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multiverse (mul·ti·verse): a theoretical reality that includes a possibly infinite number of parallel universes.
I may be dead inside, but I have a purpose—at least for now.
What am I going to do? Waltz right in there and tie her up? I have no real reason to kill her. Yet.
Why is she just staring like that? Shouldn't she be calling the police? Running away? Grabbing a gun, for God's sake? Do something to defend yourself, little lamb.
Another day, little lamb. I’ll be back to finish this another day.
I felt the same way the first time I murdered someone. Perhaps this is the same thing. A new addiction to feed. I don't even know her name, but I will soon.
Even serial murderers have fears. Mine just happens to be a five-foot Italian woman from the Bronx.
When she returns with my receipt, I write out a two-hundred-dollar tip and gather my things, rushing to follow my little Stardust down the road.
“Hello, Stardust,” a deep, commanding voice greets, startling me out of my thoughts. His tone is confident and direct. Where I’m floundering, he knows exactly what’s happening here. “Wh-who are you?” I ask dumbly. Who are you? As if that matters. He’s the guy who’s going to kill you, that’s who he is.
“I don’t repeat myself. That’s rule number one. And take off those hideous fucking boxers before I rip them off you. I don’t ever want to see you in another man’s clothing again, do you understand?”
I've considered just killing everyone involved without trying to get answers out of them. I've even imagined a thousand ways to kill her.
I'm so close to buying her a new vehicle for the simple fact that this one belongs in a junkyard.
I need an escape. One that has no connection to this clusterfuck. That's why I've clung so tightly to Stardust.
My plan was to drive back to New York and work on it at my apartment tonight, but seeing Stardust this morning threw me off. She's so much more interesting.
The fucking things I do for this girl, I swear… She needs a new job.
“You're going to get in that tub and you're going to relax, or else I'm going to rip your clothes off and throw you in there myself.” “Who the hell even are you? What are you?” Those eyes cut over to me. “Me? I'm your worst nightmare, little Stardust.” “Why do you keep calling me that?” “Would you rather I use your real name, Jovie?”
“Point taken. You know about me,” I finally push out through the fear. “I know everything about you,”
“Then it's only fair that I know something about you…” His brow quirks up. “Do I look like the type of man to bargain with?”
“One answer for every piece of clothing,” I offer, fully expecting him to decline. He surprises me by rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why can't you just let me do this one nice thing for you?” “Is that a yes?” “Fine,”
Once she's fully submerged, I walk around the edge and crouch behind her. “Relax, little lamb. Let me take care of you,” I whisper against her neck, earning a small moan that seems to hit me in all the right places.
“You should be afraid of me. I could hurt you… In fact, I probably will. I’m not the hero in this story,” I warn, shrugging off my black hoodie to prevent it from getting any wetter.
she simply stares up at me with that frustratingly indistinguishable look I’ve seen her wear countless times. Her eyes track my movements as I grab her shampoo from the floor and squirt it into my palm. I can’t stand that I don’t know what’s going through her head. She should run. I wouldn’t even blame her for it. Of course, I’d chase her. But at least then I would know she possessed some semblance of self-preservation.
“I’m not afraid of dying. I've already done that. I’m afraid of not living.”
I'm afraid of not living. So am I.
she lifts her head out of the water and faces forward again. I clear my throat, massaging the shampoo into her scalp before I unintentionally reveal anything else to her. She relaxes into my touch, moving her head around to give me better access. It's somehow the most erotic thing I've ever experienced with a woman. The way she blindly trusts me to care for her, even after I’ve broken into her home and violated her privacy. I can’t decide if she’s absolutely insane or just as dangerous as me. The most unsettling part is that I don’t give a fuck either way.
I'm fighting every instinct I have to rip her out of the water and throw her onto the bed so that I can finally have my way with her. But patience is a virtue, and forcing myself to use restraint will only make it that much sweeter when I finally consume her.
He's like an impossible puzzle I want to solve—a riddle I want to crack. It pisses me off that I haven't.
“I want you,” he says in a deep, lusty tone as he releases me from his hold and drops me onto my bed. Just like before, the words come out like he's admitting something taboo. Like, for some reason, he can't stand the fact that he holds any desire for me. You and me both, Stalker.
