Chasing Her: A Stalker Romance (Dark Love Series Book 3)

by Kat T. Masen

  It started on Tuesday. I was sitting at my desk in the office, the usual daily grind. It was ten o’clock when my boss called me to his office. He didn’t sound unusual on the phone, so I thought nothing of it. That was until I walked into his office and saw Human Resource personnel sitting in there.

  Economic downturn, blah blah blah, and I was handed my final paycheck.

  There was no point arguing it as I returned to my desk to pack up my things. In the corner of my eye, I saw Nyree standing in the doorway. She told me three of her friends in the office were also let go. She was quite upset, but being in my own hell, it was pointless consoling her.

  “So, how long do I have to keep standing here flashing some leg before you ask me out to dinner?” she asks teasingly.

  My face spreads into a grin, and without looking into her eyes, I continue to pack. “I was too distracted by the bust to notice the leg.”

  She threw a pen at me and burst into a fit of giggles.

  “You look like you could use a home-cooked meal. How about my place next Friday night? I’m outta town this weekend.”

  An invitation to her place means one thing—she needs a good fuck and right now. I might be just the right person to give her what she needs.

  Looking into her eyes, I see the lust and pleasure rolled into one. “Shall I bring dessert?”

  Her eyes trace my body and make their way down to my cock. “That’ll be great. No one wants to come empty-handed…”

  The stir startles me. It’s been a while and boy do I need to get fucking laid.

  ***

  Losing my regular job feels so insignificant. I sit on a park bench thinking about my next move. Remembering the days of Harvard, there was so much drive, ambition, and aspiration in me to be a journalist. I reported on stories needing to be told, trying to change lives and make people see through my writing that we all need to reach out and help one another. We aren’t all born with silver spoons in our mouths, and how the smallest act of humanity makes a difference.

  Here, in California, I report stories about crime, celebrity fallouts, and other meaningless topics. This isn’t who I want to be, and this is not satisfying my desire to be a better person.

  As I walk back home, still no closer to what I want to do, I see a sign on my door.

  I’ve been evicted.

  The notice says all my belongings have been sent to a storage facility not too far from here. Just fucking great.

  Officially, I’m now homeless.

  ***

  I follow the directions to Hazel’s home, surprised to find her house is, in fact, that farm I had stumbled upon that day I was lost. The serenity and peaceful surroundings ease the mounting pressure I feel over losing my apartment. It’s a breath of fresh air, and I look above toward the clouds, thanking whoever blessed me with this amazing woman, a friendship, and support system I can’t live without.

  Hazel is sitting on the porch as I drive up the dirt road. It’s small and quaint, surrounded by roses and carnations. She stands and greets me as I walk up the porch steps.

  She calls my name and gently places her hands on my face. I feel her love, the motherly love I desperately missed from my mother. She takes me through her home. It’s warm and inviting, filled with memorabilia of Richard and George. As we make our way back to the porch, she asks me to sit at the small table where she has fresh lemonade and homemade blueberry muffins. The view is amazing.

  “I enjoy having company. Often when Miles is out of town, I head out to meet some old acquaintances for bridge night.”

  “Does Miles live here?”

  I’m devouring these muffins, and they are practically melting in my mouth.

  “Oh, no, dear. He has a home just around the corner. It’s such a beautiful home, and his daughter and grandson live with him.”

  “Is he out of town for work?”

  “Mission work. Miles is a nurse. He volunteered down south when those awful tornadoes hit. He’ll be back next week, and we’ll be taking a vacation to the Netherlands,” she adds.

  “Netherlands?”

  “Yes. My sister lives there, and I miss her dearly.” Hazel talks with peace. She’s content. How I yearn to be in her headspace right now.

  “What do you do with the group when you’re away?”

  “Fred understands and chooses the time to vacation himself. Jerry… well, he sometimes takes a step back. I’m glad you took me up on my offer.” She smiles.

