Chapter Six — Possession
929 Words
Ava POV
The next morning, Alexander was waiting for me outside my house.
Black leather jacket. Motorcycle. That devilish smirk.
I stepped outside in a hoodie and jeans, still half-asleep and definitely not expecting to find him leaned against the seat of his bike like he belonged there.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, clutching my bag tighter.
“Picking you up,” he said casually, holding out a helmet.
I blinked. “Picking me up? Since when?”
He shrugged. “Since last night.”
I stared at him, arms folded. “You didn’t ask me.”
“I don’t ask, Ava,” he said, stepping closer. “I take.”
His voice dropped low, dangerous. It sent a shiver through me.
I should have said no. I should have turned around and gone back inside.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I grabbed the helmet and got on the bike.
Because there was no denying it anymore.
I wanted him — even if he was going to ruin me.
The ride to school was fast and wild.
Wind in my hair, hands gripping his sides, my heart beating like a drum. It felt like flying and crashing at the same time.
We pulled into Cresthill High together — and silence fell.
Students stared.
Like really stared.
Alexander Kings never rode in with anyone on the back of his bike. Ever.
Until now.
He took off his helmet, ran a hand through his messy hair, and glanced at me like I was his.
The message was loud and clear: mine.
Tessa found me by the lockers, eyes wide. “Okay, wow. You didn’t tell me you were going full-throttle into madness.”
“I didn’t plan it,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice calm.
She looked at me, dead serious. “Ava… if you’re really falling for him, you need to know what comes with that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Secrets,” she whispered. “And pain. The people who love him always end up bleeding — one way or another.”
It wasn’t long before the rumors exploded.
> “Did you hear? He rode her in today.”
“She must be sleeping with him.”
“What’s so special about her?”
By lunch, I had been labeled Alexander’s girl.
And not in a sweet way.
They weren’t whispering anymore — they were taunting.
I tried to walk past the cafeteria line when a tray of pasta splashed onto the floor in front of me, barely missing my shoes.
I looked up to find Brielle — the same girl who’d tried to fight me in the parking lot before — smirking from across the table.
“Oops,” she said, voice dripping with fake sweetness.
I clenched my fists.
“Problem?” I asked.
“Not at all,” she said. “Just wondering how many girls Alexander’s going to chew up before he spits you out too.”
People laughed.
My face burned, but I refused to back down. “Funny. He seemed to have lost his appetite… for you.”
Her smile vanished.
She lunged — just as someone grabbed her arm and shoved her back.
Alexander.
He stepped between us, eyes blazing.
“One more time,” he warned, voice sharp as glass, “and I’ll make sure you don’t walk into this school again.”
Brielle sneered. “You’re protecting her now?”
He turned to face her, slowly.
“I’m not protecting her,” he said. “I’m claiming her.”
Gasps rippled around the cafeteria.
And then — silence.
Brielle stormed off.
I stared at Alexander, my heart slamming in my chest.
“You can’t just say stuff like that,” I said, breathless.
He looked at me. “It’s not just talk, Ava. You’re mine.”
I pulled him aside, near the vending machines. “You’re putting a target on me.”
He leaned in. “It was already there the minute I kissed you.”
After school, he didn’t let me take the bus. We rode back to my place, and the moment I stepped off the bike, he followed me to the porch.
“You’re serious about this?” I asked, not ready to open the door just yet.
Alexander shoved his hands into his pockets, watching me. “I don’t do this, Ava. I don’t do girlfriends. I don’t do emotions. But you…”
He stepped closer.
“You make me feel like I don’t have to keep pretending. Like I can just be real.”
I exhaled slowly. “You don’t scare me, Alexander.”
“You should.”
“But I don’t.”
His eyes burned into mine.
Then he pulled me closer by the waist, his voice low.
“If anyone touches you,” he whispered, “if they look at you the wrong way… I’ll end them.”
I didn’t doubt it.
His possessiveness wasn’t fake. It was real. Heavy. Intense.
But deep down… I liked it.
I wanted to be his obsession.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Later that night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
I should have been scared of what we were becoming. I should’ve felt out of control.
But instead?
I felt seen.
For the first time in a long time, someone wasn’t trying to change me, fix me, or mold me.
He just wanted me — all of me.
Flaws. Silence. Fire. Innocence.
Everything.
And that kind of want?
It doesn’t fade.
It burns.
- Writer
