A Stalker's Oath

Brixton, Day 69 in prison

After doing my usual workouts for the morning, I lie back on my thin mattress, which hardly fits on the hard, metal bed. I wait for rounds to pass before discretely pulling out the cell phone I keep shoved in the ripped seam of my pillow, hoping to catch the live feed from my little bird's apartment.

One of the CO's that I've come to befriend during my numerous visits here slips me the phone whenever he's on duty, then takes it back when he leaves. When I pull up the feed, I see her in bed with Trigger, and my fucking blood begins to boil as rage fills my veins, making it feel like fire is coursing through them rapidly. Fucking snake. I could give him a dose of his own medicine and rat his fucking ass out too, but then she'd fucking hate both of us even though I had nothing to do with Trig's betrayal. No matter how pissed I am at him, I'd never betray him by telling my little bird his secret, even though it's on the tip of my tongue whenever I see her. I plead silently to no one as if Harley can hear me through these steel walls, miles and miles away. I tuck the phone back into the torn pillow and rest my head over the uncomfortable lump as I close my eyes and drift off to the night Trigger told me what he did. What he did was fucking senseless and unforgivable. I'm no fucking saint by any means, but stalking her is nothing compared to his lie. I've never been able to look at him the same way, especially when he's around my little bird. If she only fucking knew.

Two years ago, right after the murder of Alec

The sound of the crisp fall leaves crunching under my feet is oddly satisfying, keeping me calm as I venture down the street looking for some business. I've been out in the fucking streets more lately, all because Harley is always out now, and I just need to keep an eye on her to make sure she's fucking safe. They're not nice out here in Brockton, even though Southie is much worse, and Harley doesn't know what she's getting herself into. She's spiraling and completely out of control. We've crossed paths a lot these last few months, and never under the best circumstances either. But we still haven't spoken a single fucking word to each other. But why would we? Shit, she doesn't need to know anything about me, even though I already fucking know everything about her. And I mean everything.

It's the first actual day of fall, and the brisk, blanketing breeze makes it ring true. New England in the fall is breathtaking. It's my favorite place in the entire fucking world. The colorful leaves and the swirling winds bring me back to my childhood and the few good memories I have of us playing in a pile of leaves. My fidgety hands into my pockets to keep from shaking them to death, all while trying to shut the door to the past and run away from it as fast as I fucking can. As I walk in search of Trigger, an obvious drug deal goes down as I approach him from behind, and I'm half expecting to hear the "whoop whoop" of the police sirens any minute now. I cross the street and bolt down Montello Ave, spotting the reason I'm on this side of town, to begin with. While waiting for him to finish up with his customer, I take a cigarette out of my pack and light it, tucking the filter between the corners of my chapped lips. The breeze whips through again, sending a bone-chilling shiver through my body and making my fucking teeth chatter.

"What's goin' on, Brix? I didn't think you'd show up."

"Nah, you know me better than that, Trig. If I say I'm gonna be somewhere, then I'm gonna fucking be there."

We shake hands and do a half-armed hug as we slowly walk through the crowd of gangsters, sluts, and fiends gathered all along the sidewalks, protecting their block. Trigger brings me back to his place and locks the door as soon as we walk in. His demeanor shifts, and suddenly the color drains from his face.

"Yo, what's going on, Trig?"

"I fucked up, Brix. I fucked up big fucking time."

After excessive pacing, Trigger manages to get himself to the couch, where he collapses and slouches against the back, slapping his hands over his face.

"Trigger, what the fuck are you talking about, bro? You've got me all kinds of confused right now.

I sit across from him in the broken recliner, staring at him in disbelief and confusion, wondering what the fuck is going on. He has been acting differently lately. He hasn't been around much, even though we live ten minutes apart. He's secluding himself but partaking in risky fucking behavior. It's almost like he's trying to get his parole revoked so he can go back to fucking prison. Fuck that. I'm never going back as long as I can help it. Just like we always do when we hang out, we get high on whatever drugs we have, trying to alter our minds to transport us to another dimension. Just like fucking magic, a warm, tingling rush washes over my body, making my shoulders slump and my heart rate dip below normal. I'm calm, though, and I feel like my fucking self.

"Yo, just tell me what you did, man. I have a fucking meeting to get to, and you know I can't be late for that shit."

He seals his lips, refusing to speak, making me start to wonder how bad this fuckup of his really is.

“Does it have something to do with how you got your ass from Revere to Brockton the other night?”

“Brix, I fucked up…I needed a whip and... and it was...it was right there... I didn't know he'd have a gun on him, so I got fucking scared... and…”

I pinch the bridge of my nose in anguish as the pieces of his jumbled puzzle start slowly fitting together in my mind.

“Tell me you didn't, Trig…”

“I did, Brix. I fucking did…”

Back to the present time...

