no control

• eight •

elijah

She almost had me. I felt her—truly felt her—for the first time. My angel was the perfect combination of soft and warm. I almost lost my nerve holding her so close.

There was little stopping me from taking her, from sucking on her sweet lips and squeezing her until she moaned for me. She wouldn't stop me. I knew that much already.

I sat rigidly straight behind the wheel, watching her small body shuffle up the dimly lit street. She glanced around the street and hurried up towards her house.

Good. She should be scared.

This was not a safe neighborhood for a girl like her. She was too naive, too attractive, too small. I wasn't the only man who looked at her with intent.

Her openness with me was also concerning. Of course, I wanted to believe she was only that way with me, but I wasn't a fool. She was innocent and soft, despite the hard act she sometimes tried to put up.

My breath caught just thinking about her silky golden hair and round cheeks, the fullness of her curves under anything she wore, and her soft little hands.

Her serene green eyes. They radiated peace and control. Her calm settled the swell inside me, the burn for destruction and rage. The way she looked at me like I was the only man that existed did something to me.

The problem was that she shouldn't. She shouldn't see that in me. I was an egotistical bastard but even I knew she deserved better than me.

I would never admit as much to her. She would want to leave if she knew the truth, if she comprehended the depravity of the beast inside me. I couldn't let her go. Not even knowing it was for her best.

That made me sick in the head, I knew, but the facts remained. She would never escape me so long as my lungs had air and my heart still beat.

For now, I planned to protect her from me as well as I could. I would continue building trust with her. Then, when the truth became known, my sweet angel might not be so scared of me. Maybe her love for me will even blind her to the truth of it all.

I am a monster. A murderer.

Gladys paused at the door and glanced over her shoulder. I smiled faintly as her gaze locked on my car. She was more observant than I gave her credit for.

Smart girl.

Her lips curled slightly before she opened the door and disappeared inside. My eyes surveyed the pitiful little house and my mood quickly dropped again.

I had to get her the fuck out of here. She shouldn't have been living in this shit hole. If my self-control was any less, she'd already be locked away in the security of my home. She would resent me if I did that, though. I craved this girl like my next breath but I would wait. Once she was graduated and independent, she would be with me.

Speaking of independence, why the fuck did she think working at a gas station was a good idea? I had to put an end to that, in some way or another.

My hands clenched around the steering wheel. I knew what sketchy mother fuckers loitered at that gas station. Tweakers, dealers, thugs, gangbangers. They'd all be a little too happy to see her rare, humble beauty behind the counter.

I growled out loud. Son of a bitch.

She wanted to make her own money—fine. But I would find a more suitable way for her to do that.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, ranting internally at her house, before an incoming call from Aaron interrupted.

"What is it?"