His Obsession (Stalker Romance)

chapter five

TW

~

"Aunt Aia, hello." A quietened of my niece speaks from the other side of the line. "Hey, baby, what happened?" I say, panicked from how scared and low her voice is. "Aia, he's back, please help me."

Oh, God.

I leave everything, mistakenly drawing a line through the paper of information in my rush. "Hold on for me, baby, where are you now?" I drag out, roaring my car's engine to life. "I—I'm in the pantry. He—he is coming for me." Angelica's voice breaks and quiet cries emit from her lips. I pull out my other phone and dial 911, already sending them to my dearest sister's house.

My sister married a violent man fourteen years ago after he got her pregnant two years before their wedding. He's been cheating on her and bringing another woman into their house and their bedroom which caused her to develop a drug addiction. As her daughter grew, this man grew more and more attracted to her, especially during his drunk hours.

It is not the first time she is calling me regarding him wanting to assault her while inebriated. He'd done the first time when she was fifteen and Angelica stayed with me for two months until her mother remembered she had a child and demanded to have her back within her custody. It was quiet for a few years and now he struck again.

My dearest sister seems to disappear from home for weeks or even months, leaving her defenseless daughter in a house with a rapist. Ben Brown never made a good appearance to me.

"Keep on for me, okay, I'm almost there, police are right around the corner, sweetheart," I say reassuringly. "Okay." She breathes.

And I was being honest, not even a minute after, I hear police sirens ring through the line. "Police are there, baby, stay hidden until they have him in custody." I hear her mutter a string of thank You's, but her voice is wobbly, and I can hear her tears.

Imagine the trauma that will stay with her for the entirety of her life. All because her mother was stupid enough to have a relationship with her father's best friend who had been three times her age at the age of sixteen.

Pedophilia and grooming all at once but when my father and I laid a case against him, she refused and said he wasn't the one to get her pregnant.

I park my car and rush my way inside, my gun neatly tucked in my holster.

"Ma'am, he is still hidden inside, I'm afraid he might have gotten a hold of her." One of the police officers says, "she was fine a minute ago, I'm going in." I cock my gun and disregard his shouts of concern behind me. In this situation, Angelica's life is dearer than mine. I'm a very dirty woman to play with. I shoot in every direction, even though there is no target, I use as many bullets as I can before I can reach the kitchen where the pantry is located. "Angelica! I'm here, come out." I shout, even though there is no response.

I kick the wooden door open, and it reveals an empty space, no food or Angelica.

Fuck.

I run out, rushing up the stairs while the other police officers search downstairs. The old wood creaked beneath the sole of my boots. I open the doors, a smoky substance embracing my face and leaving trails of dust. I wasn't wearing a bulletproof vest, just black cargo pants paired with a tight black shirt and thick black boots. So, if I get shot somehow, it's the end of me.

I'm at the end of the hallway and all the rooms appeared to be empty, only one door left. A black wood and when I turn the knob it is locked.

I can hear shushed cries from inside and I'm certain she's in here. Since Ben hasn't been caught, he might be here, and I would be blowing my cover by shouting. I so quietly, shoot through the lock of the door, hearing the screws fall apart and the smell of metal sneaking its way through my nose.

I kick it open, and I had no minute to process the current situation because eight of my bullets went flying as soon as I spotted him.

On top of her, naked. His blood splashes on my face and everywhere else in the room. I could not care less as I fight to remove his large dead body from on top of her weeping figure. I manage to kick him off and I reveal her. Her mouth is wide as she sobs, blood slicking her thighs and the bed sheets beneath her. Her blood.
"Angelica," Tears seep out of my eyes as my walls are let down and disappointment dawns on me like the current situation. I came too late. I try my best to hold her trembling body in my arms, but she fights me. 

"Please, don't touch me! I'm sorry! I won't do it again, dad, I promise, I—" She cries, covering her skin from the shredded material of her shirt. "It's Aia, come, sweetheart... it's me, I'm sorry." I apologize rapidly, wiping my tears. She looks up at me, her big brown eyes all red and the tip of her nose red. 

She gives in, wrapping her petite body next to my own. 

"I'm here, it's okay." I hush her, hearing her sniffles drift to soft breathing by the time the police get to the room and remove him from the floor. She has fallen asleep holding my hand and I carry her back to my car. 

"Conner, find me the best lawyer in the city and file for a case of custody at the court. I'll email you the needed information." I don't await his answer and I hang up and continue driving, dread clogging my throat. My eyes settle on her scrunched-up body in the backseat, that's all I need for my eyes to burn. 

. . . 

She is still sleeping; I don't know if it's just the fact she doesn't want to wake up or she is so deprived of it. I would be a damn idiot to let her go back to that house.

Her monstrous mother hasn't seen a sight of that building in almost five months.

"Angelica?" I call out softly, it was the next day and it was almost noon, she hadn't woken up and she needed to in order to clean up and eat. She doesn't have a brutal reaction like she did last night when I found her, she opens her brown eyes softly. "Aia?" She rasps as if she is shocked I'm here.

"You need to wake up, my love, the doctor will be here soon." I push her bushy curls out of her face, noticing every body movement of hers. The way tears pool at her widely opened eyes to her stiffening body at the of my touch. "Hey, shh, it's over now. He's gone." I wipe away her tears, but she doesn't let me. She covers her face with the blanket, wiping them herself.

She takes a generous breath in. "I'm being dramatic. I'm fine." She tries to give me a smile but fails miserably as more tears spill out. "I swear I don't usually cry this much." My heart throbs in pain. "You're not being dramatic." I avoid touching her because I can see the discomfort, but I hold her in my head.

"You don't understand, I wore tight shirts, and I didn't have skirts that fit me anymore, t-trust me, I asked for it-" I cut her off. "It wasn't your fault; it will never be your fault. You got raped, Angelica. You can't beat yourself up for a past you cannot change. You can't ask for that, you weren't asking for it. You are not at fault. He is."

It doesn't matter if I rip my vocal cords out and give them to her in a bottle repeating how it was never her fault, Angelica will forever believe she leads everyone to do the bad because she feels as if she isn't good enough to be treated like she is good enough.

___

Should I make a book for Angelica?

Here's her aesthetic (she is mixed, black and white)