My brain pounds relentlessly against my skull as I reminisce on the heartbreaking moment from a couple of years ago. It's a heavy burden to fucking carry. It's not my secret to tell, though. I turn my head to the side and glance at the lines of chalk drawn on the wall, keeping track of how many days I've been in here...69 days and counting...

Harley

Brixton's been in prison for a little over two months now, and each day without him seems to get harder.

Trigger hasn't left my apartment, even though his leg is healed by now. I guess we're in a relationship. One of convenience, though. Luckily, he's gone more than he's here, always in the streets hustling to earn a living.

Still experiencing the feeling of someone watching me, I've been staying inside unless I have to go to work, but the feeling never goes away. Noticing the time has quickly passed and it's time for me to get ready for work, I bolt to my room and dig through my sexy lingerie, wanting to look my best tonight. I know that Brixton hates that I dance for a living, but he isn't here anymore to bitch about it. Is it bad that I want him to be here, though?

I slip into something sexy and cover myself with my warm winter coat, seeing how the snow is coming down in thick flakes, blanketing the city in sparkling white. As I strut down the street tonight, a little unsteady on my feet, the high black heels I chose to wear start to irritate my heels. I'm actually shocked that I haven't busted my ass yet considering how much alcohol is currently rushing through me. The number of people who have stopped their cars by the side of the road and catcalled me has increased, but every time I check the John, I leave dissatisfied.

What are you doing, Harley? Another car pulls up to the curb as I approach the elite gentleman's club on the city's main drag. where I work, and spot Lexi outside waiting for me. She chases the car off, screaming obscenities at it, making me laugh for the first time since I last saw her.

“Damn, Har, they follow you everywhere.”

“I know, and they're not even good-looking.”

She opens the door and I follow her inside, still feeling as if a pair of eyes are burning a hole right into my back.

As soon as we walk in, Stacks, my boss, appears in front of me with a devious smirk on his thick lips as he towers over me.

“Savage, come with me to my office. We gotta talk.”

“Lexi, get to work and she'll join you. There's no need to worry about her.”

“Yeah, yeah. I already know.”

With some reluctance, I follow him down the hall to his office and sit in the same chair that I did when he first hired me. Once more, he takes out two shot glasses and pours vodka into them, which we both down at once. I'm already fucking destroyed, so the burn doesn't have much of an impact on me. My entire being is effectively rendered numb by the drugs and alcohol flooding my system, which is exactly how I want to feel.

“How are you liking it here so far?” He asks, filling our glasses a second time.

“Can't really complain.”

“Have you given the idea of moving to the escort side any more thought?”

I shiver in my seat as his intense gaze penetrates right into me. I obeyed his instructions and stopped turning tricks; since then, I haven't given it any thought.

“Honestly? Honestly, no. I've been sucked back into the dance world, and I feel fucking right at home.”

I take another shot and slide the glass back for yet another refill.

“Why are you asking, though?”

"Because a lot of my clients are curious about you." They want to take you out, Savage.”

“Hm, well, I’ll have to think about that, Stacks. I don't date, and it's difficult to pretend that I'm having fun when I'm not."

"You make three times as much money on dates as you do on stage. Simply give it some thought.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks, Stacks.”

I get up and stumble out of Stack's office, overly drunk from the countless vodka shots I just took, heading straight for the stage as my name rings through the speakers. My vision is blurred by the strobe lights as I seductively climb the shiny pole with both hands while eye-fucking the audience. When I reach the top, I wrap my legs around it and let myself fall. As I sway back and forth to the beat of the music blasting from the speakers, my hair sweeps across the stage. I twirl my body around the pole while still hanging upside down as Ride by Ciara hums in my ears and my hips methodically follow the beat. I see Stacks watching my routine from the back corner of the club, his eyes glistening with admiration and approval. Bills flutter throughout the air, cascading over the stage from the hungry men applauding my moves. I lose myself in the music and allow it to carry me to a soothing place free from suffering or loss. When my set ends and I walk off stage, flirtatiously waving to the cheering crowd, I run into Stacks on my way to the dressing room.

“Great fucking job, Savage. The fucking crowd loves you.”

“Thanks, Stacks. I think I'll take you up on that job offer."

Outside of the club, I light a cigarette and begin my walk home, savoring the frigid fall wind. My skin prickles with goosebumps, but I'm not cold. There's so much shit running through me that I'm completely numb to anything. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I definitely feel that. Nobody is there when I turn around. I still have the uneasy sensation that someone is watching me. Following me, maybe. I make an effort to ignore it and simply continue walking. From here, I can see my apartment building, but the distance ahead looks horrendous. Especially in these heels and the lack of clothing, I decided to leave the club. Despite hearing footsteps, I can’t see anyone. I can smell strong cologne, but no one stands out. The street beneath the bridge is crowded with homeless people, but it's not them that gives me these strange feelings.

