Tyrant Stalker (Tyrant Dynasty 2)

Text messages, calls, video calls. The soup kitchen, the plant nursery, and one number that stands out from the rest. I thought I had nobody left, but Raphael is here to prove me wrong. He's texted, called. The last text was only thirty minutes ago. He hasn't forgotten about me. He's worried about me. Unlike Nox, he wants to take care of me.

With shaky fingers, I hold my phone and stare at the last message he sent. He said he's coming over to the house again to check up on me. Fear squeezes my chest tight. That was thirty minutes ago. He'll be here any second. But am I brave enough to see him? I can never tell him what happened, I already know that. I'm not going to start a witch hunt against Nox, as much as what he did has destroyed me.

His punishment will mean nothing to me unless Nox himself is the one to seek it out.

He needs to realize he must repent for what he's done.

Until then, I'm done with the sick bastard.

The doorbell rings and I pick myself up from the couch robotically, stumbling over to the front door. I take a deep breath and open the door.

"Dove!" Raphael makes a move to embrace me but I take a step back, avoiding his inquisitive gaze. "Where were you, Dove?"

"Doesn't matter," I say, my voice devoid of emotion. "I'm back now. Not going anywhere again."

"I was so worried. Why won't you look at me?"

I close my eyes firmly, counting to five. Then, I open them and look at Raphael, the man who's only ever tried to help me since the very first day I met him. And yet I betrayed him. I chose the monster lurking in the shadows instead of Raphael. And now I'm paying for that awful mistake.

"Thank you," Raphael mutters. His dark eyes spark with worry and desire. There are so many things I wish I could tell him, but I'm uselessly tongue-tied, unable to broach the subject of my disappearance. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," I nod, stepping aside to let him in. I've opened some windows but the air in here is still stale. My flowers and plants are desperately in need of water.

I put the coffee pot on and busy myself by watering the plants. I don't say anything and neither does Raphael. He just follows me as I move through the house, as if watching over me to make sure nothing bad happens to me again.

Fifteen minutes later, we settle on my couch, warming our palms on cups of warm coffee. Fresh air flows through the open window. My heart and head both hurt and I'm not ready for the conversation I know Raphael wants to have. I'm already dreading it. There's nothing I can tell him, anyway.

"Where were you, Dove?"

"I had to leave," I mutter. "It doesn't matter."

"You're pale as a ghost. What happened?"

"Nothing." I shake my head vehemently. Perhaps if I deny it out loud enough times, I'll start to believe it myself. "I'm back now. Everything will go back to normal."

"I missed you."

I risk a look at his handsome face. He's wearing a look of sincerity and I'm desperate to believe him. I want to know there's at least one person out there who has my best interests at heart, who doesn't want to hurt me, destroy me. I want to believe Raphael is here purely for me – to make me feel better.

"I missed you, too," I lie. The truth is, I haven't even thought about him. Not until I saw all the missed calls and texts.

"Are you going to be okay here on your own?" he asks. "You can come stay at my place for a while."

"No," I shake my head. I need to be alone, though I won't say that aloud, so I don't hurt his feelings. "I have my plants to take care of, and I'll have to head to work tomorrow, see if they'll take me back."

"I understand," he nods. An awkward silence falls between us, but Raphael breaks it soon enough. "Do you want me to leave you alone, Dove?"

"No," I say, surprising myself as much as I'm surprising Raphael. "I need a friend."

"I can be your friend. But, Dove..." He reaches for my hand and I fight every instinct in my body screaming at me to pull away from his touch. "I still like you… Want you."

"Okay," I nod. It's the most I can muster the courage for. I can't give him false hopes, promise anything other than to be his friend.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not for a while," I realize out loud. "Do you want to order some takeout?"

"Sure." If Raphael is surprised by the fact I've offered he doesn't show it. I scroll through my phone and we order together. Things feel surprisingly normal as I click on the TV and we settle in front of it, waiting for our food. This time, the silence is pleasant, companionable.