Page 7 of Marked By my Stalker
“Well,” Brick continues, oblivious as ever, “I’m gonna head back to the party then. You mind, babe?” He leans onto my cheek for a sloppy drunken kiss, but I pull away.
He doesn’t seem to care. Oblivious as ever, he leaves, jogging back to the house at the end of the street with music blaring out the windows into the night.
Stomach churning, and a little embarrassed, I redirect back to the man beside me. “Sorry about that. He’s… yeah.”
“I see that. How long have you two been together?”
“Oh, umm… eight months maybe. He’s… a train wreck, but my mom loves him. She thinks he walks on water.”
The giant nods slowly, pushing back the streaks of silver in his hair. “You do a lot to keep your mom happy.”
I glance down at the pebble I’m kicking along the dark sidewalk. “She’s struggled a lot. I’m sure you know, but she and my dad were high school sweethearts. They did everything together, and I was their only child, so… I don’t know. I feel this weight to look after her and keep her happy, even if she drives me crazy while I do it.”
“You should tell her what you want.”
“Oh, I do. I’m not a complete pushover. I just… I know that I’m all she has left, ya know? I don’t want her worrying about me.”
He pauses for a long moment, just watching the sidewalk ahead of us as we make our way down the street. “You busy tomorrow?”
“I have exams in the morning,” I lift my face to the breeze, “but tomorrow afternoon I’m free.”
“It’s a done deal then. I’ll pick you up at noon, and we’ll head out to the mountains, take some pictures, and see if you’ve got what it takes.”
I laugh. “Oh, this is a test now?”
“Life is a test, little girl. Get used to it.”
Little girl.
The words fall out rough and low. He clears his throat like he wants to take them back, like they didn’t sit right in his mouth. But for some reason, I kind of liked it. It made me feel small and precious, like I’m someone he wants to care for.
I guess that’s true considering my mother is paying him.
For the first time all night, there’s silence between us as we pass the lit-up windows of the library. Students are hunched over laptops and stacks of paper, faces drawn with defeat. I wonder how many of them are actually studying and how many are just pretending not to fall apart. I’m firmly in the second camp.
“It’s just a camera,” I say finally, voice half-lost in the hush around us. “It’s not life or death. You should learn to lighten up, C-lot stalker. You’re far too serious.” I slide his jacket off my shoulders and hand it back with a grin. “See you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” His face is emotionless as he reaches for his coat. Almost like he’s being tortured by something. “Name’s Jack.”
“Jack,” I whisper under my breath as I stare toward him, a feeling crawling under my skin I’ve never felt before.
I think I like it.
Chapter Four
Jack
Fucking Christ.
This is why you don’t talk to the damn subject. It’s why distance is imperative. I have no fucking business talking to this little girl. She’s nineteen.
Nine-fucking-teen.
I say it like a mantra in my head, pushing down the parts of me that noticed every fucking curve of her soft little body.
What the hell would her father say?He’d call me a sick fuck, he’d come at me with the fury of a man possessed, and he’d be warranted.
The streetlights outside cast warped shadows across the low-pile motel room carpet and the hum of the air conditioning does absolutely nothing to drown out the weight pressing against my ribs. What the hell did I do? I invited her, like it was casual, like it was fine, like she’s not my dead buddy’s daughter, like she’s not nineteen years old!
