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"Explain what? That you're somehow back from the dead? Back in my life? That you're fucking sick? I already know all of that, Parker." She comes closer. My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest as she grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me in closer. "You're sick. I don't know how you found me. I don't know what you want. I just want you to leave me alone."

I contemplate her words. She thinks she hates me, but she's fucking wrong. I release a long breath before snaking my hand up around her neck. I grab tightly. She gasps and I feel her throat opening for a breath I won't give her beneath my fingers.

"You don't tell me what to do, Dove," I say. "You never could. Remember? I remember everything. How you followed me around like a lost little lamb. How desperate you were for me. How much you fucking wanted me. And now I'm back. And you can't keep running."

"I'm going to report you," she grinds out through gritted teeth. "I'm going to call the cops on you."

My heart beats into overdrive. I remember the night at the junkyard. Robin's body. Getting rid of him as if he meant nothing. He meant everything to her. That's over. There's no room for anyone else in Dove's life. Just. Me.

"You are?" I ask with a smirk. "You're going to report me, Dove? Why don't you do that right now?"

I pull out a phone from my pocket and dial 911. I hold the phone up to her, my smile unrelenting as I wait for the operator to click on.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Say it," I mutter at Dove. "Tell them. Tell them and this ends here and now."

Chapter 17

Dove

It's like a mirage. A figment of imagination. There's no way this is the madman who ruined my life eight years ago. But my eyes don't lie. Parker – Nox – stands before me in the flesh. Somehow, he survived that fall in Hawaii, and now he's back to haunt me. And something's telling me he won't give up this time.

I swallow thickly. The operator is asking if I'm okay. Nox is staring at me with his twisted smile and his cruel eyes and his unfairly handsome face. I want to claw that face. I want to ruin it like he ruined mine. But I'm not brave enough.

"Sorry, accident," I mutter into the phone. Without saying anything, Nox ends the call and pockets his phone. He doesn't address what just happened, and I stare down at the floor, feeling tears gathering in my eyes. But they don't fall. I don't let them.

"So, this is how it's going to be from now on, Dove," he says, gently taking my chin in his hands and tipping my head back so I'm forced to look at him. But I don't want to. I can't look at him. I can't meet his dark eyes. So, I close mine, refusing to give him any more of my attention. "You're going to be a good girl for me like you were all those years ago. Right now, you're going to head inside and tell that prick you came with you have to go home. If you want to tell him it's over right now, be my fucking guest. Otherwise you'll do it tomorrow."

"You don't own me," I hiss at him. "You don't tell me what to do."

"Think again." His grip moves to my throat. Hard, unrelenting, clenching down on my neck. Suddenly I can't resist. I need this. The darkness I've been trying to avoid my entire life is overwhelming. I've been running from him my whole life. That ends now. "I'm back, and you're done fucking fighting this. Got that?"

Fingers tightening. Menacing words escaping his lips. He's dark, ominous and so fucking exciting. It's the first flash of temptation I've had in years. And I should've known it would come from him... my damnation.

"Let me go," I whisper, but it's more for show than anything else, and of course, he does nothing of the sort. Instead, he laughs in my face, letting his fingers wander up my neck, over my lips, parting them.

"Suck my thumb," he mutters, and when I don't, he raises his hand like he's going to slap me. I flinch but the slap never comes. I open my needy mouth then, and close my lips around his thumb as he pushes it inside. I start sucking. Slowly, hesitantly, but sucking nonetheless. "That's right, you little fucking slut. You got better at that, didn't you? Had lots of practice?"

My eyes find his, silently begging for a reprieve I know he'll never give me. He grins while his finger continues to travel. Now, it slips over to my scar. He taunts me by touching it, pressing his fingers into it, smirking at me when he sees the pain in my eyes.

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