I learned a thing or two today.
I didn't like these events. Not the people. Not the loud voices. And definitely not that motherfucker.
And it was truly a strenuous task to not jump down the fucking stage, and slit his throat right then and there before cutting off his finger he was touching my little bird with. The rage boiled within me and I hated this new feeling.
It was concerning I wanted to already see blood when I just caused mayhem two hours ago.
Patience, I told myself. It would be so easy, so gratifying to end him now, but no. Not here. Not in front of all these eyes. There was a time and place for everything, and his time was coming. Soon.
"You're glaring," I heard Kyle mutter, and I tore my gaze from the crowd where my little bird was. She thought she'd blend in with all these useless humans, and I wouldn't notice her. I could see her in the back, trying to hide behind the mundane faces, but she stood out to me like a beacon.
There was no way she didn't know I'd be here. Wasn't that the reason she wore that dress? For me, so that I could take it off of her later? My fingers itched with anticipation. What were the chances if I kidnapped her right now? Surely she'd scream, maybe even beg.
The thought of her pleading, those beautiful eyes wide with fear was enough to get my хуй semi-hard. It would be so easy, just a quick move, and she'd be mine. But then the chaos, the witnesses. I sighed.
I was in the mood to kill them all today, though it was easy, but I didn't want to dirty my hands.
Yet the image of her in that dress, the way it clung to her curves, was a sweet torment. She was daring me, challenging me. My little bird wanted to play, and I was more than eager to oblige.
I forced myself to relax, to wait.
The anticipation made the hunt more thrilling.
Soon, she would be alone, and vulnerable, and then I'd make my move.
She wouldn't escape me; she never could.
The bastard once again touched her and she definitely looked uncomfortable.
A dark scowl curled at my lips. "I'm fucking blind," I grumbled as the woman with chopped bangs motioned to the table. When I turned my head to look back at my ptichka, she was gone.
Her futile attempts at hiding amused me. She didn't realize that no matter where she went, no matter how deep she tried to bury herself among the sheep, I would always find her. She was mine, after all. My prey, my little bird.
To my irritation, that dude was gone too. It only irked me. The thought of him touching her, thinking he had any right, made my blood boil. How dare he? How dare she?
I prowled through the crowd with my eyes.
Thirty minutes passed, and she was still nowhere to be found. My patience wore thin, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. How dare she think she could evade me? Did she not understand the depth of her actions, the lengths I would go to claim what was rightfully mine?
The fucking fest continued around me, oblivious to the storm brewing within. The laughs, the music, the meaningless chatter-all of it grated on my nerves.
I envisioned dragging her from the shadows, her screams echoing as I claimed her, marking her as mine.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I fought to maintain control.
A dark thought crossed my mind. Was she with that fucker? The idea sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through me. That pathetic worm, daring to touch what belonged to me. The thought of his hands on her, his presence near her, was unbearable.
I committed a homicide for my little bird, and she dared to pay me back this way?
Killing Dontello would create havoc, but he was a threat, a pest that needed to be eliminated. She didn't understand, couldn't understand, how dangerous he was. Stalking her, watching her every move, plotting to sell her off like some piece of meat. The bastard thought he could get away with it, but he was wrong. Dead wrong.
I was not like him. My motives were pure.
I did not stalk her, I just kept an eye on her, but it was for more than just protection. It went beyond mere attraction or infatuation; it was a twisted addiction. The way my inner demons quieted the moment she appeared was both mesmerizing and unsettling. Her presence was a dark drug, soothing the chaos within me. And yet, despite the danger, I craved it.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
No one could protect her from me. No one could take her away from me. She was mine, and I'd kill anyone who tried to change that.
I began to pace, my eyes scanning the crowd more frantically. If he was with her, I would find them both. I would tear him apart limb by limb, make him watch as I claimed her, showed her what it meant to be mine. The image of his blood mixing with her tears was almost comforting, a balm to my burning rage.
But she... she would need to learn her lesson, too. She would need to understand the consequences of trying to hide, of thinking she could escape me. Her punishment would be severe, a reminder that she was mine, body and soul.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. Patience, I reminded myself. She couldn't hide forever. The hunt was still on, and I was relentless. My little bird would soon learn that there was no escaping a predator like me. And when I found them, they would both pay for every second of this torment.
"Track her phone, Kyle," I muttered as the announcer droned on, the crowd of idiots cheering. On second thought, I should just wipe them out, and kill them all.
Kyle fiddled with his phone, tracking her. Good. There was no time for these insects. My ptichka was out there, and she couldn't hide forever.
But then Kyle's hand froze on his phone, and he looked at me. I read the dread on his face before he could say anything, and my jaw clenched. It was getting hard to maintain my composure. I gritted out, "What happened?"
He looked at me and hesitated. "You wouldn't like to know."
I knew he could sense my glare. "Fucking spit it out, or do you want me to cut your tongue too?"
He swallowed hard. "She... she's going back to Texas."
The fury that surged through me was almost uncontrollable. Texas. I almost forgot she was a dumb American.
Instead of feeling angry, my lips curled into a smile, but the anger simmering inside me was disturbing. The very idea of her thinking she could flee filled me with a twisted sense of amusement. Did she not realize there was no escaping?
My mind raced with dark possibilities. Should I drag her back, kicking and screaming? Should I cut her legs so she could never run again? Break her arms to remind her of her place? The thought of her helpless, at my mercy, was intoxicating. The things I'd do to her were endless, each one more satisfying than the last.
Every scenario played out vividly in my mind. I could already see the terror in her eyes, the realization dawning on her that she could never escape.
On second thought, why was I so infatuated with her? A woman shouldn't become a stone in my path. Women, after all, were just good for a fuck and nothing more. Maybe if I fucked her once, she'd get out of my head. Or maybe it was just that I hadn't fucked a good cunt in a while.
The anger simmering beneath my calm exterior was disturbing, even to me.
I could feel it bubbling up. The dark tide threatened to overflow.
But she had to see it, too, didn't she? The way she looked at me like she wanted me. She was just playing hard to get, testing me, waiting for me to take what was mine. That's what women did. They wanted to be claimed, even if they pretended otherwise. They needed someone strong to make decisions for them, to dominate them. Show them their place.
She was a challenge, a puzzle to be solved. And I was always good at solving puzzles.
Yes. Once I had her, once I made her submit, she'd understand. She had to. There was no other way.
She'd see that I was what she needed. I could already imagine it: her struggling beneath me, the realization dawning in her eyes that resistance was futile.
It would be beautiful, poetic even. A wild animal brought to heel.
I would take her, and she would love it, whether she wanted to or not. And then, maybe, the anger inside me would finally be quelled.
Kyle's eyes widened at my smile, but he said nothing. He knew better than to question my sanity. As if sanity was ever on the table, to begin with.
It was for the weak, the boring, the unimaginative. Fuck her, if she thought I was forgiving then she hadn't seen enough of me.
She'd soon get the full experience: the wild, untamed, unapologetically insane version of me. And oh, would she love it. Or not. Either way, it didn't matter, did it? She'd come around. They always do. Or they don't. Either way, it's all part of the hunt.
Texas. I grinned. Well, it would not be her sanctuary. This would be her prison, and I… would be the charming warden of her fate.
My little bird thought she could fly away, but I'd clip her wings, and make her understand the true meaning of captivity.