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Her Stalker
Her Stalker
Author: Kasey Rogness

A Stalker's Truth

Her Stalker is a stalker-age-gap dark romance not recommended for those under 17. Triggers include extreme sexual content, voyeurism, profanity, and dark themes. *Read at your own discretion.

This story is about a stalker's love and determination for the girl he set his sights on a long time ago.

Brixton started watching Harley, or his little bird when she was starting high school, and she never had a clue... But what happens when his secret is revealed?

You'll get flashbacks to before they started dating, and you'll see all the events that took place during those dark times. This story isn't for everyone, but I hope you enjoy it.

| Dark Stalker Romance 17+ |

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Chapter 1: A Stalker's Truth

Brixton pov, 35

While waiting for Harley to get home from work, I lounge on the couch with my hand in my pants, my eyes shut, and images of my little bird dancing around in my mind.

I can feel my lips curling into a smirk as I fall deeper into the abyss of Harley, allowing the strong current to sweep me into the darkness where our love began. It was an instant thing, for me anyway, not so much for her since she had no idea that I was fucking watching her. It was love at first fucking sight, and I couldn’t help but find her wherever she went. I was hooked on her from that very first day, and I knew I was an absolute goner immediately. I don’t know what kind of spell she had me under, but it was impossible to get out of, and at the same time, I never tried too hard to escape it. If she knew who I was, she wouldn’t have given me the time of day, so it was better to keep myself hidden in the shadows where she couldn’t see me, couldn’t judge me, and couldn’t ever find out what my true intentions were with her. As much as I craved to feel the way her body would feel against mine, I tortured myself night and day by just watching her, keeping myself hidden as I had done for so many years.

*flashback*

A few years ago, Harley's graduation Harley (18) Brixton (31)

Brixton pov

I try to blend in with the rest of the crowd, but I know I stand out like a sore fucking thumb. Wearing all black and a thick sweatshirt in the summer wasn't a good idea.

I'm here for one reason and one reason only: my little bird. Harley is graduating high school today, and I promised myself I wouldn't miss it.

Even the thick, ugly band secured around my ankle with the angry red flashing light won't stop me.

Fucking house arrest

I know that as long as I get back to my apartment within ten minutes, I'll be okay. And if I did my calculations right, Harley should be walking across the stage any-

“Harley Savage”!

Just then, the principal called her name, and she stood up. My cock is already twitching against my thigh, and I haven't even gotten close to her yet.

She stands, her short, curly hair bouncing against her shoulders as she walks across the stage proudly. She scans the crowd and locks my gaze for a moment before turning away.

If I wasn't already fixated on her every move, then I would've been in this fucking moment. Everything about her captivates me, and I find myself always wanting more.

The counter on my watch ticks down, signaling that I'm almost out of time to get back to my house. Once she's seated, I get up and sprint away as fast as I can, never looking back.

I'll see you soon, little bird.

I don't bother turning around because it's not like she knows who I am. She doesn't know that I've been watching her for the last four years, and today isn't the day that she'll find out.

Back to the present day...

After what seems like a whole night has passed in my dream, I hear fumbling at my front door, and the sound makes my eyes fling open instinctively.

What the fuck is that?

I fling Harley's blanket off me and bolt up, storming to the door in a fit of rage due to being woken up from my peaceful, arousing sleep. I unbolt the locks and swing the door open, grimacing at Trigger's smug face as he stands there with a devious grin on his lips and a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

“What the fuck do you want, Scotty?”

“Aw, you're not happy to see your best friend? I just got out of prison, man. I thought you'd be happier to see me.”

I walk away, leaving him standing in front of the open door, knowing his ass is going to follow me regardless.

I veer to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge, waiting for Trigger to join me so I can hear all about his time behind bars this time around. Even so, I can't stop thinking about Harley and when her ass will be home. He pulls out a stool and hops up, gladly accepting the beer I slide toward him. I lean against the counter and tip the bottle into my mouth, guzzling the icy beer down.

“So, are you out on probation or what?”

“Nah, I did my full-time, so I'm a free man.”

“Yeah, for now.”

He looks around the apartment and returns my gaze with a questioning look as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Where's Harley? Are you guys still together?”

He grins. The look on his face brings me back to a time when they were together, and I cringe and shudder just thinking about it.

“Yes, we're still together, Trig. She's at fucking work.”

