Black often closes in around me when I don’t have her in my sights, caused by a mixture of panic and anxiety. I get dizzy, and my heart pounds in a way that should more than likely warrant a trip to a hospital, and it probably would if the problem didn’t immediately cease once I had her in my sights again.
When I fuck my fist to thoughts of her. To stolen images and pilfered videos of her working, breathing,existing—I see white. Pleasure, like I’ve never known, consumes me every single time. It’s gotten to the point that I know, without question, when I finally have my dick inside her…I’ll likely fucking pass out. And now, I can add a new color to my Rayvn spectrum.
Red.
The color of blood. The color ofhisblood.
A gurgling gasp rings through the abandoned, dark alley, bringing me back to the present. I blink, then blink again, focusing my eyes. The man’s face is dark purple, and his eyes are bulging. Apparently, I blacked out thinking about my Little Fox. My dick is pulising and aching in my jeans. Thoughts of her, combined with the damage I’m about to do to this guy have me seconds from blowing my load.
Violence makes me want to cum, now? My head cocks to the side as I consider the odd sensation.
That’s new.
“What should I do with you?” I murmur. I’m asking because I honestly have no idea. I’ve never been in this situation before. I may have violent thoughts, but I’ve never acted on them. Well, that’s not true. I acted on them a week ago when I destroyed that fucks car for putting his hands on my girl.
The blonde, dimpled idiot who plays golf and drives a Mercedes. How cliché can you be? Doesn’t matter. Cliché or not, he still crossed a line when he wrapped his arms around Rayvn in her office the other day. I don’t care if he was comforting her or saving her life; she’s not his to touch.
It took everything in me to not drive the 6 hours it would take me to get to her and blow up his fucking house—with him in it. Luckily for him,Jackson,I’d cooled off tremendously by the time I got to his sprawling home in his fancy gated community.Gated my ass.It took me less than a minute to hack the gate code and even less time to access his garage.
The songBefore He Cheatshad been on my radio as I pulled in like some sort of divine intervention granting me the inspiration to do what needed to be done. Hopefully, he gets the idea and stays the hell away from her. I will say, slicing my finger open to leave my message was a bit macabre, but I figured my horror-flick-loving girl would find it intriguing.
Originally, I’d only driven to Denver to send a warning to Jackson, but then I remembered how upset Ray was over that bitch, Addison, and her comments. That shit didn’t sit well with me. I considered fucking with her a bit more, but after observing her for only a short time, it was clear to see that nothing would piss the chick off more than messing up her pristine appearance. If I’d done what I did to Jackson’s car, she’d probably just buy a new one.
Women like her are all the same. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve never fucked with them before. She’s a conceited, stuck-up bitch who looks like a cheerleader and behaves like the campus mean girl. She’s the representation of everything I hate and the antithesis of everything I stand for. Everything I want in a partner.Fuck. Now that I think about it, I should have just killed her.
Damn, Nash. Calm the fuck down. You can’t go killing everyone who hurts Ray.
I scoff. Can’t I?
No. She’s a lawyer. She won’t want you if you leave a pile of bodies in her wake.
Shit. I release the guy from my grasp like he’s burned me, knowing my brain is right. I can’t draw attention to myself, and I can’t fuck this up with Rayvn. He drops to the ground like a sack of shit. His face is mottled purple and red. His lips are pale, and his body still. An intense wave of satisfaction surges through me at the thought that I killed him. That I defended what’smine.I did what needed to be done. I’m not the same defenseless, weak kid anymore that gets picked on and beat up. I’m not that baby that was worth nothing more than a hit of crack.
I’m rich. I’m brilliant. I’m successful. I’m stronger than ever before. More than that, I’m not alone, and I have something worth fighting for.I’m not him anymore.
Swallowing thickly at the realization, I bend down and bring a steady hand up to the guy’s throat, searching for a pulse. It takes a moment to find it, but when I do, I’m surprised by the disappointment that fills the pit of my gut like heavy rocks. Well, hell. All I did was knock him out cold. That won’t do. It’s not enough.
He needs to know. They all need to know. She’s mine.
The bitter, furious words swirl through my mind on repeat. The possession I feel for Rayvn Porter is unhealthy. It’s toxic, and apparently, it’s fucking dangerous. It’s also addictive, and I find myself leaning into it. Embracing it.
If this is the man I need to become to own her—to have her, then so be it. I’ll light her enemies on fire and burn them to the ground if that’s what it takes. I’ll be the Devil I told her I was and drag everyone down to hell in her honor.
I drag my gaze from the still passed-out idiot and scan the alley. Still empty. My eyes trail the surrounding area, seeking an answer or some sort of inspiration on what to do with him. I have to make him pay, but I can’t kill him. Besides my pocket knife, I don’t have any weapons on me. Unfortunately, I have other plans for that particular tool, and I’ll be damned if I sully it with his blood. My eyes land on a puddle of liquid, and an idea forms, causing a manic grin to spread across my face and my leaking cock to throb.
Pulling my lighter and joint from my pocket, I drop to my knees between his meaty thighs. I tuck the joint behind my ear for safekeeping and the lighter in my mouth, clenching it with my teeth. I pick his hands up and gently place them in the vodka, making sure not to jostle him or wake him up while I coat his palms in the liquid. Once satisfied, I drop them back on his lap and smile when his eyes twitch with restful awareness. You’ll be awake soon enough, motherfucker. Let’s see you touch what doesn’t belong to you when you no longer have working hands.
Tugging the lighter from between my lips, I give it a good luck kiss before flicking the trigger. I watch the tiny orange flame dance in the dark, reveling in the happy memories it inspires. The night this all began. The night my Little Fox reached outto me. Granted, I orchestrated the shit out of that but fuck it. Got what I want, didn’t I?
Smiling from ear to ear, I bring the flame down, hovering it just above his hands as I enjoy the anticipation. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for a strong wind to make your decision for you. Will you fall and plummet to your death, or will mother nature grant you another day on this fucked up planet?
As if brought on by my unspoken thoughts, a strong wind blows through the alley, forcing my hand forward and setting his ugly hands alight. Or, maybe that was just me being impatient. Either way, the results are everything I imagined and so much more. His hands light up like a stake on a pyre, and within seconds, he’s awake and screaming.
Before he gets carried away with his theatrics, I grab my joint and use his hand torches to light up. His wide, terrified eyes fly from his hands to me, and I have to admit, the complete and utterhorroron his face brings me more joy than I thought humanly possible.
“Sorry about this. There was no other way to remove her from your undeserving skin, so,” I shrug, taking a deep inhale from my joint. I slowly blow the smoke in his face, letting the heavy pause sink in. “I had to remove it from your body.”
His once colorful face is now a beautiful sickly shade of white as tears streak down his chubby cheeks. It makes me downright giddy. Pushing to my feet, I take another drag and step away. Jerking my chin at him, I grunt, “Better take care of that before they burn to the bone.”