Page 5 of Obsessive Stalker

I remember his promise from before. That he won’t touch me in that way without my permission.

Does he think I’ll give permission? And if so…is he right?

My eyes dart to the door and he laughs.

“Kitten, I think you know me well enough by now,” he says. “You know I’ve secured the door. As well as the perimeter of the property. The cop they stationed on the corner is as lazy as he is gullible; it wasn’t hard to lure him away. Once again, I’m disappointed in the security measures in place. A single cop. A can of mace. Is there not a man in your life who cares for your safety? Your father, perhaps? Or a boyfriend?”

“My father doesn’t give a fuck about me,” I reply. “And don’t pretend you don’t already know I don’t have a boyfriend. Like you didn’t stalk me and find out.”

He laughs.

“So youdoknow me well,” he says, his voice rich and thick like honey. “You have several admirers. But you don’t have a boyfriend, that’s true. Not that it would matter if you did. Boyfriends can be dealt with.”

There’s danger laced through every word.

“Your mother doesn’t understand why I’m after you,” he continues. “She thinks I want your money. Your trust fund. As though I go through all of this trouble to steal such a small sum.”

He strides around the bed to the other side, and I cower against the pillows. He turns his back to me, taking a framed photo off the wall and looking at it.

“This is the house in East Hampton,” he comments, looking down at the candid shot of me at eight years old, in a pink dress, smiling and holding an ice cream cone. “I admit, one of the reasons for my delay is that I checked that house first. I thought for sure that your parents would hide you there.”

“You went to our house in the Hamptons?” I ask faintly.

He turns to me, his eyes smoldering and dark.

“Why would your father hide you here?” he asks, though it seems to be a question he’s asking himself rather than me. “Here, where you’re secluded. Here, with only a single cop, no security cameras, and nobody around to hear your screams?”

I shiver at the mention of my screams and back away on the bed, the little bit of distance left to get away from him before I fall off the side.

“It’s as though he wants me to capture you,” he says to himself. “I’ve looked at this every way that I can, have watched this home for two weeks, trying to see if there’s some sort of catch, some trap he’s laying. You’re a sitting duck. Wide open for the taking.”

He turns to me.

“You said you don’t speak to your father. Why?”

“It’s a long story,” I reply.

He walks around the bed and sits across from me now. I watch as he turns the picture frame around, opening the back panel and removing the photograph and folding it in half.

Then he tucks the photo in his pocket, tossing the now empty picture frame down on the comforter.

“He hasn’t done much to protect his little girl and I want to know why,” he says.

“Because he doesn’t care,” I say quietly. “I’m a nuisance to him. He wanted a son. Instead, he got only daughters. I’m the youngest, the last baby my mom could have before she had to have an emergency hysterectomy after giving birth to me. Basically, I’m the reason my mother couldn’t have more kids. So not only did I make the mistake of being born a girl, but I also eliminated any possibility of my father having a son.”

Damien stares at me and I can tell he’s listening, thinking hard about my words. Then he reaches a hand to my face, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear and then cupping my cheek.

“You should have been protected.”

“Yes. Fromyou,” I agree.

“From any threat that might come your way,” he replies. “I’m not a threat, my dear. But your parents don’t know that. They should have done everything possible to protect you. I shouldn’t have been able to break in so easily. What were they thinking, hiding you in a secluded home with enough bedrooms to ensure you never heard me pick the lock and open the door from the other side of the house?”

My cheeks heat beneath his touch and I can’t seem to break my gaze away from his. He has this hypnotic hold over me. I’m holding my breath, waiting for whatever he will say next.

“But you’ll be protected from now on,” he continues. “My lovely fiance. And soon, my wife.”

Wife.

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