“I would've thought that by now she would've found out who you really are and left your fucking ass.”

I slam my beer on the counter and plant my palms flat, getting right in his face so our noses are touching.

He scoffs and pushes his hands against my chest, shoving me backward a few feet. I catch my balance and charge at him, feeling like I'm about to lose the control I've been bottling up. We begin tussling around the kitchen, knocking shit off the counter, and making a mess of the place as we venture back toward the living room.

“Why are you so fucking touchy when it comes to her, huh, Brix? Is it because you know I was inside of her? That I was fucking her while you weren't? Is that it, Brix?”

I swing my fist and connect with his jaw, hearing a loud popping sound as he stumbles backward, falling onto the couch.

“Fuck you, Trig.”

“Your whole fucking relationship with her is a goddamn lie, and you know it! When are you going to tell her that you've been stalking her since she was in high school? You're fucking 35 now, Brix. Can't you get a girl with conventional methods?”

Before I can respond, I hear a gasp and a thump behind me, and I know instantly that my little bird is home from work. I turn around slowly, after seeing the sadistic smirk on Trigger's face, and come face to face with Harley's bright blue eyes filled with tears, her lip quivering as she backs away.

“Is...Is that true, Brixton?”

“Little bird, I…”

“DON'T come near me!”

“Is it true what Scotty just said, Brixton? Have you been stalking me for the last eight years?”

I hear Trigger snickering as I cautiously approach my sad little bird, hoping she doesn't fly away like she's so damn good at doing. I take a deep breath, my chest heaving hard as my palms begin to sweat.

“Yes, it's true, little bird. You were always meant to be mine. Ever since we bumped into each other at the bookstore on that rainy day, I haven't been able to stay away from you.”

“So every time I looked over my shoulder, it was you?”

“Of course, it was him, Harley. He's been watching you for the last eight years and finally manipulated you into his fucking bed.”

I see her eyes flickering back and forth between me and the door, and I know she's about to fucking bolt.

“Don't fucking do it, little bird. It's not your time to fly away just yet…”

“Fuck you, Brixton! I never want to see you again! And that doesn't fucking mean you should start stalking me again. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone. For good!”

Without another word, she runs off, spreading her delicate wings and finally flying the fuck away from me for good… for now.

I'll fucking get her back one way or another. She should know by now that she's fucking mine, and I'm not letting her go that easily. I turn around to face Trigger, ready to fuck him up for blowing up my secret to Harley. He's only doing this so he can have her, but he's got a secret he's keeping from her too… I fucking regret everything, and I'll stop at nothing to get her back. Nothing...

Harley pov, 22

When I get back to my apartment, which is only a couple of doors down from Brixton's, I ball myself on the couch and cover my body with Brixton's blanket, not even sure why. I can’t help the tears that stream down my cheeks, but then again, I deserve to cry. Don’t I? I just found out that the man I fell in love with after he persuaded me to go out with him had ultimately betrayed me in the worst way imaginable. Well, one of the worst ways. How could you love someone so much and have everything start with a fucking lie, especially a lie as big as the one I just found out? As bad as this sounds, I already regret breaking up with him. Trying to keep my crying from turning to "ugly crying", I put a throw pillow over my head to muffle my sobs as my heart breaks into pieces all over again. The worst part is that I heard the news from his best friend and not from Brixton himself. If he truly loved me, then why didn’t he tell me when we started dating, instead of letting the lie continue for this long? What else hasn’t he told me? Has he killed people? Has he stalked other people? Other girls, maybe? I feel sick to my stomach as I lay here, thinking about a man I shouldn’t be crying over, but I can’t help it. We had some good times—a lot of them—even though it took us a while to get there. Now I know why he was so persistent about wanting to be with me, even though I always told him no. After the murder of my first and only love at the time, I didn’t want to be with anyone. I couldn’t see myself opening myself up to another man after the way Alec got taken away from me the way he did. A senseless murder took the lives of my brother and him, leaving me broken, lost, and devastated, I promised myself that I’d never love another man as much as I loved Alec… and then Brixton came along and fucked that promise up. He made me fall in love with him and then stabbed me in the heart, twisted it until all the blood squirted out and it rang dry, leaving a gaping hole in my fucking chest, and making the pain absolutely unbearable.

