Page 33 of No Mercy In Red

Fuck. I couldn’t say he wasn’t sat at my door; he was actually inside my apartment, waiting for me like he knew exactly when I’d be home. She’d be calling me fucking crazy, she’d call an intervention.

“Yeah, I’d told him I was almost home and then he was there when I arrived.”

“Did you have hot raunchy sex?” She shrieked, giggling like a maniac.

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress my smile. “Yes, Lara, we fucked.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Why are you not happier about this? Was it bad? Did he fuck and run?”

“No, definitely not bad, and he didn’t fuck and run,” I admitted quietly. Memories of his bruising kisses and possessive touch flashed vividly through my mind, sending heat pooling in my core, despite the sting that still lingered on my now bruised ass. “If anything, it was… too good.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He’s just… intense,” I said carefully, biting my lip. “Very intense.”

“Like,Fifty Shadesintense, orserial killerintense?” Lara laughed jokingly, but a chill ran down my spine regardless. Little did she know how close to home that statement actually was.

“More likeYouintense,” I joked back weakly, forcing a laugh, trying to shake of the uneasy feeling clawing at the edges of my mind. “Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’ve got a ton of paperwork to catch up on.”

“Ugh fine,” Lara huffed dramatically. “Boring ass, love you, byeeeeeee”

“Love you too, Lar.” I responded with a heavy sigh.

I spent the week completely wrapped up in Connor. Our texts became constant – flirtatious banter, teasing sarcasm, and late-night sexting that left me flushed and desperate.

‘If I had a dollar for every time some fuckwit called in asking if I knew their password, I swear I’d be a billionaire.’

I chuckled to myself, responding back quickly:

Well, if I had a dollar every time some fucking old creep stared at me like I was a piece of meat, I’d also be a billionaire.’

I watched the little three dots appear then disappear constantly, painfully waiting for his reply. He made my work days so much more bearable when we spent the days complaining about assholes that we encountered.

‘I really hope that was a joke Maxine, because I don’t want to have to come down there and teach everybody in that building who you fucking belong to.’

My cheeks flushed as I pressed my thighs together to ignore the sensation that was building down there. Fuck. His possessiveness really should terrify me, but the thought of him teaching another man a lesson for leering at me sent my temperature running hot.

‘Calm down stalker, they only look, never touch. My body is yours.’

That small confession at the end of the text made me instantly regret pressing send. Did I just tell him that my body was his? Jesus Christ, kill me now.

‘That’s my girl.’

I smiled like an idiot despite myself, deciding to quickly place my phone in my desk drawer before I said anymore stupid shit.

Every morning, we’d sit at Melinda’s together, sipping coffee, lost in conversation about everything and nothing. I’d never laughed as freely as I did with him, and I’d certainly never felt so seen. Connor seemed genuinely interested in me – not just my body or looks – but me. It was refreshing, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. We had to skip our evening coffee dates, apparently work was in overdrive at the minute and he wasn’t finishing until late, sometimes midnight. I’d never had a man communicate with me the way Connor did. I was used to being told the bare minimum, being ignored, ghosted. But Connor kept me constantly updated, letting me know when he couldn’t be there, and letting me know why, occasionally sending those black roses to my door. It was like a breath of fresh air. But despite the open communication, I couldn’t shake the unease the lingered, he was still hiding so much, he had known exactly where I worked without me telling him. I shouldn’t have been surprised, he was a fucking stalker after all. But despite the fact I knew that he had stalked me, my instincts screamed at me to just stay cautious. How much did this man truly know about me? How deep did his stalking go? I was almost ninety percent sure I hadn’t left my door unlocked when I left for the weekend, but how else would he have gotten in? And how did he know when I was going to get back? All of these questions should have had me running as far away from this man as I could possibly get. But every touch, every whispered word and heated glance he gave me, he managed to shatter my defences a little more.

Friday came around quicker than expected thanks to Connor, bringing with it an unexpected visit to the office. I was hunched over my desk, sorting through the endless paperwork that seemed to multiply daily, when the main door swung open, and a wave of tension swept through the room, everybody going deathly silent. I popped my head outof my office door and watched as two police officers stepped inside the building. My heart leaped into my throat, sweat instantly forming on my palms. The tall, broad shouldered one with dark hair swept his gaze over to me, before resuming glancing around the rest of the room. My pulse quickened, my body going rigid with panic.

Fuck.

“Good afternoon,” the shorter of the two officers said. I forced myself to stay calm as I watched him speak, holding my composure.

“We just have a few routine questions,” he continued “no need to stop working, we’re simply following some leads.”

I sank back into my office, falling into my chair. I pretended to focus on my paperwork, listening intently as they spoke quietly with my supervisor just outside my office door. I caught snippets – words like ‘disappearances,’ ‘connections,’ and ‘tapes.’ Each word sending my heart rate skyrocketing. It felt like an eternity before they finally turned and left, only taking a brief look into my office on the way out. Only after the door closed did I let myself truly breathe, leaning heavily against my desk. This was getting dangerous – too dangerous. I glanced at the clock, desperate to leave. I needed to think, needed space. I felt the walls closing in on me slowly, feeling like I was being suffocated.

By the time 3pm arrived, I practically ran from the office, desperate for air, desperate to clear my head. I sat in Melinda’s Café, nursing my coffee, lost in thought. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mel’s hand gently touched my shoulder.

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