by Lane Parker
“Did you do him?” Ariel asked.
“No,” I confided. “I barely know him, Ariel. I can’t just ask him to fuck me so I’ll know whether or not he’s my stalker.”
Okay, maybe I’d wanted him to kiss me so I could have some significant body contact with him, but I wasn’t about to ask him to make me come. Not yet, anyway.
“Says the woman who has a stalker who took her virginity in the dark, and isn’t terrified,” Ariel snorted as she put her hand into the bag of chips she’d brought with her.
I frowned. So far, I’d been able to resist the greasy, calorie-laden snack. But I wasn’t quite sure how I’d continue to ignore the fact that Ariel had chocolate, too.
“Maybe he is my stalker,” I considered.
“Maybe he is,” she agreed. “He was definitely around to give you the cell phone when you graduated.”
“But why would he hide it?” I asked. “Why would he need to? It’s not like he’s married with kids. Not that I know of anyway.”
Ariel shook her head, chewing a mouthful of chips before she said, “He’s not. I had a friend who dated him for a while, but they broke up a year ago. She said he was too hung up on the football career he’d had to leave behind.”
I looked at her in surprise. “Wait a minute. You knew Doug was wealthy?”
“Of course. Didn’t you?”
“I had no idea. I told you I didn’t know him all that well.”
Honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention to anything except studying and working during my last couple of years of high school. Then my mom had died, and my whole world had come crashing down on me.
“It’s only money,” Ariel said matter-of-factly. “And that will never buy your happiness.”
“I know,” I replied with a sigh. “But I could certainly use some cash right now.”
“You’ll get a job,” my friend said confidently. “I’m not exactly doing what I thought I was born to do, but I can help you out.”
“Absolutely not,” I snapped. It wasn’t the first time Ariel had offered me money, and I refused to take it. In a less forceful voice, I added, “I appreciate your emotional support, but I won’t take your money. I’m surviving, and Doug offered to talk to a friend about getting me a waitress position in his buddy’s bar if I couldn’t get into programming right away.”
“Not what you were born to do, either,” Ariel said sadly. “I wish you’d just let Ben help you get into Blackwood. You know you can do it, Katie, and you’ve worked so damn hard for your education. Blackwood is your dream job.”
There were several occasions when I’d wanted to cave in, and let Ben help me. He probably has plenty of contacts for smaller tech companies that might take me on. But he didn’t owe me anything, and he was already being so nice about my living situation. I wouldn’t feel right about asking him for anything else.
“It doesn’t have to be forever,” I explained. “I’ll keep looking for something in my field. But in the meantime, I need to work, and I know how to be a cocktail waitress.”
“How long before your stepbrother kicks you out of here?” she questioned.
I shrugged. “I have no idea, but Ben acts like I can stay forever.”
“He cares about you, Katie,” she said softly. “I know he’s not your blood, but he obviously gives a damn about what happens to you. I still think you need to consider the fact that he could be your stalker, too.”
I finally reached for the enormous bag of M&M’s that were laying on the table. The more I worried, the more I needed that chocolate. “I know he cares. I guess I just have no idea how to handle that.”
Nobody had really given a damn about me, except for Ariel, since my mom had died, and it was difficult to understand why my stepfamily would care at all. My father had been a mooch, and not the type of person who had really inspired generosity. Still, my stepfamily was willing to help me out. Even my stepmother had called to see how I was doing.
“I really think you should find out what he’s like between the sheets, even if he isn’t your stalker,” Ariel said impishly.
“I’m starting to think you’re a lot more obsessed with him than I am,” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Benjamin Blackwood? Not in a million years. I’ve never even met the guy, but he’s a fun fantasy.”
“He’s nice,” I said, defending Ben. “He’s not stuffy at all.”
“I’m sure he’s a good man. He’s worried about you, which makes him a hero in my book. But you’re related by marriage, and you’re smart with an amazing career in front of you. I’m a washed-out ballet dancer who doesn’t really know how to do anything else. Not exactly the type of woman to attract a gorgeous billionaire.”
I chewed the chocolate in my mouth, my heart breaking for everything Ariel had been through. I swallowed before I replied, “You’ll find out where you’re supposed to be. You’re beautiful and talented. Nothing is going to change that.”
Ariel was smart enough to do anything she wanted. But just like me, finances and poverty were standing in her way.
“I’ll get over it,” she said in a casual manner I wasn’t quite buying. “I have no choice.”
When one door closes, another one opens.
That had always been one of my mom’s favorite quotes, and I still had no idea why. No door had ever opened for my mom and me while she was alive, but she’d been a lot more hopeful than I’d ever been.
If those words my mother had loved ever became a reality, I really wanted something good to happen for Ariel since her dreams had been demolished. She’d heard the loud slamming of the door to her ambitions. She deserved to see another one open up for her.
I reached across the table and laid a hand on Ariel’s forearm. “What can I do to help?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Oh, wait! Maybe one thing. Go out with the two rich guys you have in the palm of your hand, and find out which one is your stalker. I’m dying to know.”