  “I feel weak asking for help.”

  “My dear boy…” she places her hand on mine, “… asking for help isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength. I have your room all ready for you.”

  She smiles, and I say no more.

  ***

  Settling into Hazel’s is exactly the kind of therapy I need. I don’t allow her to spoil me, and often we work together in the kitchen preparing dinner. One night she asks me to prepare another two place settings, and before I know it, the doorbell rings.

  The voice filters through the hall, and my heart skips a beat. Before I can fully register what’s happening, Adriana pokes her head into the kitchen and greets me with a warm smile.

  The tension which has built up releases when I see her. It’s stupid for me to jump to conclusions, assuming she’ll hate me for my sordid past.

  Her face looks different, a slight glow perhaps, a redness to her prominent cheeks. Although the dark circles still surround her eyes, there’s a warm shade of brown illuminating her face. Wearing only a T-shirt which reads ‘In Training For The Zombie Apocalypse,’ her arms are no longer covered in raw cuts. Unfortunately, the scars still remain.

  Penny’s high-pitched holler enters the kitchen. She leans over and kisses Adriana on both cheeks and comes to my side, reaching out her hand, followed by a manly, “How’s it going, pal?”

  We burst out laughing at her feeble attempt to portray a man. Penny is all woman, despite the giant pecker sitting between her thighs.

  The night is spent eating the meal we prepared, which, if I say so myself, turns out fantastic. After dinner, we settle for playing charades. It’s one fail after another as Adriana and Penny team up against Hazel and me. Penny is the one who brought the game tonight, and after a few turns, we discover that it’s adult charades. Surprisingly, Hazel isn’t offended and enjoys the crude humor.

  “Cat? Uh… butt? Oh my God, Penny, what the hell are you doing?” Adriana asks in frustration.

  Penny is bending over doing something ridiculous, and not even I can figure it out.

  “Um… kangaroo? I don’t know,” Adriana bellows.

  The buzzer goes off.

  “Doggy style!” Penny blurts out in annoyance.

  “What? Really? Why the hell are you jumping like a kangaroo, then?”

  “That isn’t jumping! That’s getting done from behind,” Penny shouts.

  Hazel and I are in stitches.

  Penny clearly sucks at this game.

  It goes on for a few more rounds before Hazel calls it a night. Penny gets a call from one of her friends, who she admits is a friend with benefits, and goes on to clarify that when she says benefits, she means he gives great head.

  It’s way too much information for me without any alcohol in my system.

  Alone with Adriana, we move around quietly cleaning up. The seconds pass and feel like hours until we both try to break the silence at the same time.

  “You first.” I grin.

  “I was going to ask how your week was, but I realized it probably sucked, you know, ‘cause you’re staying with Hazel.”

  “You know what? I’m really enjoying it here. It’s giving me time to think about my next step,” I respond at ease. With the room back to normal, we sit on the floor, picking at the leftover dessert. “How was your week?”

  She lets out a sigh, followed by a hiccup. “I’m sorry. For some reason, ice cream does this to me.”

  “I think it’s cute,” I reassure her.

  “Cute is bunnies and fluffy kit
tens. This is embarrassing.” She hiccups again, and her face turns bright red.

  We change the subject, moving our conversation onto Penny and how much she has in common with Eric.

  “Just because they’re both gay, we probably shouldn’t assume they are a perfect match,” I point out.

  “Eric’s taken, anyway,” she says.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize he was seeing someone. Good for him.”

  She turns to look at me with a knowing grin. “Uh, really? Considering he’s your nephew, I’d have thought you knew all the dirty secrets.”

  What did she just say?

  “Excuse me? What does Tristan have to do with this?”

  This time she places her hand on my arm. “Oh, Julian. You can’t be that blind?”

  “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’ve been too absorbed in my problems to see what was happening around me. I mean… I had an inkling at one point, but I thought the idea was ridiculous. He was fuck… I mean sleeping with a woman.”

