Tyrant Stalker (Tyrant Dynasty 2)

Filling her ass, I finally force myself to pull out. I look at her then, really look at her, her body bruised and broken by the sheer force I fucked her with. Her puckered hole dribbling with my cum. Without even speaking to her, I know she's ruined. She'll spend the rest of her life looking for this. Searching for the same things I gave her tonight, for the looming darkness that will hang just outside her reach as long as she's alive. But she'll never find it again. Not without me.

I force myself to pull back as she opens her eyes with a groan. She must be in so much pain. I want to hate myself, but I don't. Not when it felt so fucking good to rip Dove's innocence away from her.

Now it's time for me to leave. I can't stay here, not after what I've done. I can't risk giving her false hope. She's already infatuated with me – what I just did will only make matters worse. I don't want to destroy her. I just wanted to take something beautiful and ruin it.

As Dove's broken gaze finds mine, I know I've succeeded.

***

I remember fucking her like it was yesterday. The day I took Dove's virginity, I didn't know how deep my obsession ran already. I would fight it for months to come. Months without knowing who the real woman I wanted was. But not anymore. Now, I was certain. Dove Canterbury is the one for me.

I wake up from the memory with a groan, my hand fisted around my cock. It's the next day – has to be. I managed to make it back to the motel and fell asleep in my clothes on top of the bedspread. My head is pounding and I'm exhausted.

Today isn't a Dove day, it's a workday, and I'm fucking dreading it. I have to talk to that old bastard Hodge, who will buy any bullshit I feed him. He still doesn't know I'm the reason his daughter is dead.

I don't regret many things, but I regret killing Marissa Hodge. She didn't deserve to die, but she fell victim to my own rage. I couldn't see straight back then. All that mattered was the red mist that descended every time I thought of my twin. Marissa was collateral damage. But Hodge still won't admit it to himself that I'm the reason his only daughter is dead.

Sometimes I think about telling him. The dark, vicious side of me wants to do it. Wants to punish this man who's only done good things for me. I'm sick like that. I take something beautiful and I twist it and work it until it's no longer pretty. I did it to Marissa. I tried to do it to June. And now I'm doing it to Dove – the only obsession I could never truly escape.

Picking up my phone, I see a number of missed calls from Hodge. I call him back, preparing myself for his cheeriness. It's such a sharp contrast to the black hole that replaces my heart, I need to mentally prepare myself for it.

"Nox, hello!" I was right. He sounds delighted to hear from me. That stupid fucker. If only he could admit to himself what I did. "Have you given any more thought to the exhibition?"

I groan, rubbing my temples. Of course, he would bring that up again. He's been incessant in his efforts to get me to have another show, right here in LA. But after all these years, I don't want to risk my twin finding me. He would kill me if he did. I'm sure of that.

"I don't want to do a fucking show," I grunt in response. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Nox, I –"

"No," I hiss. "Tell me some good news instead. Did any more paintings sell?"

Since everything went down, my work has still been selling, and I’ve been creating darker and darker things as time goes by. My art completes many macabre collections of loaded, private billionaires who keep their sadistic streaks hidden, unlike me. But my most dedicated benefactor died a few months back, and we've been having trouble moving canvases since then.

"Not yet," Hodge admits. "But they will, when we do the show. People want to know you, Nox. They want to see the man behind all these incredible works of art."

"Too fucking bad, because I'm not interested."

"It would really help," he reminds me. "I know you need the money."

I think about his words. I don't need the money, he's wrong. I've got enough saved up to last me at least another year or two, even without moving any more art.

"You don't want to sink," Hodge persists. "Now is the time to show yourself. Nobody will connect you to your old life, Nox. Nobody in LA knows who you are."