I laughed as I stood up to get another glass of wine. “Maybe it’s neither.”
“It has to be one of them,” she argued. “Who else could it be? Personally, I’m betting that it’s Doug. I noticed how he looked at you in chemistry class years ago.”
I pulled out the cheap bottle of white wine I’d picked up, and refilled my glass, then held it out to Ariel.
“I’m good,” she said. Her glass was still pretty full.
“Just so you know, Doug needed my help in chemistry, so I have no doubt he was looking at me like he wanted me to stick around,” I informed her dryly.
“Then why is he paying attention to you now?”
“Yeah, I guess I really don’t get it,” I answered, sitting down again across from her. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“Can’t,” she answered with obvious regret. “I have work to do at home. I haven’t done laundry in a week, and my poor tiny apartment can’t take too much clutter.”
I was disappointed, but I understood how busy she was, and how many hours she had been working. “Need help?” I asked. “I don’t have any big plans.”
She took a long sip of her wine before she got up. “Nope. My apartment isn’t that big, and it’s certainly not worth the drive over to my place.”
“Be careful,” I warned her as I got to my feet to see her out.
Ariel didn’t live in one of the safer areas of Fort Myers. She lived in my old neighborhood. Overall, Fort Myers was a nice place to live, but it had a few not-so-nice areas.
She hugged me before she walked out the door and said, “I think you should go ahead and talk to your stalker and try to get more information.”
I smiled as I released her and watched her walk to her car.
My friend was almost as obsessed as I was about the identity of my stalker.
I closed the door and locked it behind me.
I hated the silence that fell over the guest house. I liked it a lot better when I didn’t have the quiet environment to really think.
&
nbsp; I walked back to the kitchen to get my phone.
Do it. Do it now.
I’d been thinking about Stalker a lot since the last time he’d texted, and my investigation hadn’t brought any clarity.
I was confused.
I didn’t understand his motives or reasons for staying anonymous.
Why does he even give a damn about what happens to me?
It was time for me to find out exactly what my stalker wanted.
Chapter 3
Kate
Katie: What do you want from me?
I held my breath after I typed those words into my phone, wondering if Stalker would even answer.
Stalker: I want you to be safe, and to be happy.
I let out my pent-up breath in a giant whoosh when I saw his answer. He was obviously willing to talk, and I needed as much information as he’d give me.
Katie: That wasn’t all you wanted in the boathouse.
Stalker: I won’t even try to deny the fact that I want to fuck you. I’ve always been drawn to you. And I know you feel it, too.
My mind wandered to that unforgettable night. I couldn’t say that I hadn’t wanted it, too. Maybe more than he had.
Katie: I was lonely, and yes, I wanted you.
If this was going to be a no-bullshit conversation, I needed to keep it real and stay honest.
Stalker: I’d hoped that you’d realize that you aren’t alone, and that you never have to feel that way. I’ve always been here.
God, I wished that were true. I ached for somebody to love me, someone who cared about me for me.
Katie: This is twisted and you know it. It’s not like you’re ready to allow us to meet face-to-face. And I need people who are real in my life. I don’t need a fantasy.
Stalker: I’m very real, Kate. And I’ve always been here for you. You’ve just never seen it.
I couldn’t stop the angry, frustrated tears that started to leak from my eyes. Truth was, I ached for the touch of this unknown stalker every damn night. I hadn’t been the same since he’d touch me, made me feel like I was beautiful, even though I wasn’t.
Katie: Then where are you now? Where are you every night when I get into bed alone? Sometimes I wish you had never touched me. Then I wouldn’t know exactly what was missing in my life. I wouldn’t have to wonder if you were every damn man I meet. I wouldn’t be so confused. And I already feel so lost.
I let out a strangled sob as the tears continued to flow down my face.
I felt so damn alone that I couldn’t hold back my sorrow.
Rarely did I let my thoughts go to the night I’d lost my virginity, but when I was talking to Stalker, every bit of longing I had was forced to the surface. And it was raw and painful.
Stalker: Are you crying?
I let out a snort that wasn’t really a sob, and it definitely wasn’t a laugh. It was a sound of disgust.
Maybe I’d always known I’d hurt if I allowed myself to really have a conversation with my stalker. That’s probably why I’d avoided it for so long.
Irritated with myself, I simply typed:
Katie: Yes, I’m crying.
One minute I was convinced I was talking to Ben, and the next I thought about Doug.
It was enough to make any woman crazy.
The sad part was…I needed the comfort that I knew instinctively would only come from the man who had held me the night I’d lost my V-card.
And that guy pretty much didn’t exist.
Stalker: Don’t cry, Kate. I never wanted to make you cry. I’ll come see you tonight and we’ll talk if that will help.
My heart skittered, and I took a shaky breath.
How in the world could we talk?
Katie: You know where I live?
Stalker: I do now.
