A Stalker's Consequence

●Harley●

Alec hovers his sweaty, naked body over mine, and I find myself getting lost in the light yellow ring around his dark, dilated pupils, gazing intently into his eyes. Having just experienced an overdue, intense orgasm, we both lie here panting and satisfied as small tremors rock our bodies. God, I love this man. I still get butterflies whenever he flashes that smile at me like he is doing now.

He removes the wet hair from my face and kisses my cheeks softly and sensually, letting out seductive groans as he does so.

“Marry me, Harley Rain Savage, please, baby?”

He holds my face in his hands and stares down at me, waiting for my answer to his proposal. He already knows my answer, but I can tell he wants me to say it regardless.

“Yes, Alec Rocco Carson. I will marry you, babe.”

His lips claim mine in a passionate, heated frenzy, and the next thing I know, he rolls me on top of him and slams me on his cock in just one brutal motion.

●

All of a sudden, my eyes fling open, and I bolt up in bed. Sweat from my vivid nightmare and withdrawals cover my body in a thin, sticky layer, making me highly uncomfortable. I look around at my room, noticing the spot beside me empty, and Alec isn't there...

It was just another dream... Relax, Harley. It's okay...

With another storm brewing outside and the lights flickering off and on, I pull on one of Brixton's sweatshirts he left here, grab my cigarettes, and navigate to the roof of the building. The roof has always been my happy place. My place where I can go to get away from all the shit bothering me. I climb the stairs and step onto the roof as a cold gust of wind blows through, almost sending me flying backward into the door. This used to be me and Alec's spot, but when he died, it became the spot where Brixton would always seem to find me.

I should've fucking known.

I take cover under a thin awning and light a cigarette after popping a couple of oxy in my mouth and washing them down with a cold beer, just wanting to feel completely numb. A flash of bright lightning resembles the flash of a camera going off in my eyes as I tilt my head toward the gloomy sky, Brixton popping into my mind.

*flashback*

“Yo, Trig, what the fuck are you doing?”

Trigger and I hear the door to the side of the building slam shut and turn our heads in the direction of the sound, seeing an angry B storming towards us. When I hear his deep growl, I flinch and move backward. I flick the ash from the cherry of my cigarette before placing it between my red, full lips and sucking as he watches hungrily. Goosebumps prickle all over my body as a chill runs down my spine, causing me to shudder. A seductive, devilish grin appears on his face as he takes my notice of the sight of him in his fucking underwear. Despite his desire to entertain this scenario, he shifts his hungry gaze from me to Trigger, giving him a deadly, knowing look that wipes the smirk from his face.

“What’s the problem, Br-”

Trigger is the first one to say something, breaking the intense, chilling staring contest they were having, leaving me stuck in the middle all types of confusion.

"Don't say my fucking name, Trig. She doesn’t need to know what the fuck it is. And you know exactly what the fucking problem is, Trig. We just talked about this shit.”

“What if Miss Harley wants to talk to me? Huh?”

He responds coyly, raising his brow to B in defiance.

“Go inside, little bird. It’s way past your fucking bedtime.”

“Fuck you, B. You're not my fucking father."

He steps into me and reaches around, one hand cupping my ass, then yanking me into his chest.

"I'm not your father, but I can be your daddy." He fires back flirtatiously

"What the fuck, B?" You tell me to fuck off, but you're seeing her?"

He lets me go and steps away, savoring the aroused look on my face that's obvious as fuck.

"Man, I was fucking with her. Just shut the fuck up and come back in, or you're not going to stay here."

“Okay, I'll spend a few days with Harley.”

I pause briefly as I try to process what he just said. Knowing what will happen if we stay together, disgust and jealousy course through B, causing his hands to shake frantically.

"Yeah, B, Trigger can stay with me if he wants to."

I hear myself bite back venomously, inching closer to him.

"All right, I'll throw your shit in the fucking hall. I'm going back to fucking bed. "Fuck this shit."

My gaze is drawn to "B's" tight ass, following his seductive movements as he walks away, stomping toward the back door.

Who is he to fucking tell me who I can and can’t talk to? I don't even know what his name is. I know absolutely nothing about him, and he knows absolutely nothing about me. Trigger, his friend, stands beside me, his shoulder pressing firmly against mine. Our fingers brush up against each other, and he tickles his against mine. Still, my eyes are glued to the ink etched into "B's" skin, and they follow it like a map, getting lost in the array of colors and designs that overwhelm my vision. He's absolutely breathtaking, but he's also a complete fucking asshole. I turn to face Trigger as he walks into the building, now wondering what the fuck I agreed to.