A sudden banging on my front door pulls me out of the depressing state I’ve let myself fall into, but I refuse to move from the couch. Brixton, being Brixton, lets himself in with his key, which I should’ve known he was going to do anyway.

“Harley, fucking talk to me, please.” He says as he walks over, his eyes red and puffy from crying. They match mine as I hide under the blanket, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me this way.

“Go the fuck away, Brixton.”

“No, I’m not fucking leaving until we talk about this, little bird.”

The couch dips as he sits down next to me, and as much as I want to jump right into his arms and cry into his chest, wanting to forget about everything I just found out, I can’t. It’s too hard, too betraying, and too hurtful. He doesn’t give up, though. He grabs my arms over the blanket and yanks me onto his lap, refusing to walk away so easily, but I’m sticking to my decision. How can I continue to be with someone who lied to me in the way that he did? He stalked me for years and violated me in ways that I still don’t know the entirety of. I don’t even know if I ever will either. A part of me is afraid to ask him why, when, and all the other questions that are running through my mind because I don’t want to hurt more than I already am.

“Little bird, I’m so sorry I did this to you, and I’m so fucking sorry that you found out this way. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

Hearing his half-assed apology and the arrogant tone of his voice, I ripped the blanket off of me and whipped around to face him. My jaw clenched so tight that my teeth hurt.

“How the fuck did you want me to find out, Brixton? When were you going to tell me that your ass was fucking stalking me? One day when we were married with kids?”

“No, little bird, it’s not even like that. Will you please just let me fucking explain myself?”

I slap his arms away from me and push off of his lap, forcing myself to my feet and as far away from his as I possibly can without leaving my apartment. I extend my arm and point my finger toward the front door, a scowl on my face as my eyes cast toward the ground, refusing to even look at him because it’s too damn painful.

“I don’t feel like listening to you right now, Brixton—not now, not tonight, and not tomorrow. I want you to fucking leave, and I don’t want you to call me either.”

To my surprise, he actually gets up without uttering another word and walks out of the apartment, not even slamming the door behind him, just shutting it quietly, and locking it to make sure I’m safe inside. However, the only one I need to stay safe from is him.

I sit back down with a bottle of vodka and start drinking right from it, wanting and needing to numb myself to just forget about the wild, disturbing thoughts running rampant through my imagination. I can't believe he's been stalking me for years. I was fourteen when I first felt the presence of another person following me, but no one was ever there when I checked. He fought to make me his for so long, and I finally gave in and went against my better judgment. Now look what fucking happened! He managed to find me right when I needed someone the most, right after the murder of my boyfriend at the time. I should've known something was suspicious. As my heart breaks for a man I shouldn't love, I close my teary eyes and reminisce about our first encounter, unable to stop the pull from his obsessive clutches.

*flashback*

Eight years ago, Massachusetts

Harley (14 ) Brixton (27)

Harley pov

The rain pelts down against my body, soaking my hair to my head as a few loose strands fall in front of my face, I walk with my head down, of course.

I purposely step in puddles that scatter the sidewalk as Alec grabs my hand and forces us to run in unison, afraid that the cold rain will make him melt.

“Alec, we're not in a rush. Unless you have plans that I don't know about…”

We leave the school and head toward our street, ready to fill our parents in about how our first day of high school went.

“Harley, babe, I have football practice today. It's the first day, and I can't miss it.”

“But we were supposed to go to the bookstore to find the book we need for our project. You promised, Alec.”

“I know, but the coach wants us to watch game tape, so I have to go. How about you get the book, and then tomorrow I'm all yours?”

The way he smiles at me and winks with his deep, liquid blue eyes makes me forget all about the little argument we just had. He laces his fingers with mine and brings my hand to his lips, giving my skin a soft, sweet kiss that sends tingles of warmth throughout my body.

“Fine, Alec. Tomorrow, you're all mine.”

“Deal, baby.”

We run home with our hands still clasped together, only breaking the grip when we reluctantly part ways.

After parting ways when we hit our street, instead of going home, I bypass my driveway and keep walking in the direction of the bookstore, enjoying the rain that soaks my body.

I’ve always loved the rain and storms—any kind of storm, to be honest. I was born in the middle of a rainstorm on April 1st. My mother was somehow lying on my father’s Harley on the side of the road.

My father says I was blessed because the day I was born, the rain poured down and baptized my soul immediately. Whatever that means.