  “Who would’ve thought, right? And look at how they came together because of you. It could be wedding bells before you know it.”

  Josie will fucking kill me, I think. Surely, she would know if her son is gay?

  “Does it bother you?” she probes.

  “No, not if it makes him happy. I miss him. Well, I miss hanging out with him. Sometimes it gets really lonely.”

  She nods, then withdraws. “The loneliness is palpable. Try being with couples all the time. It’s like a hand constantly slapping you in the face. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them, it just reminds me of what I don’t have.”

  “So, I guess you’re referring to Charlie and Lex.”

  I glance aside. Why did I bring this up?

  “Yeah… sorry. I can see it in your face. It hurts you to talk about them.”

  “No, Adriana… I just don’t want to think about them anymore. Besides, one day you’ll be in that place again. Look at Hazel.”

  Her eyes dart around the room, then focus on mine. “I don’t want to. I want to remember him for the rest of my life. I’m scared someone else will erase my memories.”

  With a gentle smile, I wait for her full attention. “Adriana, impossible. No one can replace him or the memories.”

  Quick to change the subject, her face lights up, and she swiftly jumps to her feet. “I’ve got an idea. It’s crazy and spontaneous, but it’s just what we both need right now,” she says excitedly.

  It can’t be sex. Really, Julian? Why the fuck would you think that about her? Don’t be a shallow asshole.

  I grin and say, “I’m all ears.”

  “I’ll call you later with the details.”

  “Wait, you tell me we’re about to do something crazy and spontaneous, then tell me you’ll call me later with the details?”

  She laughs, placing her hand on my arm reassuringly. “Okay, so perhaps spontaneous is the wrong word. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s all? No clue?”

  Adriana shakes her head, and despite my curiosity getting the better of me, it’s nice to finally see her somewhat happy with a purpose.

  “I promise, Julian, you’ll have no regrets.” She rests both her hands on my shoulders, her small stature only reaching my chin. “Do you trust me?”

  I have every reason not to trust her.

  Her bond to her brother can run deeper than I’m led to believe.

  But what do I have to lose?

  Absolutely nothing.

  “I trust you… Adriana.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “One hundred percent,” I answer confidently. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “One hundred and one percent.” She smiles back.

  Amy walks over and hands us paperwork which we both sign. I bend down to pet Blaze. She has a flicker of excitement in her eyes. Adriana holds onto Ash.

  “Are you sure it won’t traumatize them to be separated?” Adriana asks again.

  “As long as they get enough attention and love, no,” Amy reassures us.

  It’s exactly what we both need, and Hazel is beyond happy to have Blaze come live with us. I reassure her I’m looking for a place, but like always, she’ll tell me to hush.

  The ride back home is quiet as Blaze and Ash both rest their heads on Adriana’s lap. It’s not only the dogs who have a glimmer of hope in their eyes but Adriana as well. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and undeniably, she is beautiful, scars and all.

  “Andy is going to fall in love with Ash. I doubt very much I’ll get him to bed at a reasonable hour tonight.”

  “He sounds like a typical kid.”

  “Yeah, he’s a good kid. Just hyper, exactly the opposite of his dad.” She sighs, glancing out the window.

  We drive straight to the meeting, and as predicted, the group spends the hour playing with the dogs. Toward the end, Hazel politely asks us for our attention.

  “Your weekly task,” she announces as Jerry lets out a huge groan. “I want you to visit your happy place.”

  Penny is first to open her mouth. “Does Betty’s Back Door Brothel count?”

  “God, Penny, you’re such a—” Jerry starts.

  “Yada, yada, yada… talk to the hand ‘cause the face ain’t listening,” Penny bites back.

  Fred shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge a place of happiness, but as Hazel works her magic ways with him, he slowly comes around and mentions a hobby store with a motorized train in the front window he enjoys watching.

  I, on the other hand, have nothing.

