Red Light: A Dark Stalker Romance (Book One) (Dangerous Games Series)

Chapter Eight - Alanna

I had been going through rooms and creating piles all morning and I was bored and lonely. Having Flick here the past few days had really not prepared me for being in my great big house alone. He had always been just around the corner, calling to me, teasing me, surprising the crap out of me. But today has been seriously devoid of human companionship. Or ghost companionship. There had been no sign of Wolfe since last night.

My cheeks burn when I think of last night. I had reacted to being stalked by a ghost in a strange way. Ghosts have always excited me, they just hadn't ever excited me before, if you know what I mean. Of course, this was my first real ghost, so I guess I didn't really have anything to compare it to. But just the thought of his ghostly breath on my neck was getting me wet again. Maybe I just really needed to get laid. I have been circling Flick like a hawk in heat. Is that a thing? Do hawks have times? I'd have to look that up.

Not that he wasn't feeling it. He totally was. I can tell when a man wants to get all up in it. It's easy, I'll let you in on the secret; are you breathing? Then he's willing. Just kidding! But I swear it feels that way sometimes. Of course there's also the fact that I'm alternative. Guys want to fuck me just for the novelty. Something to scratch off their bucket list: fucked a goth. It was honestly annoying. Like I was just gonna hop on it because you want me to. Get over yourself you know? But it comes with the territory.

People have always misunderstood me. Especially as I get older and don't change to be considered "normal". The way I present myself means just as much to me as it does to you. How I desire to present myself is just different. I found what makes me feel comfortable and the most me. I decided that I would rather advertise who I am upfront than provide a false representation of myself that feels like a costume I'm forced to wear. A part I'm supposed to play. No. That's not me. I am who I am, and I have no problem showing that to the world.

I had a friend in high school that was the opposite of me. She hid everything about herself to all but a select few. She said that the world didn't deserve to know her. That only specific people had earned that right. Sometimes I wish I held who I was closer to my chest. There's less chance to be burned that way. But in the end I think both choices take different strengths, and mine just falls in line with the areas I'm strongest in. All this to say, we are all who we are, and judging each other without the knowledge of knowing one another is ignorant.

I sigh and exit the sitting room to make my way to the kitchen, which was quickly becoming my favorite room in the house. It's funny really, because while I visited it was the sunroom in the back of the house. Grandma Carver had turned it into a sunroom/greenroom and there were wonderful smelling flowers surrounding the chairs in there. I used to sit in there and read for hours with Grandma Carver. We were both bookworms.

As I start looking through the fridge I think about Flick's offer. I'd much rather spend a little time in town than eat something quick and spend the rest of the day alone. I bite my lip and my stomach rumbles. I shut the fridge and head to the bathroom attached to my room. I look in the mirror and size myself up. Today I was wearing a black spiked collar, a button up white blouse with bats covering it and puffy short sleeves. A black torn up skirt with black fishnet tool that poked out of the bottom, fishnet stockings and my combat boots. My make up was actually pretty subtle for me, just a gradient of light pink to deep purple surrounding my eyes with the standard black cat eye eyeliner. My hair was in low pigtails.

I touch up my lips and kiss the mirror. Alright, I'll get a burger. And see Flick. I had been forming a theory about our unnatural attraction to each other. There was definitely a natural attraction there, but there were times when it felt like we were being pulled together by an outside force. I didn't know what to make of it and it seemed Flick was a lot more skeptical than I originally thought. I'd seen him cut his eyes at my mention of ghosts.