❂ Sequel to ❤ Stockholm Syndrome 🔫
!WARNING!
Contains:
❂ Violence
❂ Sexual Content
❂ Mild Use of Adult Language
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"What are you doing?"
Spinning around on my heels, I spot Vincent. His hands are d...
● WARNING ● This chapter contains sexual content. If you are not a fan of such, you can skip to the next chapter. OR You can still read it but at your own risk. Enjoy! ____________________________________
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It was too easy–getting her to go out with me. It was just as simple as kidnapping. The only difference is that she gave her consent.
I smirk as I drive away from Melgrove and back to Edgewood, passing an abandoned warehouse that made me remember some good people I hold close to my heart. I've been staying in Edgewood for a few months, needing some time to recuperate from the events that left me heartbroken and alone; events that cost me the person I deeply cared for. Roxanne–my late wife; my heart and soul...life will never be the same with her gone. Her feisty behaviour, her urge to escape my clutches, the way she eventually fell for me. Her death was like a stake to the heart, and I'm still coping with the loss to this day. However, rescuing Megan today made me feel a spark deep inside, one that I am more than willing to let ignite into a roaring flame of love and bliss.
But what if Megan doesn't like me for who I am? Everyone I've ever loved either tried to run away from me or kill me–but why? Am I not handsome enough? Am I that ugly that one would try to kill? Or is it my psychotic nature, as they refer to my demeanour?
I scowl, ignoring the thoughts that continuously bombard me, as I stare intently at the road beyond. The rain patters immensely on the windscreen and my windshield wipers swipe them away with as much force as possible. I soon reach the apartment building I am staying in and pull in the corner of the road to park. I rest my back against the seat, staring out the window at the rain, pelting down on the paves, as people bustle by for shelter.
Who knows what life has in store for me? Maybe this relationship I'm entering can flourish into something great. Maybe it's a chance for me to prove that I'm not the psycho people close to me thought I was; that I'm more than capable of being kind and compassionate, and not possessive. And today, I've done my first good deed, after a long while, and it feels good, albeit Zachary and Mitchell died in the process. They knew what they were getting themselves into.