Perhaps it's the desire burning in his stare every time we meet. Maybe it's the fact that I'm not entirely convinced he's real. Or maybe it's because I'm completely fucked in the head from all my abandonment issues, and the idea of anyone wanting me is enough to make me spread my legs and hand myself over to them. Even if they're likely a psycho, stalker, killer. Okay, that's probably it.
“You'll be my undoing.” “I'm already undone,”
“I don't think you get it, Stardust. The second I coat my tongue with your cum, you're going to be mine. No other man will ever touch you again and live to talk about it. When I eat this pussy”—he glides his finger down my slit again, and I shudder out a breath—“I'm taking ownership of it.”
He's right. No other man will compare to what he just did. That shit terrifies me worse than anything else he's done. I'd chase this high to the ends of the earth.
“Tell me… who do you belong to, little Stardust?” I don't even hesitate to answer. “You.” “That's right, baby.”
“This pussy is mine.” His hands move up my body in a long, teasing caress that has me dripping all over again. When he reaches my throat, his fingers wrap around either side. “You're mine.”
Wordlessly, he brings me back to the bathroom and lowers me into the warmed bath. “Relax.” It's all he says before turning his back and leaving me alone.
“No, Eliza. I’m not fucking with you,” I mutter condescendingly. “I need you to look into any open remote position we have. If there isn’t anything, make one up.” Perhaps it would be better to offer her a job in the office. Get her to move out to New York, so I can really keep an eye on her.
“What kind of qualifications does this person have? Do you have a resume?” “No, I don’t, but it doesn’t matter. Just find something.”
I don’t care, though. It’s worth it to pin Stardust into one spot so I don’t have to drive all over this shitty ass town to keep track of her.
“It's not nothing,” he spits out the word like it's spoiled food against his tongue. “These look like fingerprints. Who did this to you?”
GIGGLINGSHHENDHDNEJE
“Who. Touched. You?” he demands in an angry, gravelly tone.
hehehdnenejAHEHEHDHDNZNSJEsmdnsmskxjd
“My asshole ex came to visit me at work.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer. A low growl reverberates in Bash's chest as he leans toward me again, closing the safe distance my blunder put between us before. All amusement is gone from his expression, and in its place is pure rage. “And he hurt you like this? Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Has he laid his hands on you before?” Bash asks, breaking my train of thought. I don't have to answer when my eyes fall to the floor. “I need your words, Stardust. Tell me that this fucker has hurt you worse than this, and I'll have all the permission I need to handle him.”
“I told you, you're mine now, and I don't like when people touch my things. Anyone with the balls to do so is going to deal with the consequences. Do you understand?”
“Please drop it,” I beg when it's obvious he wants to say more. After a long, pregnant pause, Bash finally offers one stiff nod of agreement, and I know that's all he'll give. He blows out a breath and pushes the covers back over me, then climbs into the bed on top of them. “What are you doing?” I stupidly ask, because this seems like a new step in our odd little relationship he's taking without my knowledge or consent. “I'm laying down,” he states simply, like it's not the weirdest fucking thing that this stranger has once again walked right into my house while I was sleeping and shown
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“Would you like to spread your legs for me now and give me a taste? I thought it might be uncouth of me to lick your pussy so soon after your ex scared you, but I'd be more than happy to chase him out of your thoughts with my tongue. All you have to do is ask, baby.”
I can’t believe Stardust ever settled for this. That she even believed this is what she deserved. She deserves the entire night sky and every exploding, magnificent star floating inside of it. No, fuck that. She deserves the universe.
My girl is so much bigger than all of this. I hope one day she allows me to give it to her.
I need to get laid. But in order to do that, I have to allow her to touch me, and I’m not quite sure she’s ready for that.
He'll be an easy hunt. I just need to find time to do it without her knowing it was me. Or perhaps, it would be beneficial to wait and use it as an opportunity to show her the true monster that I am. Maybe I'll even tempt the darkness in her and let her help. Not yet, though.
and head in the direction of the place I actually want to be in. To the person I want to be in.
