Chapter 6
I can’t stay away.
I’ve tried to. I’ve fought it. I’ve been good.
But my bad bone is broken in and I can’t hold off any longer - I need Emme. Need to see her, touch her, smell her … Taste her. Which is the reason why I’m following her to work today.
And it’s not the first time.
I have her habits down to a T. She doesn’t take advantage of her driver at all, instead choosing to walk from the house where she now lives with Blane to the building where they both work.
Blane is usually there hours before her, getting an early start, but Emme leaves at around 8.30 a.m. I’m ready today, already across the street where I know she’ll pass me in a couple of minutes.
I’m nervous - actually nervous.
I’m like an addict taking a swig after years of abstinence, and it feels damn good to do so. I crumple the newspaper I’m reading into a ball, throwing it into the nearby trash can, when a change in the air alone lets me know she’s near.
I don’t know what it is exactly.
A certain scent, a change of the atmosphere.
The sound of her heels on the pavement.
Click-clack-click-clack.
I force myself to turn around and show my back to her, even though it’s the hardest thing I’ve had to do all day. I have to fight the red mist so I don’t jump out at her, pulling her in to me.
But what happens next makes my heart race, too.
Just as she is passing me, I hear the clamor of her heels slow down and she seems to hesitate for just a split second when she passes me, like she senses something. She continues on her way almost immediately, but that one moment, that small pause … it gives me hope.
She still remembers me.
She still knows who owns her.
I turn around in time to see her turn the corner, and I follow seamlessly in her step. If I were to die now, I would be a happy man - as long as I got to take Emme with me.
I come up just close enough to see the skin of the back of her neck erupt in goose bumps. I let myself breathe her in, taking in her sweet floral scent. I can sense she knows someone is behind her, so I stop by a flower vendor next to the street.
She crosses the street, as if she’s afraid to look behind her. But when she’s on the other side, she turns around hesitantly, slowly … and our eyes meet.
Pure joy overtakes me when I see the fear in her eyes as her gaze meets mine.
I see her shiver and I feel the sensation repeating in my own body. Just then, a truck drives by, stopping at a red light and cutting the connection.
I take my chance and run into a side alley, ducking behind a dumpster where she’ll never spot me. My eyes are still glued to the spot where I saw her last, and my heart beats faster as I watch the truck drive away.
As soon as it’s gone, I see her, frozen to the spot where I saw her last. She’s glued to the pavement, staring at the place where I was a second ago. Her mouth is gaping open in shock, her eyes glassy as she tries to convince herself I was a mirage.
I take it Blane hasn’t told her it was my art opening they came to.
I smirk as she goes on, stumbling when she takes her next step. She’s obviously feeling confused and it feels fucking good to know I can still rouse a reaction out of her.
Damn fucking good.
***
I follow Emme to work, watching her walk into the building. After that, I walk around aimlessly, my thoughts filled with her, only her …
That silky hair, the creamy skin. Her perfect breasts, her tight pussy. All I need.
I end up next to a local college, where people are lounging on the lawn and doing some studying in the sun. I don’t know why, but I find pleasure in observing people - not like a normal person would. I don’t watch them, trying to imagine the stories of their lives. I look at them, imagining how best to hurt them.
And it just so happens that I spot the perfect victim.
She’s another Emme lookalike, but so different once again.
She’s younger, about 18 I’d say. Her hair is shorter than Emme’s, in a bob brushing her chin. She’s got those striking green eyes Emme has, though not quite the same shade. And a banging body.
However, she’s different than young Emme ever was.
We were best friends when we were kids, and I still remember her like it was yesterday.
Naive, sweet, soft … So innocent.
This girl has a certain hardness to her, like a knowledge of the world. I’m sure she’s had sex before, given head and swallowed come. And when our eyes meet across the lawn and she offers a lazy smile, I know she’s a goner.
I don’t even have to walk over to her. She says goodbye to her friends and strolls to me on the lawn, offering what I’m sure she thinks is a seductive smile.