she lovedme.
Olivia Mercer
My eyes flew open as I lurched upright, chest heaving, sweat slick on my skin. The nightmare felt more real this time than ever before. I could feel the ghost of his fingertips grazing my cheeks, smell the cedarwood of his cologne permeating the air. I wasn’t a deep sleeper until a couple of weeks ago.
Several nights a week, I jolt awake in the darkness, my heart pounding. The shadows seem to shift around me, and a faint, lingering scent of unfamiliar cologne hangs in the air. My skin prickles with unease as if the room still holds the presence of someone who doesn’t belong there.
I wish it were just a feeling, but it seemed all tooreal.
Nothing happened to cause a change. My routine had been the same for years—reading a paperback book an hour before bed, drinking a chamomile tea to relax, and doing a three-step skincare routine.
I looked at my chihuahua, Pixie, who was yawning and stretching near my feet. If someone had been in my room, Pixie would’ve been barking. She was small but mighty—at least in her eyes. She was my protector.And she barked obnoxiously, so I knew no one had been there, even if my gut was arguing. It was in my mind. When I told Matthew my worries, he told me it was in my head. That, of course,Icouldn’t have a stalker. It wasn’t like I did anything exciting. My past was my past, and I left it there, needing to start over after how close I came to a life in jail.
I thought about calling him, but he either wouldn’t pick up or wouldn’t care. He’d groan and tell me everything was fine and I needed to sleep. I wasn’t dumb. I knew what Matthew was up to and why he would ignore me for hours and never stay over. Why I stayed with him wouldn’t make sense to a normal person, but I wasn’t normal. I needed a normal, boring guy to make my life look complete to the outside observer, much like how male serial killers were often married with kids. No one could expect anything odd from Olivia Mercer.
I chose to dial my best friend’s number instead. She’d be here in an instant, so I could sit comfortably on my bed until she got here and cleared the area. She’d take me seriously, always. Sarah was an angel sent from hell. I know that phrase didn’t make sense, but it did to anyone who knew her.
“What do you need? Does the situation require a gun, knife, or sword?” she questioned with a voice that didn’t seem like she had slept yet. Knowing Sarah, maybe she didn’t. It was a little after two in the morning, and she worked at a nightclub doing bottle service four nights a week. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. Sarah was the reason I chose to move to Chicago. We grew up together outside of the city, but I moved away to Texas at a young age. She said I’d blend in with the millions of residents here, and two years later, she was right.
I met Matthew downtown when he was walking to his job. He followed me into a coffee shop, told me I was the classic kind of beautiful, and asked for my phone number. With the way he chased me, I thought he might be a decent guy.
“Calm your tits, Lovebug. Nothing too crazy. Maybe your knife. I just…I feel like someone was here again. Can you come clear the place?” Sarah wasn’t scared of anything. She’d run around my house with a machete, yelling for someone to come out if they were hiding, and I’d happily let her. I thought she was braver than Matthew, considering he didn’t come out to make me feel safe.
“I’ll be there in ten,” she said, hanging up our call immediately. I had no doubt she’d be here in less time. She lived nearby, and she had no qualms about driving like a race car driver when she deemed a situation worthy. She had a key for times when I needed her, since I could rely on her more than Matthew, clearly.
