Page 21 of The Watcher's Bride

“You know nothing about Max. You’re the one who is judging the book by its cover, and you know what, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Who I date is none of your business,” I snap, picking up my pace.

“I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t want to see you get hurt by some jerk who’s only after one thing,” Mike says. “You deserve a nice guy who’s going to appreciate the wonderful, intelligent woman you are.”

“Thanks, Mike, you’re a good friend,” I reply, wary that Mike will soon make a case for how he’s the nice guy I should be with. “So, read anything good lately?” I ask, wanting to steer the conversation into more neutral territory.

Mike takes the bait, as I knew he would. He can’t resist talking about the latest books he’s read, showing off his intelligence and literary knowledge. I zone out as he drones on, telling me about a book he’s decided to write since he thinks he’d do such a good job.

I’m grateful when we approach my building. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me home,” I say, coming to a stop outside the front entrance.

“You’re not home yet. I’m not leaving until I’ve seen you go inside your apartment,” Mike insists.

I don’t even bother to argue. Mike follows behind me as I head inside, and the first thing I see is that my apartment door is wide open, the hinges splintered from where it’s been kicked in.

“Oh my god!” I say, rushing inside. “Josef!” I cry hysterically, terrified they’ve hurt my cat or that he’s gotten out.

The rush of overwhelming relief I feel when he climbs out of his hiding place in the cupboard to wind around my legs is overtaken by shock and fear when I look at the rest of my apartment.

“Shouldn’t you call the cops? The intruder could still be here,” Mike hisses from the doorway.

I ignore him, surveying the ransacked apartment. Strangely, nothing seems to be missing. Whoever it was, they didn’t find what they were looking for. I can’t shake the thought that what they were looking for might have been me.

“There’s no one here,” I call out, but Mike doesn’t move.

Could my stalker have done this? If he did, he’s escalating. But he knows my movements well enough to know I wasn’t in.

A random burglar would have taken stuff. There’s a small amount of cash still in my bureau, and the TV and my laptop are untouched.

“I don’t think they took anything,” I call out as I continue to search.

That only leaves one possibility. My father sent someone.

As the realization dawns on me, I start to shake, and to my mortification, huge sobs erupt from me, and I break down.

The uncharacteristic display of emotion seems to finally give Mike the courage to move and he comes over, pulling me into a hug. I try to pull away, but he holds me firm.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you. We’ll call the cops, and they’ll find whoever did this, and insurance will cover anything that might have been taken. You’re safe, and I’m here for you, that’s the main thing,” he soothes, thinking my upset is because this is a standard break-in.

I can’t tell Mike why I don’t want the cops involved, he’ll ask questions. I just want him out of my apartment, and most importantly, I want him to let me go. Being this close to him has replaced my fear with revulsion.

“Thanks, Mike, I feel much better, I’ll call the police later,” I say, hoping he’ll release me.

“You know I’ll always protect you, I’ll always be here for you,” he promises, whispering in my ear, which only makes me more uncomfortable.

He cups my face in both his hands, and before I fully register what he’s doing, he kisses me in a slobbering feverish passion. I try to pull away, but he snakes his hand around my waist, pulling me close to him. I can feel his erection pressing into me and I place both of my hands firmly on his chest, finally managing to push him away from me enough that I can speak.

“What the fuck, Mike? Let me go!” I yell in shock and disbelief.

“Come on, Nora, stop fighting this. You know this is right,” he says before burying his face in my neck and kissing it.

“Get off me!” I say, my voice strangled and panicked.

He doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to me. He’s not stopping. He squeezes my breast and moans, the other hand fumbling with his belt. With numb horror, I try to contemplate what’s happening.

Finally, my survival instinct kicks in. I’m not going to let another man touch me without my consent.I bring my knee up with as much force as I can muster, hitting him where it hurts. .

“What the fuck, Nora?” he says incredulously, doubled over in pain.

“I told you to fucking stop!” I yell, slapping him across the face, my hurt and betrayal bubbling to the surface. I always knew Mike had a thing for me, but he seemed like a nice guy. Not the sort who’d try and take advantage of me when I was scared.

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