Of course it was fucking Nathan.
I’d warned her before more than once to stay away from that pretty-faced bastard. The type who flirted with anything in a skirt and smiled like he owned the sun. I told her not to hang around people like him.
But there they were, walking side by side like a goddamn couple.
Just for a second.
And I saw red.
No, fuck that. I became red.
My heart started beating faster, but it wasn’t from fear anymore.
It was rage.
Boiling, black, suffocating rage.
My jaw locked so tight it felt like my bones would snap. My fists clenched by my sides, nails digging into my palms until I almost bled.
I stormed toward them like a fucking hurricane, and their smiles died the moment they saw me.
Kasmine’s eyes widened, but I was already standing in front of them.
“So this is why you were late coming home?” I barked at her.
Kester, I…” she started.
Too late.
I turned to Nathan and slammed my fist straight into his fucking face.
The impact was so loud and satisfying.
Nathan staggered back, hands flying to his nose as blood poured between his fingers.
“Kester! What the hell?!” Kasmine screamed, pushing herself between us.
“Don’t fucking touch me right now,” I growled. Heat rolled off me like toxic smoke.
I walked around her and charged after him like a rabid dog.
‘She was just walking me home, man! What the hell is wrong with you??” Nathan yelled, holding his face and glaring at me with watery eyes.
My fist collided with his face again. And again. And again. Until he fell to the ground, trying to shield himself, but I kept going. My knee ha ho ribs. My fists slammed down on whatever part of him I could reach.
He groaned, blood spilling from his mouth.
“Kester, STOP!” Kasmine shrieked, grabbing my arm.
I shook her off me with blazing eyes. He touched you!”
“He didn’t…! He was just…!” She tried to come between us again, and I growled furiously, grabbing Nathan by the collar.
“If I see you anywhere near her again, Nathan, I swear to every god that’s ever existed, I will end you, I snarled in his bleeding face
Nathan whimpered and coughed, blood dripping from his nose to his shirt.
‘You’re fucking psycho, man,” he spat.
“Yeah?” I raised my fist again. “Say it again.”
“Kester!” Kasmine screamed.
I paused, breathing hard, veins pounding in my head.
“You?” I pointed at him, barely restraining myself. “Don’t fucking come near her again. Ever!”
“Kester, stop it! You’re acting insane!” Kasmine cried, grabbing my arm, but I snatched it away.
I turned to Kasmine, dropped Nathan, and stood to my feet. “Go home. Now.”
She stood frozen with wet eyes and her mouth slightly open in disbelief. She stared at me like I was a monster.
Maybe I was, and I didn’t care.
“Kasmine!”
That did it.
She ran off, certainly pissed. Not that I give a fuck.
I watched Nathan wipe the blood off his nose, cursing under his breath.
“Next time, I won’t use my fist,” I told him.
Was I insane?
Maybe.
But she was mine.
Even if I couldn’t have her.
FIVE YEARS AGO.
KESTER.
It wasn’t working. I had done everything and I mean everything.
I’d bugged her phone, tracked her calls, read every damn text she ever recieved. Her computer? It was mirrored to mine. I could see what she saw, click for click.
I even installed keyloggers on her fucking laptop. I knew what she Googled. I knew what she deleted, I knew everything… I stalked her. No apologies. Every day. Every fucking step. Wherever she went, I wasn’t far behind, to make sure she wasn’t meeting up with any of those boys I warned her not to meet.
No more Nathan. No more James. No more smiley little fuckers in her life. I made sure every guy that so much as looked at her twice backed off and stayed away. I built a fucking wall around her.
I had successfully made every boy around her scared of her. She literally didn’t have any male friends anymore.
I watched her every fucking day through the hole on the wall, breathing her in. The other day, I even saw her attempt to give herself a little, curious rub around her panties, but she didn’t even know how to, or what her body wanted, so she gave up, clearly frustrated. She pulled her nightgown back down and curled into her blanket like she was embarrassed.
She didn’t know I was watching and that I was dying.
That view – that fucking perfect view of her on her back, hair spread on the pillow, thighs just barely parted – it almost destroyed me.
Fuck. It took every ounce of self control in me not to barge into her room and fuck her tight little pussy with my fingers until she begged me to insert my cock in there.
I almost lost my mind that night.
I’d imagined too many times, those trembling fingers of hers, replaced with mine. My hand forcing her legs apart with my voice in her ear, telling her exactly how to touch herself, or better yet, letting me do it for her.
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