“Was it just a show for B, or were you really serious about letting me stay with you for a few days?”

He moves his fingers up my arm before stopping when my hip is within his reach. My gaze wanders over his body, noticing the unique designs he has inked into his skin, and my mouth begins to water. I'm not surprised by the words that slip from my mouth as I graze my hand down his chest, given the amount of alcohol and drugs in my system. He pulls me in by the waist as he leans against the brick.

“You can stay with me for a few days.”

“Thanks, Har. Appreciate that, girl.”

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and the scent lingering above me brings me out of the flashback, my gaze locking with Scotty's, of all people.

"Are you alright, Har?"

"I wish people would stop asking me that. No, I'm not alright, Scotty, so please, leave it alone."

"How's your knee doing?"

I ask, trying to change the topic and get the focus off of me for a change. I look down at the bandage, noticing he's finally walking without crutches. Right after I broke up with Brixton, he went after Trigger and shot him in a fit of rage, which landed him behind bars for at least a year. Trigger has been staying with me ever since, now that Brixton is safely behind bars where he can't hurt me or stalk me.

"Does it sound bad that I still really miss and love him? Does the stalking bother me that much?"

"It's feeling better. I still can't believe he fucking shot me again."

"Wait, again?"

"Brixton's shot you before?"

He lifts his shirt and proudly points to a scar from a bullet right above his right pec, Brixton's name in script tattooed right underneath it.

"Yeah, when we were fifteen. Fucker got charged with attempted murder and spent his teen years in Juvie. He got out when he was 18 and found you shortly after."

Thunder booms and lightning strikes, and an odd, eerie feeling washes over me as if I'm being watched again. I scan the city below and see nothing, but I shiver from a deep chill anyway.

"I... I need to go in.."

"Har-"

Anxiety starts to brew inside of me, making panic and fear start to attack my thoughts as my mind drifts into the black hole that has me firmly in its grip. I run back inside, ignoring Scotty's cries, just wanting to make the pain stop from the loss of Alec and now the loss of Brixton. I squat down and pull the box out from under my bed while Trigger is, I presume, in the bathroom because I heard the door, and I snatch a few things out of it. I use a tiny airplane bottle of vodka to wash down my prescribed Valium, and as the pills slide down my throat in the stream of the burning alcohol, I can already feel myself calming down. My body unwinds, my shoulders sag, and a sigh slips from my mouth. My thoughts become completely blank, and a haze fills my head, obscuring all the unpleasant thoughts and memories as I do. I don't want to remember Alec or Brixton or relive the events that transpired. It's too painful, and… I notice a shadow in the hall light, and Trigger clicks his tongue at me as he stands in the doorway. I turn to him and shrug, not knowing what else to do. Much to my surprise, he enters my bedroom and hops on the bed, making himself at home. I still remember when I freaked out on him for lying in Alec's spot the first time. I remember how angry and hurt I was that he had laid there. And then Brixton came along and completely took it over, trying to get Alec's memory to fade not only from my bed but from my mind too. Feeling the pressure of everything becoming too much, I get to my feet and kick the box back under my bed, trying to avoid Scotty's domineering gaze.

I turn away from him, intending to leave the room, but he wraps his fingers around my wrist and yanks me into his arms.

I try to push off his chest, but he tightens his embrace, refusing to let go as he tries to search my eyes for a hint of what’s happening to me. His gaze is soft, and his eyes are kind as they roam my face while his thumbs brush away the tears from my cheeks.

“Harley, baby girl, what’s the matter?” His tone is smooth like butter and soft like cotton, washing a sense of comfort over me as he speaks.

“It’s nothing, Trigger. Don’t worry about it.” I assure him, desperately hoping he buys into the whole facade I’m trying to convey.

"I'm Scotty. Trigger is what the streets call me, and you know that, baby girl."

"I know, Scotty, I always forget. I knew you as Trigger for so long, it kind of just stuck."

"But I like the name, Scotty. It suits you. I can see it."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I like how it sounds coming from those pouty lips of yours."

His heavy, dark eyes are filled with a cloud of desire as he seductively tugs on his bottom lip while sucking it between his teeth.

