Author's Note From TurboWiz70 : Thank you again for your reviews! Cliffy and I (you know, me and Cliffy, Cliffy and me, together) are really happy with the support we (her and me) have gotten so far :) You guys rock! Here's the next chapter *inserts maniacal laugh*. Read, review, enjoy!

Author's Note From Cliffhanger Girl: Your support and constant reviews on each chapter keeps this story going, so please keep em' coming. Now if just about where the actual story starts to unfold. Be prepared for the actual boy behind the mask ;)


Trespasser

Chapter 4: The Way She Feels

ELI'S POV

Still furious at myself for what happened that evening, I went against my better judgment and went for a walk in the night. Darkness covered me as I traveled on the sidewalk; I passed a few houses until I noticed Clare's. I could see ever so clearly through the front windows and into her living room.

I bet I sounded like a stalker just then.

I don't care though. I took advantage of having her in my sight, knowing that she probably would not want to see me again and I knew I could not dare go to her. I gazed through the window and saw her sitting on the couch with that jerk while they watched a movie.

Almost instantaneously, I felt a bubble of hate and disgust burst in my stomach. She told me that this guy wasn't her boyfriend, which relieved me to no end, but I still could not help but feel a strong hatred towards him.

I averted my eyes from him and put them on Clare. I could see her reddened eyes as she sat curled up on one side of the couch, clutching a pillow tightly, while this guy sat on the other side. She had been crying, but why? Was it because she had to sit next to this guy? Or was it because of me being a jerk towards her earlier today? Or was it a combination of both? It doesn't matter what reason; I felt sympathy for her. No one so gentle and timid should be sheltered in a living room crying with someone like that.

I wanted to be sure that she was okay; I wanted to be sure her tears would subside and that she would end up enjoying the rest of her night – which, thanks to me, started off on a bad note. Being as stealthy as I could, I crouched down and used the cover of night to hide me as I crawled towards her window. Thankfully, the couch wasn't facing the window, so they did not see me as I gazed inside...


CLARE'S POV

I do not want to be down here watching a stupid movie with Fitz. The only reason I was in the room was because I was worried that he would make another attempt to damage my Stalker Angel books and I knew that the masked boy would not always be there to save them...like he would even care to anyways. Even if he did, he'd probably just give it to me again and push me away like I was nothing, as he did hours before.

The very idea brought tears to my eyes. Not wanting Fitz to get suspicious or start asking questions, I quickly rubbed my eyes. Unfortunately, he noticed my feeble attempt to hide my tears.

"Are you okay?" he asked bluntly.


FITZ'S POV

Sweet, she was crying. When there's crying, that means I had to comfort her, and nothing turns a girl on more than knowing she has a big, strong, lenient shoulder to cry on.

"I'm fine," she said, her eyes becoming puffy from the tears that were continuing to flow down her pale cheeks.

"Then why are you crying?" I asked, scooting a bit closer to her.

"I'm not," she lied, rubbing her eyes even more.

"Clare, Clare, Clare," I sighed, "You're not a good liar."

"I-I'm –."

"Come on, Clare," I said, sliding so close to her that our legs were almost touching, "What's on that pretty little mind of yours?"

"Nothing," she said. She stood up, probably planning on escaping to her room; but my opportunity was right in front of me and it would not slip away so easily on my watch. I quickly grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into my lap.


CLARE'S POV

I wanted to get away from Fitz before he pressed the issue any further, but this time, I was being held against him.

"Fitz, let me go," I demanded, struggling to get free from his strong, tight grip.

"Just tell me what's wrong," he said, his tone husky and deep.

"It's none of your business," I growled, trying to unclasp his arms so I could break away.

Suddenly, I felt myself being thrown onto the couch, my back against the cushions. Next thing I know, he was gripping my wrists in a death grip above my head, and he was on top of me.

"What are you doing? Are you insane? Get off of me!" I hollered.

I became terrified as I felt two things: his lips on my neck and a boner on my thigh.

"Stop! Stop! STOP!" I screamed at him.

"What? Do you want me to put a mask on? Will you fuck me then? Huh?" he sneered, chuckling darkly while continuing to kiss down the revealed skin from my V-neck shirt. My heart was sinking into my stomach, a wave of nausea overpowering my fear as I continued to feel his chapped, rough lips against me and his hands go to my thighs.

"Stop it, please," I choked out through a strangled sob, tears getting caught between my lips and dripping down my neck. I whimpered, feeling his rough, ice cold hands rubbing up and down the sides of my thighs, his fingernails inching closer to my lower region with each forced action.

"Please Fitz, I'll do anything. J-Just stop," he only laughed at my plea, pressing his lips against my earlobe, "That's right Clare, you will do anything, and anything, is exactly this. Now shut up and enjoy yourself. Maybe for once you'll crack a goddamn smile."

All hope was being lost as I felt his hands roaming up to the sides of my chest, his ears pressing against every inch of my skin he could get his lips on. I sobbed, feeling my throat getting drier and rougher with each touch from Fitz.

I then heard the front door slam open and loud, pounding footsteps move towards the couch.

"Get off her!" I heard a familiar voice shout at Fitz before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him off of me.

I felt him being peeled away from me and I saw his body being thrown on the ground. Relieved, but still terrified, I turned my head and saw the masked boy standing there; I was breathing heavily as I noticed him looking at me. He quickly broke his gaze with me and turned back to Fitz, who was struggling to his feet.

"What are you doing here, freak?" he spat, venom dripping from his tone.

He did not answer; instead, he stood in front of the couch, therefore blocking Fitz's path to me. I was shaking; Fitz pinned me down against my will, touched me without permission, and now he and the masked boy were here. It was becoming really intense for me, too intense.

I zone out for a minute in all the confusion and, the next thing I know, the two of them were throwing punches at each other. Gasping in horror, I stand up and try to break up the fight.

"Stop it! Both of you! STOP IT!"

Suddenly, Fitz pushed me away from them and I stumbled on my own two feet. I then fell over a footrest, hit my head, and then, knew no more…


Fifteen minutes later…


I felt my back against something soft as something cold rested on my forehead. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in my room. Wondering how I got here, I sat up and felt a damp washcloth fall off my forehead and onto my lap.

I sat up slowly, and began remembering what happened. Fitz was making a move on me, the masked boy showed up at my house, the two of them got into a fight, and then my disoriented self became knocked out in the process.

It was so strange.

Hours ago he didn't want anything to do with me, but now he was saving me? I just did not understand it. It was plain and simple, he was far too confusing a person for me to figure out, and the mixed signals were only making this situation worse.

I turned to my bedside table and saw a piece of paper with writing on it. Having an idea who wrote it, I picked the message up and began reading.

Sorry for breaking in. I couldn't just sit back and let him do that to you. He went too far that time, crossing a boundary that no man should cross with a delicate, fragile, innocent young woman. I hope you feel better.

Sincerely,

Masked Boy

A mix of appreciation and anger filled me. I was grateful that he stopped Fitz before things went further and that he brought me to my room, but how could he do this to me? He was clearly like everyone else and did not care; he proved that to me hours ago. Why would he do this to me? He was leading me on and I could not take it much longer.

I wanted to cry again, but a knock at the door distracted me. I put the note down, and went to the door, holding the side of my head up with my right hand. I opened it without thinking, and when I saw who it was, I gasped.

Him.

END OF CHAPTER 4


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Who do you think is at Clare's bedroom door?

Hint: Do not assume it is who you think it is.

Love you guys,

Cliffhanger Girl and TurboWiz70

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