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Something about touching her, whispering those words I’ve wanted to say to her for so long set me on a path that can’t be stopped. I don’t just want her.
I need her.
And as much as everyone would tell me I’m crazy, I know she needs me.
If I didn’t know what my purpose in life was before, I do now.
To never let anyone make her cry again.
I spin the Charger into a parking spot, and try to calm myself for a second by revving the engine and twisting the wheel back and forth. I don’t want her to see me when I’m this angry, don’t want her to be afraid of me. But someone is going to be afraid.
Someone is going to breathe their last breath if I have anything to do with it.
Nearly every day since I laid my eyes on her I’ve followed her. Shadowed her like some criminal. I had to have her in my life, even in such a distant manner. She didn’t know I watched her, walked the perimeter around her apartment making sure no one was lurking.
She almost always looked content, coming and going, but deep inside my own self-loathing pounded. I called myself a coward because I couldn’t step forward in her life. But I told myself it was for the best.
I mean, look at her. She’s so small, so delicate; I want to care for her like the little girl that she is, want to be her Daddy, and keep her safe and loved. And then there’s the other side of it – my gnawing need to consume her, my ideas of fucking her. The filth that plays over and over in my dreams with her at the center of every one.
None of this can be what she would want. Lurking is for the best because this obsession is dangerous, the dreams I have of her can’t be normal.
A need like mine would surely only end up harming her. And I could not take that chance. I’d miscalculated on an important decision once before and look what happened. The loss of half my lower leg is nothing.
My mistake took the life of an innocent woman, and that is something no one could forgive. Least of all me. For a year I didn’t know what would become of me. If at any moment I would be arrested. Branded a criminal. A murderer even. Yes, they say it was a mistake, but in my mind, a killer is a killer and I didn’t want my shame to ever touch her.
But, something shook loose in me yesterday and I branded her with the name I’ve had for her for far too long. The name I call out every time I jerk off and cum with her in my every fantasy.
Angel.
I drove like a mad man, making it here in under three hours, and thank Christ I pulled up now. I throw myself out of the Charger, the metal that replaces my foot scrapes on the ashphalt of the parking lot as I lunch forward, getting to the door just as her desperate hands find the handle.
She’s shaking, and a fury bubbles up inside of me in an emotional intensity I’ve never experienced. I know now how a man can lose himself and kill with his bare hands.
“Who did this to you?” I force calm into my voice, but it still bursts out at a volume that startles her. She gasps and flips her head in my direction. I’m on her, my hands brushing her wind-blown hair from her face, my thumbs rubbing to erase the tears, because it hurts me too much to see them there.
“What are you doing here?” She makes no effort to remove my hands, not that she could.
My brow draws tight, the muscles in shoulders and back twitch and tighten uncomfortably. The sight of her sweet face in this much turmoil is hurting me.
“I’m here for you. Tell me. Tell me right fucking now. Who made you cry?”
She brings one hand to flutter over her mouth and nose, and a new torrent of tears seep from her eyes. They’re tears of relief. I feel it. She needed someone to be here for her. Well I’m here now, and I’m going to make someone pay.
“Are they in there?” I look toward the door, and I instinctively know I’m right. Whoever hurt her, they are inside that building, because I feel her resistance in the slight tightening of her lips. “Stay behind me.” It’s an order and when she follows my command without question, I fall in love with her even more.
I blink once at the word that just hit me in the chest like a canon shot.
Love. Is that what this is? I lock my jaw tight and shake it off, my inner conflicts need not be solved this moment.
I swing the door open and secure her hand in mine reaching behind me; it’s like a doll’s hand in mine. I want to pick her up and carry her wherever she needs to go. I want her sweetness to cover me and my mark to cover her.
I want to see her sweet lips dripping with my semen, and my cock clenched in those tiny hands while she looks up at me with awe in her eyes.
And the name she will come to know as her everything. Daddy.
“Where?” I ask on a growl as I turn to look over my shoulder. “Where?” I repeat, louder and that one word booms off the walls in the back hallway as we step in from the outer door.
“He was in the office.” The words are barely audible from her shaking lips but I see a spark in her eye and it only makes my need to be her champion more furious.