It's Brixton. I know he's watching me from somewhere...

I don't see anyone else, so I keep walking, trying to get home as soon as possible. The typical dealers are strewn about on the corners and walking the shadowy alleys in search of their next clients. When I safely make it inside my apartment and lock the door behind me, I strip down and get warm under Brixton's blanket, burying myself on the couch. Knowing Scotty is going to be out all night, I fall into a memory of the first night Briston and I fucked, and it gets me wet just thinking back on it. God, how can I miss someone so much when they fucking betrayed me?

A couple of years ago...Brixton and Harley’s first time

I walk up to my apartment sick as a fucking dog, running right into B and Scotty, who are playing dice on the front steps as usual. B stands up and approaches me directly, pressing his body up against mine and slowly pinning me against the chilly brick building as Scotty sits back down and rolls the dice once more.

"Little bird, why do you keep popping up wherever I am?"

He breathes directly into my ear, barely raising his voice above a whisper, giving me a chill on top of the uncomfortable chills I already feel.

“Is it my fault that you’re blocking the entrance to my apartment?”

"You're going to get in fucking trouble with that mouth of yours, little bird."

He runs his fingers down the front of my body while keeping his mouth right next to my ear, tickling my skin with his warm breath.

"What exactly do you want, Harley?"

"I need something, B, and Scotty said you might be able to help."

Without responding, he pushes off the wall of the building I'm pressed up against. He enters the passcode and holds open the front door, seemingly waiting for me to follow him.

“Are you fucking coming or what?”

I nod at Scotty as I pass by him on the stairs, eagerly following B inside just as he lets the door go, smacking me in the face with it. We walk in silence to the second floor while B mutters to himself and I hold my nose as it throbs...

I wait by the door when we enter his apartment while B goes into another room to get what I need. I look around, observing the walls' dark, heavy paint and the absence of family photos. I feel as though I'm confined to a comfortable version of a nightmare. Even though there isn't much to see, I continue to look around his apartment in an effort to learn more about him. When he returns and sees me in the same place, he shakes his head and motions for me to join him on the couch. We get the drug situation taken care of and I instantly feel better, allowing myself to relax against his couch as if I belong here. What happened to my fucking life? I changed from dancing in plays and instructing dance to twirling around a pole almost ass naked. I went from looking down on people who used drugs to deal with their problems to becoming one of them. I used to be terrified of what happened on the streets, but now I long for the peril that waits in the darkness.

Now reading from Brixton's pov...

“You okay over there, little bird?”

"I'm great, B, all thanks to you."

As she rolls the word off the tip of her tongue, she slurs, lust dripping from her voice. My cock twitches, and moisture seeps into the fabric of my shorts. She pulls her bottom lip in between her pearly white teeth as her eyes slowly open and narrow in my direction. She noticeably rakes her hooded eyes down my body before settling them in the middle of my lap, sending heat rushing to my cheeks. Jesus Christ. My fucking love for her is insatiable. It's a sick kind of love that few people get to experience, and those who do are almost certainly behind bars or six fucking feet under. When you want someone as much as I want Harley, eight years is a long time. She has fucking tortured me for so fucking long, and the only fucking thing I do is watch her.

“Brixton.”

“What?”

“My name is Brixton. Are you fucking happy now, little bird?”

I regret the words that just spilled out of my mouth as I walk away from her and take a seat on the couch again. Though I knew it was inevitable, I didn't want her to know my name.

I sigh and lean back against the back of the couch, ash from my cigarette falling onto my lap. The spot beside me sinks, and Harley's perfume invades my nostrils, sending little jolts right to my cock. I feel her hand savagely brush against the bulge in my lap before I can open my eyes. I grab her wrist and give her an ominous glare as I open my eyes. I move my face closer to hers while still holding her wrist in my hand. Her chest heaves as she breathes, and the veins in her neck pulse erratically.

"Little bird, what the fuck are you doing?"

"You... you had ash in your lap."

She trembles slightly, still trying to hold her breath. I look down and make a clean sweep of her body; the ferocity of my gaze causes her to wriggle in her seat. She pulls at her bottom lip once more, nervously biting her gleaming, pink flesh as her eyes grow seductive. With my fingers still gripping her wrist, I lean in and place my other hand on her thigh. She's not fighting me. My fingers lightly brush along the inside of her thighs as she opens them up to my touch. Her free hand lands on my thigh, perilously close to the growing bulge she just felt. I swallow hard and slowly, but I notice her swallowing even slower. Her eyes glisten. Her eyes avert to my lips. She moves in close enough for our noses to meet, and then she takes her place on my fucking mouth, dipping her pierced tongue between my lips. Throwing caution to the wind, I grab the back of her head and intensify the kiss. I dominate her mouth as I ravenously explore it with my tongue. I carry on with the overdue kiss despite the constant arguments in my head. When I let go of her wrist, she grabs my shirt and tries to pull the hem up to remove it. I fucking let her, too. Our lips part only long enough for our tops to come off before we're back in a heated kiss, this time with me hovering over her as I push her down on the couch. Her skin feels like silk against my fingers as I grope her flesh, trying to touch every part of her and imprint it in my mind. She pulls me close to her as she runs her nails down my back and tries to lock her legs around my waist. When I finally do release her lips, I settle them over the vein on the side of her neck and sink my teeth into it. She groans directly in my ear, and the sweet melody makes my veins throb with desire.