I see the bookstore ahead of me; the neon light flickers each time a rumble of thunder booms, rattling the town. It’s raining, so there shouldn’t be anyone inside, and I'll be alone. As I open the door, I pause briefly with my senses on high alert. The baby hairs on the back of my neck and my arms rise stiffly as the feeling of being watched begins to invade my mind. The only person I see when I turn my head to scan around me, is a scruffy looking man in his twenties, approaching the bookstore in clothes that cling to his sculpted body. I smile at him to ease the discomfort as I hold open the door for him and walk inside, taking shelter from the icy rain. He follows behind me and enters the store but ventures to the self-help area, disappearing behind an array of crowded shelves.

Mhm, who is he?...

Brixton pov

The ride on the T isn’t long, and I’m walking off the dingy platform before I fucking know it. Dark, gloomy clouds begin to consume the once-bright sky, hiding the sun from shining down on the city. Thunder rolls in the distance and silent claps of lightning strike vividly in the sky moments later. I'm in Brockton for a meeting with my parole officer so she can explain the terms of my release. I got caught stealing another car with my buddy Scotty, or Trigger, as I call him, and he's still locked up. Luckily, I got out, and I'm gonna do my best not to fuck up...

an hour later

Back on the T, I followed my PO’s directions, written down on a post-it note, to a dank bookstore in a small town about twenty minutes from Brockton in search of a book about turning my life around.

I’ve gone through all of this shit before, and it never seemed to stick. There’s no use thinking this time will be any fucking different.

Finally arriving, I step off the train and onto the platform, braving the storm brewing above me as I make my way to the bookstore. I spot the flickering “OPEN” sign hanging above the door, swaying in the heavy wind that whips the cold rain against my body, making me break out with a shiver that slowly travels along my spine. And that’s when I see her. She’s fucking breathtaking, even with her dark hair matted in wet strands over her head. She opens the door and walks into the bookstore, safe from the torrential rain that’s drowning the small town. And for the first time in my entire fucking life, I’m anxious and excited to venture into a fucking bookstore. All because of her.

Back to the present day...

Not wanting to think about the man who deceived me for so long, I force myself to get up and grab my phone off the table before I walk out of my apartment again.

I still can't believe this happened. I can't believe Brixton is my stalker. What has he seen? What does he know about me?

I venture out to the courtyard of our apartment complex and take a seat on the bench. Even though I'm trying to quit, I light a cigarette anyway, needing to calm myself down immensely. With my brother long gone, along with Alec, my first love, calling my mother is out of the question since our relationship has fallen apart drastically. There's only one other person I can talk to that I've let into my bubble, and that's Alexis, my friend from the strip club where I work. I pull up her social media and opt for a video chat, needing to see a familiar face right now.

“Aww, you miss me already, Har?”

“Wait, why are you crying?”

“It's... it's Brixton, Lexi.”

“What about Brixton?”

“We broke up because I found out he'd been stalking me for years!”

Is it bad that I already miss him and want him back? I know he'll stop at nothing to win me back, but I won't tell him how I regret breaking up with him. I love him, damnit.

I hang up with Lexi and stay outside, wanting to roam the streets to clear my head but also worried that if I start walking aimlessly, Brixton is going to end up finding me and resorting to stalking me like he had no problem doing so many times before. I still can’t believe it, but I try to push the betrayal down as I walk, letting the refreshing air smack me in the face as I navigate the dark streets filled with sinister acts and vile people, all staring at me. But none of them compare to Brixton’s eyes—the same eyes I told to stop watching me... So how come I want them on me now? Man, this breakup is going to be harder than I thought it would be, but I have to stick to my guns and tough it out. If I take him back, it’s just showing him that I’m allowing him to walk all over me and that I’m not one of those fucking girls. No matter how much I love and care for him, he deceived me and went about things all wrong. And when I see Trigger next, I'm going to give the little shit a piece of my mind too, because he knew what he was doing when he ratted his best friend out. But I want to know why he did it and what his motive was. Is he trying to stir shit up between us? Does he want to try to date me next or something? What is his endgame? Why would he ruin his best friend’s relationship with the girl of his dreams?

Still clutching the bottle of liquor in my hand as I stroll down the dark street, I come to a nightclub, the music spilling out onto the street, and find myself swaying my hips to the beat. With the wind blowing lightly and the alcohol warming me up on the inside, I close my eyes and let the rhythm take me away. I just want to forget about everything and move on, but how am I supposed to do that when Brixton is literally everywhere I look, walk, live, and fucking breathe?