He sits on the bed and pulls me into his lap as if this is nothing out of the ordinary for us. But it isn't. I try not to move around too much because of the slight boner he has pressing against my ass, but he tickles the delicate skin on my thighs and makes it difficult to remain still.

"Har, talk to me."

"Is it Brixton?"

"Yeah, it's just everything I guess."

The way his hands run down my body sends an intense burning over my skin, one that has all the cares in my mind flying out the fucking window. When I turn to face him, he tightens his hold on my waist and uses his other hand, dragging his fingertips across my collarbone. He licks his lips eagerly and casts his eyes around my face before settling on my lips. I'm not sure how it happens, but our lips fuse in an instant and our tongues twirl in a heated battle. A slight moan escapes my throat, traveling directly into Scotty’s as he cups my cheek and deepens the kiss.

Before I knew it, one thing led to another. I take the lead and deepen the kiss, straddling his lap and pinning him against the headboard. Scotty presses against my flesh with his hands, kneading it like dough, sending intense jolts of electricity through me, igniting something that's been buried for a while. I move my hands up his stomach, tracing the defined muscles that cover his abdomen. They look like they were sculpted in marble—tight, precise, and painted on.

"Fuck, Harley. You sure this is what you want to do?"

He pants as our mouths part, but only for long enough for both of us to rip off our shirts and toss them to the ground in a heap.

"As long as you've got a condom, Scotty." Fuck me, please, so I forget." I beg, unafraid of seeking solace, even if it means taking a risk. Everyone grieves in their own unique way, and this is how I am grieving.

“Damn, baby girl. Hearing you fucking beg me is enough.”

Another sultry groan escapes my throat as he bites my bottom lip and then brushes my teeth with the piercing in his tongue. He snickers as he holds onto me and flips me to my back, laying me on a pile of clothes on my bed that I’ve been meaning to fold. He hovers over me, his gaze deep in mine as he sweeps his hand down my body, resting it right between my thighs. As he touches me, I buck my hips as his palm rubs my pussy and his fingers caress my clit. He flings open my legs and gets between them, maintaining a fixed gaze on me, causing my body to tremble. My toes curl up against the comforter on my bed as his finger circles my opening, spreading my arousal in a tease that sends my legs trembling. He rolls a condom over his shaft, aligns the tip with my opening, and then slowly presses himself inside the warm, moist space, making my back arch as he does so. As Scotty pushes, squeezing his hard, veiny cock between my walls, images of Brixton and I replay in my head, and I find it impossible to stop thinking about them.

"Christ, Har. Tight like a fucking virgin."

In an effort to forget about my broken heart, I grab Scotty by the back of his head and pull him down so that our lips once again come together. With perfect strokes, he repeatedly hits my spot with the tip of his cock while grunting into my mouth, but the more I try to reach my climax, the further away it gets. He slides out of me and slams back in, stretching me even more and leaving a lingering, unpleasant burn in his wake. However, the pain makes me feel alive. It helps me realize I'm not dead, and I find myself looking for more of it as I dig my nails into the skin on his back. Scotty fucks me into oblivion with vibrant, shallow strokes, spilling his come into the condom as his body spasms on top of mine.

I really want to come myself, but I just can't seem to get it, so when he pulls out of my pussy and slides the full condom off his cock, it makes me even more agitated. While I'm lying here, gasping for air, my chest heaves, and contractions rip into my lower belly, leaving me with a tight, unfulfilled feeling inside. This is going to be hell with him staying here.

●Brixton●

I can't sleep for fucksake. Since returning to prison, all I've done is toss and fucking turn while obsessing over nagging theories about what's happening at Harley's house. I know Trigger like the back of my fucking hand, and I'm positive he's already fucked my little bird by this point. I try to tell myself as I cringe. She isn't mine anymore, but she will be. She has no idea that I'm still watching everything she does But I had to have a way to keep an eye on her while I'm in here. Trigger can try to take my place for now, even keep my side of the bed warm for me, but when I get out of here...I'm taking what's fucking mine, and I'll get my little bird back in the end. Even if that means whisking her away for her own safety...

She has no idea who Trigger really is or the secret that he's been keeping from her for years. But I fucking do... and what I know will break her fucking heart.

My little bird thinks I'm a fucking monster, wait until she finds out what Trigger did. She's gonna regret the fucking day she let him inside her pussy, for damn sure. I squeeze my eyes shut and begin to drift off to sleep as the soft, sounds of my little bird's murmurs ring like a melody inside my ears.

Fuck, I miss you, little bird…