Chapter 38 THE TORMENTOR
\[IXORA'S HOUSE\]
"Are you planning to wear a long face forever?" Nelly asked, climbing down the stairs with Ixora.
She came to New York today, during Aunt Maria's burial, in the cemetery. She followed Ixora home to greet her parents, but they weren't around, unfortunately, and she was about to leave.
"We were close," Ixora muttered.
"She can't come back from the dead." She paused, then continued. "Being part of Hazel's plan already made her a betrayer," Nelly said, her words still slow.
Ixora looked at her and smiled.
"I guess I should just move on. It was meant to happen. What about Aunt?" Ixora asked.
"She didn't come with me," she adjusted her glasses, checking the wall clock. "I will get going now," she said.
Ixora hugged her lightly while she left.
Ixora stared at her until she was out of sight. Nelly has always been the cute one. She doesn't talk much, but she's always there.
She wanted to go back upstairs when the air suddenly grew thick. The environment became cold. She felt like somebody was in the house...not somebody... Drexton.
She rushed outside and checked him, but couldn't find him.
Turning around, she jerked, her heart thudding loudly against her chest.
His one leg was placed on top of the other, while those cold, piercing gazes were on her.
"W... What are you doing here? H... How did you get in?" Ixora asked, almost stuttering.
After that night, he forcefully took her first kiss. They haven't seen each other. He was the one who told her about Aunt Maria's body and burial. He didn't even attend her funeral, and now he is inside her house. How he came inside her house, she had no idea, but if he tried to do anything she wouldn't mind doing the unthinkable.
"For my price, number two," he said, dropping the leg on the floor.
Ixora batted her lashes.
For all she could remember, he kissed her, and that was the price for his stupid hug.
"I owe you nothing, Drexton Blackthorn," she said, trying to sound defiant, but his gaze was capable of melting her.
Suddenly, he stood, his height almost reaching the chandelier, which cast its light on his body. His shadow looked so tall.
Ixora gulped, taking a step back.
Before she could even count how many steps it would take him to reach her, he was already in front of her.
"Stay away from me," she said, and turned to run away.
She couldn't even take four steps when, without moving, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her back to him.
Her head met his chest. Slowly, she raised her head, her eyes turning into a glare as she met his empty eyes.
"Let me go," she seethed, trying to wriggle her body out of his grip.
Drexton watched her struggling to release herself, without moving.
Using her other hand, she began hitting his chest.
"You are hurting me," she said.
But he stayed quiet, staring down at her as she stubbornly hit him. It felt like a baby was rubbing his chest, not a single pain.
The more she struggled, the more his grip tightened around her, and that alone was hurting her.
But she was not ready to stand still, and he, too, wasn't ready to let go of her.
Her breathing began coming in short gasps, and she stopped hitting him. His dark gaze and her light gaze locked onto each other.
"What other price do you want? Didn't you kiss me without my permission? I owe you nothing," she spat.
Drexton's eyes were still on hers, and he could see the darkness in her. It was slowly trying to crawl its way out.
"My price," he said, his tone dismissing all the words she had said so far.
"Take off your clothes, play pet."
Ixora's eyes stayed glued to his for a second. Two. A cruel reminder of the day they played chess. This was the same way he had said those words. Same tone. Same look in his eyes, as if those words were a curse rather than a price.
"You. Are. Nothing. But. A. Pervert." Her teeth were clenched tightly. "Tormenting me is no longer enough, and now you want to see my nakedness," she said.
He loosened his hold on her arm, slowly releasing it.
She stepped away from him.
"If you don't leave him, I promise to call the cops and tell them you are sexually assaulting me."
Those words. Sexual assault. They went to a special part of his brain and carved themselves. Not only does she look like her mother, but her words and actions, too.
"Go ahead," he said, taking slow strides towards her.
Ixora chuckled lightly. "I know you have manipulated the cops. Leave my house or else?" she said, her tone daring, her eyes growing darker.
Drexton's eyes twitched as he kept walking towards her.
She was daring him only because she thought she had a...crushing her poor spirit wouldn't be bad.
"Else?" he said, still walking near her.
She put her hand behind her back and drew out a gun. She pointed it at Drexton, her steps backward.
"Leave my house, or I'll end your life," she said, curling her fingers around the trigger.
Drexton got to her front in the blink of an eye.
He grabbed the hand that was holding the gun and pressed it to his chest.
"Shoot me," he said, pressing her hand harder on his chest.
Ixora's eyes went wide, but she was able to hide it.
Her hands were trembling on the gun as she tightened her grip around it.
"This is the only opportunity you have, Ixora," he pushed it harder, causing Ixora's hands to tremble more.
What was he doing?
She tried withdrawing her hand, but he didn't let her. His grip was tight.
She didn't bring the gun to shoot him.
She got it the next day after the kiss from the black market, only to threaten him to stay away from her. She couldn't stain her hands with blood by killing him. She thought he'd stay away from her once he saw the gun, but he was forcing her to shoot him.
Then there's another part inside her head that's telling her to shoot him. He had wronged her a lot. She should just end his life and be free of her own life. A life she wasn't even sure if she was enjoying, not when he was creating another image of herself, a self she couldn't even recognize.
"Pull the trigger. Put an end to me. Your life will surely go back to normal. Think about the consequences of not pulling the trigger. I will haunt you—your reality, dreams. I will be your very own nightmare," he said, his voice growing thick with darkness.
Was he trying to end his own life by her hand? Why was he encouraging her to shoot him? Maybe getting the gun was a bad idea.
Ixora's eyes met his own. Her eyes turned misty. The same man she had been crushing on and even stalking for four years hated her and swore to ruin her.
When she cries, he tells her to cry again. He enjoys seeing her this way—broken, in pain, hurt, confused, and he causes every single one of them.
On the other hand, he does not let anything happen to her. He hurts her, but wipes her tears when another person does the same. He was there for her, and if not because of him, she would have been in the hospital by now undergoing countless plastic surgeries.
How could she kill him because of all the times he had brought tears to her eyes? He was her tormentor and also her savior. Maybe if she hadn't stolen from him or even crushed on him, their paths wouldn't have crossed.
The plan was to scare him with a gun and not kill him. But his words, if she doesn't pull the trigger today, he'd haunt her in every part of her world and life.
He does not fail his promises, nor is she going to compromise herself.
She can't kill him.
She can't pull the trigger.
She just can't.
Her hands trembled greatly as she slowly loosened her grip on the gun.
The gun slid down her hand and landed with a clattering sound.
Drexton released her hand, took a few steps backward.
His eyes were still on her as he walked away like a ghost.
Ixora closed her eyes, his scent filling her nostrils.
The scent he'd always leave behind whenever he walked away in silence. The silence would leave Ixora battling with unending questions.
She had gotten used to his silence, but his way of tormenting her. Could she ever get used to it? Or would she try to do another thing since a part of her wished she had ended his life?
That thought caused her eyes to fly open as she traced her gaze to the gun.
Getting the gun was useless.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out and, surprisingly, the first text her eyes went to was—
The tormentor. A name she saved under Drexton's number.
She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the text came from Blake.
Blake: Wanna go with me to the movies tomorrow?
Ixora smiled and sent a yes reply.
But beneath her lay a feeling that something bad might happen tomorrow.