  Every place I once enjoyed is tarnished with an unpleasant memory, all of which involve being high.

  “You’re struggling, I can see it,” Adriana mentions, keeping her voice low from the others. “I feel the same.”

  “But you have Andy,” I tell her, glancing sideways to catch a glimpse of her troubled face. “There must be some place which makes him happy and, in turn, makes you happy.”

  She remains quiet, lost in thought. Unusual from her normally vocal thought process. I place my hand on hers to reassure her.

  “It’ll come to us, somehow. In the meantime, do you really think there’s a place called Betty’s Back Door Brothel?”

  Adriana’s shoulders begin to move up and down, her lips curving upward as laughter escapes her lips. With her mood lightening, she begins to bloom like a wilted rose basking in the sunshine.

  She places her hand on my arm as I join in the private joke, laughing along with her, trying to control herself while the others turn to see us.

  Penny, not knowing what’s happening, joins in until the corner of Adriana’s eye tears up, and she begs us to stop, or she’ll pee her pants.

  Hazel sits back, smiling proudly, “What do I always say?”

  “Penny is always the best medicine,” Adriana and I say in unison before falling into a fit of hysterics again.

  ***

  I lay on my side as I stroke Blaze’s fur. She closes her eyes, calm and appreciative of my gesture. In the quiet time, I hear the sound of an engine. Blaze can sense the presence as well, but her hearing is poor. There’s a tap on the screen door, and I stand up to see who’s there. I feel her before I see her, and Adriana’s smiling back at me.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she greets. “I’ve made some homemade treats for Blaze.”

  I open the door and let her in. She brushes past me, and this strange feeling hits me. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s best to ignore it.

  Adriana kneels to Blaze’s level and strokes her belly.

  “What, so no homemade snacks for me?” I tease.

  “Here’s the thing, I’m a terrible cook. I mean, I try to cook. It’s okay, but it’s not my forte.”

  “I don’t believe you, Adriana. You say that about everything, and I can’t point out one thing you do wrong.”

  “You’re not looking hard enough,” she says, and there it is, that self-doubt.

  �
�I’m not looking for it.”

  Her pats slow down, and I see her body language change. “Elijah once said that he didn’t care if I couldn’t cook as long as I knew how to cook pot roast, that’s all that mattered. He and my brother are pot roast freaks, and I blame my mom, who makes the meanest pot roast.”

  “Your mom sounds like a very nice woman.”

  “The greatest. I’d love for you to meet—” She stops mid-sentence

  I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable. “I would be honored to meet her as your friend.” I place my hand on hers to reassure her, calm the guilt brewing inside of her. Almost instantly, I see her shoulders relax as she tilts her head slightly to stare back at me. Today they reflect a sign of hope, a woman trying her best to fight the odds of life.

  “So, this happy place we’re supposed to go to… how about I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” I offer.

  She lets out a laugh. “Deal, you first…”

  “You got a few hours?”

  “I have two hours before I have to pick up Andy.”

  I stand up and reach out for her hand to pull her up. She follows me out the back door until we’re standing on the porch.

  “We’re here.”

  “Uh… I don’t get it?” she asks, confused.

  “When I first came to LA, I stumbled on this place when I was lost one day. I can’t explain it, there’s something that draws me in. The horses, the greenery… it’s so serene.” I take a moment to appreciate the view. “I had no idea it belonged to Hazel, none whatsoever.”

  “Lost on the way to—”

  I interrupt her with a slight annoyance. “No, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I… I wasn’t really… I mean, I’m not saying it’s wrong, just asking if that’s—”

  “Adriana, I said I wasn’t.”

  She places her hand on my forearm, a friendly gesture but one I have become so accustomed to, easing my anxious nerves. “I’m sorry, Julian, diarrhea-mouth syndrome. I trust you’re telling the truth.”

  “Does it bother you? Let’s face it, we haven’t talked too much more about it, and it’s the giant elephant in the room.”