After concluding the deal with the Mexicans, I find myself watching Skylar Davies twenty-four-seven.
The other day, when I got close to her at the store, I could feel the fear vibrating from her.
She’s aware I’m watching her, and even at home, she’s constantly on guard and glancing around as if she expects me to creep out of the shadows.
I’m not going to lie. I’m enjoying this little game of cat and mouse way too fucking much.
Sitting on the other side of the restaurant, where Skylar and her father are enjoying dinner, the corner of my mouth lifts as I stare at her.
Topolina.
Calling her ‘little mouse’ seems fitting. Just like a cat, I’ll play with her before biting off her fucking head.
I watch as she smiles at her father and says something before she gets up and walks to the back of the restaurant, where the restroom is.
I wait a few seconds before I climb to my feet and follow her. I glance around to make sure no one’s paying attention to me before I slip into the restroom.
Finding the switch for the lights, I flick it off, plunging the room into darkness.
“Crap,” I hear her mutter. It takes another few seconds before the stall door creeks open. “I can’t see a freaking thing.”
Standing right by the exit, she’ll have to pass me to get out of the restroom, and I don’t have to wait long.
I hear her cautiously moving closer, and suddenly, her hand brushes my chest. She must have her arms stretched out in front of her so she doesn’t walk face-first into a wall.
A peep escapes her, making her sound just like the mouse she is.
Before she can pull away, I step forward, and as I wrap my arm around her neck, I move in behind her until her back is pressed to my chest.
“Oh my God,” she whisper-shrieks.
My mouth finds her ear, then I growl, “Are you scared yet, topolina?”
She nods frantically. “Y-Y-Yes.”
“Good.” The word is nothing more than a threatening growl from deep in my chest.
I smell the soft vanilla scent drifting from her and feel how she trembles.
“Don’t hurt me.” Her voice is soft, quivering with fear. When I keep quiet, she asks, “Why are you doing this?”
My lips brush against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, and a hard shiver wracks through her body.
“You have something that belongs to me.”
Not wanting to be caught in the restroom and figuring I’ve sufficiently scared the shit out of her, I let go. Stealthily moving around her, I open the door and leave her rattled in the dark.
Stopping by my table, I toss a few bills on the white cloth to settle the bill before I get my ass out of the restaurant. As I walk through the door, I glance back, but there’s no sign of Skylar, who must still be shitting herself in the restroom.
“I’ll see you soon, topolina.”
It’s time to implement the next stage of my plan.
Skylar
I fumble against the wall, and finding the light switch, I turn it on. My eyes dart around the restroom, and seeing I’m alone, I suck in desperate breaths of air.
My God.
My hand darts to the side of my neck, where I can still feel the ghost of his lips on my skin. My mind reels, and my body is a trembling mess.
I almost had a freaking heart attack when my hand slammed into him, and when he grabbed me, I stopped breathing.
That was freaking terrifying.
Pressing my other hand against my stomach, I try to focus on slowing my breathing.
I’m going to have to tell Dad. This whole situation is getting out of hand.
Regaining some control over my frazzled mind, I dart forward and yank the door open. Rushing out of the restroom, I head straight for the table where Dad’s cutting into his sirloin steak.
I quickly sit down, and only then do I glance around the restaurant, but there’s no sign of my stalker.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asks.
I turn my attention to him. “There was a man in the restroom.”
His eyes widen, and he drops the cutlery on the table. “What?!”
“Can we take the food to-go? I just want to go home.”
“Tell me what happened,” Dad orders in a stern tone.
“I’ll tell you once we get out of here.” With a trembling hand, I tuck some of my hair behind my ear. “I just want to go.”
Dad quickly gets a server and settles the bill. With our food in a takeout bag, we hurry out of the restaurant, and once we’re in the Mercedes, he says, “Tell me what happened.”
I pull the safety belt on while the words spill over my lips. “I’ve been seeing the same man everywhere. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but yesterday at the store, he got really close to me, and when I was done shopping, he was leaning against the car.” My eyes meet Dad’s worried ones. “Tonight, he came into the restroom and grabbed me from behind, asking me if I’m scared.”
Dad starts the engine, and with screeching tires, he pulls away from the curb.
“What does he look like?” he asks.
“He has black hair that’s cut in a sharp faux style and hazel eyes. He’s easily two heads taller than me and wears expensive suits.” When Dad drives in the direction of our house, I ask, “Aren’t we going to the police?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll hire a private security team.”
“Why aren’t we going to the police?” I ask, thinking that’s the first thing we should do.
Dad hesitates for a moment before he says, “We don’t have enough details for them to find the man.”
Frowning at him, I argue, “But they can get information once they know I’m being stalked.”
Dad’s eyes flick to mine, and his tone is harsh as he snaps, “Let me handle this, Skylar.” There’s a flash of regret on his face, and he reaches across the console to give my hand a squeeze. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just worried. I’ll get a private company to find the man, and then we’ll go to the police. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper before glancing out of the window.
A bad feeling sinks deep into my gut, and my teeth tug at my bottom lip.
