Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
I sit there wondering why this guy was so weird, until he shows up to my side of the car, taking my hand. We walk up my apartment steps; he quietly watches me turn the key and go inside, letting the door shut between us.
“I’ll be seeing you, Clarrisa," he says through the door. "Sweet dreams.”
I walk upstairs into my lonely apartment. I approach my window, staring at Vance as he leans against the car, his eyes taking me in. I should be scared. I should call the cops. But I take off my top, letting him see me in my black lace bra through the safety of the glass between us. My hands roam up my body and latch on to my breasts. My hands knead as wetness pools at my center. All the while, I wonder what it will be like if he came into my apartment in the middle of the night and touched me while I slept.
Chapter Three
VANCE
I feel like a junkie picking at the scab that drugs left behind. Only this addiction isn’t imaginary. Thoughts of Clarissa are like the sweet release of opium in my veins.
I can’t shake her from my mind. She is like a bolt of lightning forging her way into the darkness. I can’t eat, drink, or sleep. I’ve turned into a real pussy fixated on just her.
I walk through the haze of delusion, thinking about her raven hair and sweet bubblegum scent. Nothing in my life seems to matter. My entire world is now a restless blur. Restless nights have led to a total obsession that has led to me parked outside her apartment, night after night.
The first night I went to her apartment, I sat there in the car and just stared at her window like a fucking pervert. That was just a hit of a joint. I’ve needed something stronger, something to bring me into oblivion. I’ve foolishly thought that if I saw her again, I would snap out of whatever trance she’d put me in, but the addiction just got worse.
I’ve abandoned every single responsibility in my life, and I've become consumed with knowing the most minuscule aspect of her life.
One time, I watch her as she packs her backpack and runs to the subway, her large bag falling loosely on one arm while she tries to not spill the hot coffee in her cup.
I follow her at the college campus. Usually she is alone, but once in a while she will casually be talking to a classmate. There is no one she has any kind of meaningful connection with. It pleases me to see that she avoids all the men who surround her. I'm not sure if it is shyness or just disinnterest on her part, because for the guys', they want nothing more than to get into my girl's pants. I crack my knuckles as I watch the boys earnestly, seeing if any dare cross the line with my raven. I know how to stay calm. How to be focused, but with her, my control seems paper thin, here and gone in a flash.
My raven is smart. Her course load is all physics and calculus. I sit in the back of her classes and observe as she scribbles on a piece of paper, trying to keep up with the cocksucker professor.
On occasion, she raises her hand and asks him to repeat himself. The motherfucker rolls his eyes at her as if she is a burden making some sort of unreasonable request. The asshole was talking too fast for her to catch everything coming out of his mouth. I want to put a gun to his head to let him feel the discomfort he is causing her. I’ll have to remember to make a visit so he knows who he is messing with.
After classes, she usually runs home and stays in all night.
I’ve been camping outside her place, watching from the back seat of my car. I get Enzo, my manager at the club, to make runs, bringing me food or anything else I may need. I don’t even shower. I live in my car. I want to be close if she needs me or, God forbid, she is in danger.
One morning, she skips school and heads to another apartment across town. A tiny redhead opens the door. They hug before rushing inside, running in and out every few minutes, loading a small coupe. A man follows them out, slurring his words and barely able to stand straight while he yells at them. Calling them s and pieces of trash. I see red. My blood is on fire. I'm not someone you mess with. I'm about to get out of my car and bust the fucker's head in on the pavement, but Clarissa and the redhead get into the coupe and drive off. I follow them, making a mental note to pay the man a visit at some point.