Page 19 of Stalked By the Alphas
Penny nods, though she doesn’t look entirely convinced.
I smile and head out, my eyes darting nervously up and down the street. There’s no sign of the masked man, but I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. I hurry back towards the high street, opting for the longer but more populated route this time.
As I walk, my mind races. I’m being ridiculous. There is no way a masked man could have just disappeared from my sight. I look over my shoulder at the alley and shudder. I can’t see into it from here with the sun positioned where it is. If he had stepped back into the dimness, maybe he was there, and I just wouldn’t have seen him.
I clutch my purchases tightly as I hurry down the busy high street. I’m so focused on getting home that I almost miss the police station as I pass it.
Pausing, I chew my lip as I debate whether to go in. Part of me wants to brush everything off as paranoia, but another part knows this card and photo exist.
Taking a deep breath, I push open the door to the station. A bored-looking officer glances up from his desk.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
I hesitate, suddenly feeling foolish. But I’ve come this far. “I... I’d like to report some suspicious activity,” I say.
The officer nods, gesturing for me to take a seat. As I sit, I pull out the envelope from my bag with trembling hands.
“Someone left these for me,” I explain, sliding it across the desk. “And there have been other things too - I think someone might be watching me.”
The officer picks up the envelope and flips the flaps open. He then reaches in and pulls out the card, turning it over and over again. “What is meant to be?” he asks, holding it up.
I blink. “What?” I ask and snatch it from him. It’s a blank white card. I take the envelope with a frown and peer inside. It’s empty. “What?” I murmur to myself. “I—I’m sorry,” I stammer to the officer. “I must’ve made a mistake.”
Clutching the blank card and envelope, I back out of the station, my heart thundering. My mouth has gone dry, and my anxiety has spiked to a dangerous level. My lungs feel like they are being squeezed as I struggle to take a breath.
Panic claws at my throat as I hurry down the street, desperate to get home. My eyes dart around frantically, convinced I’ll see that masked figure again. But the streets are normal - people going about their day, oblivious to my confusion and impending meltdown.
By the time I reach my cottage, I’m nearly hyperventilating. I fumble with my keys, dropping them twice before managing to unlock the door. Once inside, I slam it shut and lean against it, sliding down to sit on the floor, kicking the cam-bear further down the hallway.
“This isn’t happening,” I whisper, clutching the blank card. “I’m not going crazy.”
But aren’t I? The evidence points to the contrary. There was no masked magician card, no photo. Just this blank piece of paper I’ve apparently imagined into something sinister.
I force myself to take deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. Think, Hazel. Think rationally.
Could someone have switched the contents of the envelope? But when? It was in the bookshop and the only person who has been behind the counter is Mrs Lewis. Even in this state, I can’t believe that the nearly seventy-year-old woman is behind some plot to make me lose my mind.
“Get it together, Hazel,” I mutter to myself. “You’re not going crazy.”
But even as I say the words, doubt creeps in. What if I am? What if all of this is just my mind playing tricks on me?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. But it’s like a foghas dropped over my brain. I fumble in my bag for my tablets and stagger to my feet. When I reach the kitchen, I open the fridge warily, but see all the bottles neatly stacked, labels facing outwards as they are supposed to be. I grab one and uncap it, swallowing the tablets with a large gulp. My hands are shaking so much, I slosh water all down my front, but I barely feel the cold. I take two more tablets and barely make it to the stairs. I crawl up them, leaving the water halfway up as I fight back the sob that is trying to choke me. My throat closes up as I reach the top, and I flail as I can’t breathe. I can’t see. I scramble for breath and bang my head on the wall. Then, nothing.
12
ZACH
I sitat the side of the lake, unable to get Hazel out of my mind. She watched me pass her in the street earlier, but she wouldn’t have known it was me. I’m a little annoyed to be out here when I should be staking out her shop to see when she leaves. I want to leave the figurine where she will see it when she arrives in the morning.
My phone rings, and I answer it. “Noah. What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“Out by the lake with a dead body in the boot, ready to dump as soon as this idiot with his canoe leaves.”
Noah snorts. “Oh, fun. Rob, is it?”
“Yes. You’ve spoken to Carter?”