“Brixton…”

She moans, bucking her hips as I rock my cock against her pussy, working her all the way to the edge. I ghost my lips down toward her chest while dragging my tongue across her collarbone. As I slither down her body, pinning her wrists above her head, I suck her hardened nipple into my mouth while keeping an eye on hers. It melts against my tongue when I flick it, like a piece of candy. Fuck. I tug the other one between my teeth in the same manner after playing with the first one until it is bright red and swollen. As my lips descend onto her skin, her needy eyes sparkle and flicker.

"There's no turning back once I take out my cock, little bird. Is this really what you want?”

I stand up and remove my shorts while watching her remove her panties on her own. She reclines, fully naked, allowing me to admire her model-like body. Her pink nipples stand out against the shimmering bronze glow of her skin. Freshly shaved and on display, the mound between her thighs drips arousal onto the cushion beneath her. The beautiful fucking sight in front of me catches my attention as I slowly wrap my hand around my cock and stroke it. As I lower myself onto her and settle comfortably between her parted thighs, she smiles and bats her lashes at me.

"Little bird, use your fucking words. Unless you want me to fuck you without your permission."

Still, she remains silent and waits patiently. I push the tip of my cock against her opening and let her arousal coat it, taking her silence as a yes.I push, driving my cock slowly and deeply into her as she arches her back off the couch.

When I finally get fully seated in her snug warmth, I enjoy the sensation of her muscles tightening around my shaft.

“Oh, god.”

“God isn't fucking here, little bird.”

She tilts her head back and lets out an ethereal, throaty moan, her pussy contracting around me like a fucking heartbeat. I grind my hips into her, brutally impaling her pussy with passionate, unyielding strokes. I suck her lobe between my teeth, licking the shell of her ear with the tip of my tongue as she grips my cock like a vice. She shudders and rolls her hips beneath me, widening her legs and pleading with me to fuck her harder. She trembles as my breath hits her neck, and as she unravels beneath me, her legs squeeze my hips. I re-capture her lips as she soaks my cock and showers me with her milky release. I pull out of her abruptly, using my hand to take over stroking, sensing my climax approaching and realizing I never put a fucking condom on. She props herself up on her elbows and watches my hand pump intently, licking her dry lips as her legs spasm from her orgasm.

“Sit up straighter, little bird.”

She complies and raises herself to my cock's level, its tip slapping against her parted lips as I jerk it. My climax is about to explode at any moment as my sack gets heavier and tighter. Small beads of cum seep from the tip of my cock. I smear it along her lips to make them shine bright. She tastes me on her lips and opens her mouth. I shake my head, causing her to pause in confusion.

“Your mouth needs to be shut, little bird. I want to see how beautiful you look with my come all over your face.”

She obeys my command and purses her pouty lips, her heavily hooded eyes locked hungrily on mine. My come jets out in hot, thick spurts as I stroke the wet tip of my cock over her cheeks, drenching her tender flesh in a glistening white glow. It drips down her cheeks in thick strings, landing right on her perky tits. I apply the last of it to her lips, then forcefully insert my cock into her mouth while squeezing my entire shaft down her narrow throat to reveal its outline. I grab her hair in my hand and move her head with it, finishing spilling my come down her throat.

She swallows most of it when I pull back to let her breathe, but the remaining spit and semen mix and drip from the corners of her lips. She sits in front of me like a fucking angel, naked and covered in my come, and it takes everything in me not to fucking take her again. I come to my senses, though.

“Brixton?”

She asks quietly when I walk away to fetch a wet rag to clean her up.

“Yeah?””

“Why do you fucking hate me so much?”

I wipe my cock with the rag and toss it to her, eagerly watching her clean herself up.

"Little bird, I don't hate you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.”

She appears perplexed as her satiated eyes flutter slowly, her lids begging to close and stay closed.

“Why are you out being a slut like you've been doing all fucking week?"

She clenches her teeth and balls her fists, fuming with a great deal of rage right now.

"I'm already fucking there."

I bend down and get directly in her face, pushing her firmly against the back of the couch I just fucked her on.

"I was born in hell, little bird. An insult would be telling me to go to heaven because I ain't no fucking saint. That's for damn sure."

“What we did tonight changes fucking everything. I just hope you're prepared for the fucking consequences, little bird."