Ben? Doug? I had no idea how this was going to work out, but I really needed to settle the stalker thing once and for all before I lost my mind.
Katie: What time?
Maybe I should be terrified, but this man had known my whereabouts for years, and I wasn’t dead yet.
Stalker: Late. If you want me in your bed, leave the window cracked open in your bedroom. I’ll find you.
“Dammit!” I cursed aloud. “Another clandestine meeting where I’ll be left broken and alone again? Not happening!”
Katie: Come to my door and show your face or we aren’t doing this.
Stalker: I can’t. I know you don’t understand, but I have my reasons for not showing up at your door.
Katie: Then tell me what they are, because I don’t understand you at all.
Stalker: I’ll be there tonight. If you want me, leave the window cracked open for me. If you don’t, then I’ll go. No matter what you decide, the money I deposited in your bank account is yours. It should help you so you have time to get things together before you need to make a job decision. If you need more, tell me.
I dropped the phone because I had nothing more to say. But I did snatch up my computer from the other side of the table and plunked it down in front of me.
Money? I had no idea what he was talking about? I’d been figuring my pathetic balance since I’d come back to Florida, but I hadn’t actually looked since the day I’d purchased a cheap dress for my dad’s reception. Since I was pretty anal sometimes, I had my balance constantly totaled to the penny.
I had to since I needed to pay attention to every cent.
I did the double sign-in process required for my bank account, and then waited.
My jaw dropped as my eyes anxiously scanned the transactions, and I had to make sure I hadn’t just logged in to somebody else’s account.
My heart was pounding wildly as I finally accepted the balance.
I have over half a million dollars in my bank account.
The money was real, and it was already cleared.
“Why?” I said aloud in a breathless voice. “Why are you doing this?”
I’d never take the money, but I didn’t understand why this man had deposited a fortune into my bank account.
I bit my lip until it was painful as I continued to stare at the figures in front of me.
I started to move around the account, seeing that the deposit had been made the day after I’d been with my stalker in the boathouse. One large lump sum.
“What were you thinking?” I whispered.
I so wanted to get into his head, think like he did. But there was no reasonable explanation for his actions.
I grabbed my phone.
Katie: Why? Why did you deposit that much money?
I waited ten minutes for a response that never came. Obviously, it was a question he didn’t want to answer.
The funds had come from a Limited License Corporation, and I started to try to look for the company online.
Every bit of computer snooping I did turned up nothing. Unless I wanted to try to break through the company’s security and firewall, I could get absolutely no info on who owned it.
“I’ll go to the bank tomorrow and make them take it out,” I said in a voice husky from the tears I’d shed.
I took one last look at my unanswered text, and then gave up on getting an answer.
If he’d wanted to explain, he would have done it by now.
I reached for the potato chips that I’d been avoiding, and downed the entire bag.
The chocolate also got polished off before I finally went to bed.
Chapter 4
Kate
“Kate?”
The whiskey-smooth voice of my stalker jolted me from a restless sleep.
I panicked at first, my heart pounding. I was hyperventilating because of my initial confusion. My world was completely dark, even though I had my eyes open. “I can’t see,” I said in a distressed voice.
“You’re blindfolded,” he answered in a comforting tone, his arms wrapped tightly around my body from behind. “It’s better this way. You’re safe, sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you. You know that. I just want to talk. I know you’re
upset.”
My breathing slowed, and as he continued to hold me tightly, I finally relaxed.
This had not been part of my plan, but I wasn’t really afraid.
When I’d finally gone to bed, I’d decided I’d crack my window and wait for my stalker, confront him when and if he came through my bedroom window. I’d left on enough illumination in the attached bathroom to see him, but hopefully not deter him with lights burning brightly in the bedroom. Unfortunately, I’d had a couple of glasses of wine with the ton of chocolate I’d consumed, and I’d apparently conked out before he’d arrived.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said in a stronger voice. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. I wasn’t worried about my physical safety, but I was concerned about my mental state.
“Good,” he answered in a husky voice beside my ear. “Because I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here because I didn’t want you to feel like you’re alone.”
The gruff earnestness in his tone made my body melt into his, the fiery warmth of his strong arms holding me protectively against him more of comfort than I wanted to admit. “Why did you deposit that money in my account?” It was the question I’d been waiting to ask.
“You need it,” he answered abruptly. “I don’t. You have to live, and you need some time to yourself to heal, Kate.”
“I can’t possibly take your money,” I protested.
“You have before. Why is it different now?”
“I’ve never taken a dime from you,” I said indignantly.
“Who do you think paid for your college every semester? And your rent? And some of your other living expenses? I never paid myself, and I should have. I left it up to somebody else to decide how much a student needed to live well. It wasn’t as much as it should have been. Not even close. But I didn’t know that until recently. Hell, you needed a lot more to feel secure and comfortable. I regret that. You had to get a job just to get by. That shouldn’t have happened. You should have felt secure from the very beginning. This time I made sure to do the transfer myself.”