1. Storm

Chapter 1

Storm

C risp winter air blows across my skin, making goosebumps rise as I growl at the sky. With Christmas only a few days away, the ground is covered in a heavy layer of snow, and more is falling from the sky in thick flurries. I tug my beanie lower over my ears and adjust my scarf to cover my face as I watch the people coming and going from the tall building across the street.

Despite the heavy snowfall, the streets are busy with people doing their last-minute holiday shopping. But the one person I've been waiting almost an hour to see still hasn't left his apartment. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check the security feeds for what feels like the hundredth time, huffing when it comes up empty. Settling back against the bench, I scroll through social media and even play a few rounds of my current favorite card game. Finally, after almost forty-five minutes my phone pings. I switch to the security app and hum excitedly when my Sunshine walks out of his condo, locks the door and heads for the elevator. Switching cameras, I follow Ashby's every move through the building until I lay eyes on him as he steps outside.

His pale cheeks flush red in an instant, and he shivers, pulling his heavy coat tighter around himself. He needs a fucking scarf and a hat and gloves and to take my father's car service instead of walking in this weather. Yet he pulls up his hood and starts his trek down the sidewalk. The urge to follow him is strong but I resist. I don't have much time to do what I need to before he returns.

When Ashby disappears around the corner, I cross the street and enter the building. I wave to the front desk guy and move for the elevator. He's not the man I hired when I bought the building after Ashby moved in. That man's wife got a job across the country, and he went with her when she moved. I, of course, looked into the new man's background. Nothing suspicious popped up, so I allowed him to be hired.

The elevator arrives quickly, and I hit the button for Ashby's floor, fingers drumming impatiently on the handrail, glaring at the numbers as they seem to move impossibly slowly. Finally, the door slides open and I stomp out, heading directly for Ashby's door. I pull a key from my pocket and slip inside, relocking the door behind me.

I take in the condo, noting all the little touches that show this place belongs to my Sunshine. Even a year and a half after leaving him, I still know everything about Ashby. He might not realize I've been watching him all this time, but I have kept tabs on every part of his life.

My dad and Marry, Ashby's mother, tried to keep us apart. They took one look at the bruises covering his body and were convinced I was hurting sweet Ashby. They forced me to stay with my uncle, telling me if I didn't leave or tried to contact Ashby, they would hide him away somewhere I would never find him again.

But Ashby was mine, and I would never give him up.

No matter what.

And soon, I would come home and take what's mine. I was just biding my time. Once things were in place, I could return, and Dad and Marry would never be able to separate us again.

Until then, I was left hiding in the shadows, stalking Ashby without anyone ever knowing. I had returned every few months since I left, watching my Sunshine as he went about his life. When he moved out of my dad's house and into this condo, I bought the building, hired my own security team and installed a top-of-the-line security system to keep him safe even when I couldn't be here. Of course, I kept my visits secret and bought the building under a hidden shell company so my dad wouldn't know, but I was always watching my Sunshine.

Walking into the living room, I smile as I take in the massive Christmas tree that's nearly touching the roof and fills one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's covered in multicolored lights, strings of popcorn, silver garland and a collection of handmade ornaments I know he loves collecting each year. A white sparkling blanket lays beneath the tree with a train track on top of it. Small houses and little figurines also surround the tree, creating a sort of winter wonderland.

A few wrapped presents are next to the tree, and I kneel beside them. I pull a small box labeled "From Santa" out of my pocket and place it with the other gifts, knowing Ashby won't notice the addition or even question its existence. When they moved in with us as teens, Ashby and his mom joined our family tradition of giving anonymous Santa gifts to everyone each year.

Satisfied, I stand and walk to Ashby's room, unwilling to leave until I mark this place with my scent and my come.