Brixton pov

“Fuck you, you piece of shit. Why the fuck did you do that shit?” I scream at Trig the second I get back into my apartment, spotting him sprawled out on the couch with his feet kicked up and his heels on my coffee table, a giant shit-eating grin on his lips that I just want to slap the fuck off.

“I told you it had to happen sooner or later.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t your fucking place to tell her.”

I go right to the fridge and snatch a beer out, not grabbing him one this time. I go to the window and light a blunt, ignoring the fact that we're not supposed to smoke inside. I couldn’t give a fuck right now. I just lost the one fucking person, the one fucking girl I’ve ever loved, and, the only one I’ve ever fucking cared about, and I need to find a fucking way to get her back.

“Are you really that fucking pissed?”

“Yeah, Trig, I am. You just sent my fucking girl packing, man. She broke up with me because your pathetic ass told her I was stalking her.”

“She’ll come running back before long, don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Brix.”

I grit my teeth briefly, then unclench them to hit the blunt, ignoring his ignorant words and trying my hardest not to pummel his fucking ass again as I inhale the smoke and hold it in so I can intensify the high rushing through my body. I just want to forget everything. When I let the smoke out, I tilt my head toward the ceiling and track the smoke as it spirals, eventually evaporating into a cloud that leaves the air in a dense fog, slightly blurring my vision. I gaze out at the stars, the same ones that Harley and I used to watch together on the roof, wishing that’s where I was right now- with her. Trigger’s laugh pulls me out of another Harley fantasy, and rage surges through me again. I spin toward him and throw the now-empty beer bottle his way, knocking him upside the head with it.

“What the fuck, B?”

“Get the fuck out, Trig. I’m done. I can’t stand looking at your ass right now, I’m fucking livid with you, and I want your ass outta here.”

“Yo, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. And if you don’t get the fuck out, then I’ll drag you the fuck out, and I’m definitely not playing around with your ass this time.”

As I go to step up to him when he doesn’t move, he takes one look at the evil expression on my face, throws his hands up, and finally scrambles off the couch and to his feet, backing up quickly to the front door, mean mugging me the whole fucking time.

“Fine, I’ll leave, but I can almost bet you that you’ll be calling my ass tomorrow to go do a fucking job or some shit, man.”

“No, Trig, I fucking won’t. You fucked everything up with Harley. I don’t think you fucking get how much that girl meant everything to me.”

“Brix, you seem to be forgetting one very important thing, my man.”

He turns the knob and opens the door, putting one foot in the hall but keeping his face on me while he gives me a devious smirk that makes me want to punch him.

“Oh, what the fuck is that?”

“You’re the one who fucked everything up, Brixton. You’re the one who stalked her, not me. You’re the one who betrayed her, not me.”

“Yeah, Trig, I did all those things, but you’re the fucking one who ratted me out when you had no fucking business doing it. Now get the fuck out before I put a fucking bullet between your fucking eyes.”

He slams the door, finally leaving me alone, and I fucking hate it. I haven’t been alone in so damn long that I’m not even sure what to do with myself. The urge to search for my little bird is like an addiction rushing through me, and it’s becoming harder and harder to control. As I stare out the window at the city below, I sweat. I see her walking, but she wouldn’t brave the vile, unknown streets this time of night. The harder I look, the more I think it’s her, though. A crazy idea pops into my head, and before I know it, I’m grabbing my black sweatshirt, and another blunt, and walking out of my apartment, going right back to my old ways and stalking my little bird. Fuck it. If I can’t have her, I might as well watch her again. It’s the closest I’m going to get to her for the time being.

The weather is extremely beautiful tonight as I walk the street a great distance behind her, making sure she doesn’t see me because if she does, then I’m fucked and I’ll never get her back. All I want to do is see her and get a glimpse of her to make sure she’s okay, but by the way, she’s staggering her steps, I can tell she’s fucking drunk. I hate how I’ve fucking hurt her, and I just want to make it right, but I have no fucking idea how to begin to redeem myself right now. She won’t talk to me. She won’t listen to me. She won’t even look at me. So, for now, the only thing I can do is what I do best, and that is stalking her, so I’ll continue to do that for as long as it takes for her to see how much she means to me....

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