Severed Ties: A Dark Stalker Romance (Tainted Love Book 1)
Severed Ties: Chapter 8

It’s been three weeks since Clara threw me out of her apartment, and she thinks I went quietly, but the reality is, those hours we spent sitting on the couch watching her favorite television show were the first time I’ve felt at peace any place I wasn’t ending someone’s life or torturing them for information.

I’ve never claimed to be normal, and I’ve never craved normality, but for that one day, I got to enjoy it, and I got to enjoy the company of someone I shouldn’t want, shouldn’t need.

I left quietly, despite my need to take care of her in her time of need. No one would ever call me a nurturing person, quite the opposite really, but with her, I’m different. I want to be more. I want her to call me when she’s unwell and tell me when she has a bad day so I can make it better, and I want to be the person she tells when she’s struggling. But the way she looked at me when she told me to leave, the defiance and strength in her eyes despite the way her voice shook, made me realize she was not there yet. And that’s okay. I’ve already been playing the long game. What’re a few more months of watching from the shadows until my next opportunity to rescue her from herself?

“How’s everything looking?” Rayne asks as he strolls across the warehouse that will soon hold hundreds of bloodthirsty gamblers.

His dark eyes move around the large space, checking everything is as it should be. This isn’t really his part of the business, but he’s helped me with a few things now that neither of us has as much to enforce. Short of a few thugs who think they can deal on our corners, there hasn’t been much activity in months, and frankly, the two of us are bored. We’ve always had enemies. From the day we took our positions within the organization, we’ve had someone to get information from, someone to kill, and The Circle has given us something to do now that the city is controlled by two families that work together rather than against one another.

“We’re ready for opening night.” I shrug.

To me, opening this place was simple. Find some fighters, use a tried-and-true betting system, hire some security, and boom, we’ve got an underground fighting ring. But alas, it’s not that simple when it’s associated with the Saint James family, and therefore it has to be over the top. As such, the bars have rows of lavish alcohol. There are VIP areas on each side of the warehouse and premium seating around the ring. You wouldn’t think criminals would need all this shit to watch men get bloody, but I’ve never claimed to understand other people, even the ones as vile as myself.

“It looks that way.” He nods and gives the place another once-over. For once, his messy black hair is styled, and his dark suit has replaced his usual long-sleeve Henley. “Security tight?”

“Supposedly. Everett said it’s all set up, but he wants to come by tonight and make sure everything is working the way it should.”

“With Wynter so close to popping?” He raises his brows. “He hasn’t left her side in the last two weeks. She called me the other day to ask if I was willing to kidnap him just to give her a few hours of peace without him hovering over her.”

I laugh. I hate to think what he’s going to be like with a newborn, but I know he’s going to be the best dad, far better than mine or even his ever were. “Did you do it?”

Rayne’s lips turn up into a smirk. “No, I called him and told him if he didn’t move into another room for at least three hours, Wynter was probably going to murder him, and he took the hint. It was a tempting offer though.”

“She should have called me. I would have done it.” I smirk.

Fuck, I’d kidnap just about anyone right now just to feed the beast. It’s been fifteen days since I’ve seen someone else bleed, and each day that passes without feeding my thirst for blood, is another day closer I get to insanity. Tonight might be what I need. Each fighter has a clause in their contract that states these fights may or may not be a fight to the death, depending on their opponent. If I step foot into the ring tonight, there’s no way I won’t invoke that clause because my need to see the life fade from someone’s eyes grows deeper with each passing day.

“That’s why she didn’t call you.” He chuckles. “Plus, she probably wanted him to come back in one piece.”

“She’s got me there.”

I take long strides toward the bar and slip behind the heavy wood. Everything in this place cost a pretty penny, but the oak bar I had commissioned is by far my favorite thing we added. Of course the custom-built ring in the middle of the floor is nice, and the suede couches in the VIP areas feel like heaven even beneath my calloused fingers. The bar surpasses all of it.

“Drink?”

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

I busy myself making us each our liquor of choice, him whiskey, me vodka, and pass his across the bar. I’ve often thought if I’d lived a different life, a life without horror and blood, perhaps bartending could have been a path for me. Of course, in another life, I wouldn’t want to slaughter everyone who even slightly irritates me, so the point is moot, but when my mind wanders to what could have been, I wonder just how different my life would look.

“Thanks, man.” Rayne takes a long drink of his whiskey, draining the glass in one go.

I raise a brow. “Are you okay?”

“This whole becoming a father thing is freaking me out,” he admits. “I’m a ruthless murderer. What gives me the right to be someone’s dad?”

I’m the wrong person to be handing out parental advice. After all, my own was the most vile filth I can ever imagine walking the earth, but I get the impression that’s why he’s talking to me about it. I’m not capable of lying to save someone’s feelings because I don’t understand them. I don’t get fear or anguish. Neither emotion serves any purpose in my eyes. “Have you spoken to Emerson about this?”

He shakes his head and pushes his glass toward me to refill.

“Are you going to love and protect the kid the way you do your wife?”

“Of course,” he snaps.

“And are you going to give it whatever it needs, make sure it’s fed and has everything it could possibly need in the world? Make sure it never goes without and always knows it’s safe no matter what’s going on in the world? Are you going to be there for dance recitals and football games and any other bullshit extracurricular activities they want to do?”

“Obviously.”

“Then you’re going to be a great dad.” I shrug as if the answer is simple.

I’ve never wanted children, for obvious reasons, so I’ve never thought about what would make someone a good father, but I suppose I’ve learned on the job. There are a lot of pieces of shit in the underworld, deadbeat dads that would sell their firstborn for a piece of territory, men who would bet their wife in a game of poker, so I guess being a good father is just being the opposite of them.

He drains the second glass as soon as I push it across the bar, but his shoulders relax at the combination of my reassurance and the liquor. “Thanks, man. I think with Wynter about to pop, it makes our situation feel that much closer.”

“It’s normal to feel nervous when life changes, especially with something as permanent as a child, but you and Emerson will be fine, and you have so much support around you.” As long as he doesn’t think I’m going to babysit, I don’t bother voicing the last part. Anyone brave enough to leave their kid with me is an idiot, and I can’t see Emerson handing her firstborn child to a serial killer.

I check my watch and tap the bar impatiently. Everett should have been here already. The fighters are going to start arriving soon, and I want all this shit sorted before anyone arrives. I tug my phone from my pocket and dial his number, but when he doesn’t answer on the first few rings, I grow suspicious. Everett is always quick on the answer button. No matter what time of day, no matter what he’s doing, he never lets it get past the third ring.

“What?” he snaps down the line at the same time Wynter screams on the other end of the line.

“Is Wynter in labor?”

“Yes, now what do you want?”

“What the hell are you doing answering your phone?”

“Clearly wasting my time talking to you. Now tell me what you want, or I’m going to hang up.”

“You were supposed to be here to check the system.”

He’s silent for a second and another long scream has me holding the phone away from my face. I do not envy him right now. “I’ve got it sorted. Just sit tight and someone will be there.”

He ends the call before I can respond and I meet Rayne’s worried eyes across the bar. “You might want to head to the hospital.”