Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
A sob causes her voice to crack and I clench my fist against the steering wheel, imagining I’m crushing this Derrick motherfucker’s throat in my hand.
“Then one day I realized he was following me home. I totally freaked on him. I was yelling at him. I told him I never wanted to see him again. And then it got really bad.”
“Bad, how?”
“We had to move. He would leave rats in my locker. He made Photoshop pictures of my face on naked women’s bodies. He called in bomb threats to movie sets my aunt was working on. He was really out of control. And then he moved back to Canada because his mom was sick and his deadbeat dad had grown sick of him.”
“But he’s back now.”
“Yes,” she murmurs, a tear flowing down her cheek, a tear that makes me want to lean across and kiss away her pain.
Fuck.
This is getting harder by the second.
This Derrick motherfucker doesn’t deserve to breathe.
“This is his handwriting. And it’s the sort of fucked-up thing he’d do. I don’t know why he can’t leave me alone. We never dated. We never even kissed. We just read books together in the library sometimes. And then he comes out with all this crazy stuff…”
She breaks off into sobs, cluching her hands together, making sounds that force me to reach across and lay my hand on her shoulder. I can’t imagine sitting here stoically when my woman is pouring out so much vivid pain.
She stills when I lay my hand upon her, but then she looks up at me, a brave smile on her perfect lips.
“I’m okay. It’s okay.”
“What crazy stuff?” I ask, even if part of me doesn’t want to know.
“He’d tell me he loved me. That we were destined to be together. That he knew the moment he saw me. And that we were destined to have a family together. It was too much too fast. It was just insanity.”
I slowly remove my hand, feeling like somebody’s just punched me in the gut.
She’s describing exactly how I feel about her.
How would she react if I started spewing the same words her stalker said?
This just got more complicated.
If telling her was a bad idea before, it’d be like setting off a bomb now.
But I don’t think I can hold back.
“I’m guessing you didn’t feel the same,” I say.
“No.” She paws at her face. “Not even close.”
“I suppose you don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
I try to keep my voice as casual as I can, giving no sign of the maelstrom of need swirling beneath it all.
“What, love at first sight?” she asks.
I shrug. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“Well, what would you call it?”
I stare at her hard, at the shape of her mouth, the fullness of her cheeks, the uncertain glimmer in her eyes. “Possession at first sight,” I say.
She makes a whimpering sound that would cause me to claim her lips with mine if she hadn’t said what she just did.
The thing that freaked her out about this bastard was how quickly he came onto her.
She’d probably be massively freaked out if I essentially did the same thing, throwing myself at her as suddenly as this Derrick asshole did.
But there’s another part of me that wants to do it, do it right now because she’s looking at me like she feels the same.
Or is that just wishful thinking?
Goddamn, this is hard.
“Are you going to call the police?” I ask, changing the subject.
“They were never much help before.” She sighs, letting her gaze drop. “We contacted them loads of times when I was a kid. The thing is, he always does things in a way where we can’t arrest him. He’s sneaky and careful. If he really has planted a bug, he wouldn’t have been seen. And it’s not like paying somebody to deliver a letter is illegal.”
I sigh darkly. “Well, you can’t stay there until this is sorted.”
“I’ll get a hotel room, I guess, but it’s not like my aunt’s inheritance is unlimited. And I want to save it for… you know, my baby.”
Our baby, I almost roar at her, correcting her.
But somehow I manage to keep that to myself.
“Stay with me,” I say, the idea exploding out of me before I have a chance to use caution.
She flinches. “What?”
“If you want to save your money, stay with me. I’ll have somebody comb your apartment for bugs. And my building has the best security money can buy. You’ll be much safer there than in a hotel.”
I rattle these justifications off like I’ve been waiting to get her back to my apartment for a long time, and that’s how it feels. Even if it’s only been hours, it feels like weeks, like years I’ve needed to get my curvy-as-fuck woman alone in my home.