The Society #StalkerProblems

by Ivy Smoak

  So what was my ideal man? My stalker. But I couldn't have him. Mainly because if I ever saw him again, I'd be so embarrassed about the pie incident that I'd probably scream and hide. Or just laugh in his face again. I didn't think he'd seen me, but there was a slim possibility. And that was enough to make me never want to show my face near One57 again. Damn, I was really going to miss seeing him twice a week. But not as much as he was going to miss seeing me…since he was the stalker in this scenario.

  "Sometimes it's hard to know exactly what you want until you see it," said Frankie. "But that's where I come in. Just trust me and I promise I'll find you the perfect place."

  "Okay, let's do it." It was better that way. When I’d tried to describe my stalker with man-house metaphors, I’d almost ended up being some gym bro's sidepiece.

  Her first try was okay. He was handsome. He was friendly. He had a nice smile. But I just didn't get the right vibes from him. And he was like seven feet tall.

  "All these high ceilings are making me dizzy," I said. "Can we go a little shorter?"

  "How short?"

  "Surprise me."

  And she did. Because the realtor at the next place was a dwarf. The ceilings in the apartment may have been short, but the realtor assured me that the shower was huge.

  No thanks.

  Frankie tried a few more times. One realtor was an earthy cowboy playing a guitar, but the excessive taxidermy on the walls was a pretty big turn-off. The next was a polished wall street type with slicked-back hair and a five o'clock shadow. He was like Joe, only a million times better looking. But he was still like Joe. Hard pass.

  The more apartments we visited, the more I wondered about the Society. How did they have such a wide variety of men sitting around waiting for me? And how did they afford all these apartments?

  "I think I might not be ready for a new apartment yet," I said after I had rejected five more men. Or rather, after I rejected four men and got kicked out of the fifth's apartment for making a particularly distasteful comment comparing the smell of Indian food to a cow's rear-end. In my defense, I hadn't seen that the realtor was Indian when I made the comment. "I'm gonna get going."

  "I just have one more," she said. "And I think it might be everything you're looking for."

  "Oh yeah?" That was hard to believe. I’d decided that Frankie was terrible at her job. She had no idea what she was doing. She was an idiot person.

  "Yeah. It's a gorgeous place that just recently went on the market. The molding is all custom. There's a gourmet kitchen. The ceilings are nice and tall. The realtor will probably even be baking something to make it feel homey."

  Hmm. "Sounds perfect."

  "As your realtor, though, I feel compelled to advise you against making an offer. It may look beautiful on the outside, but it's all just a façade. Behind all the paint and granite and trim, the foundation is a mess. Bad wiring, rusty pipes. It wouldn't surprise me if there's even asbestos or some lead paint."

  It sounded like this guy was a hot mess. Which if I was being honest with myself was actually right up my alley. I was pretty sure my foundation was a mess too. And I didn’t really have anything to lose. “He sounds perfect.”

  She stared at me, because she’d literally just said he wasn’t. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  I shrugged. “Something about rusty pipes. Let’s do this.”

  Chapter 17 - JUMP!

  Tuesday

  The elevator opened directly into the penthouse of the Caldwell Hotel. And damn was it nice.

  “Like what you see?” asked Frankie.

  I took it back. Frankie wasn’t an idiot person. She was amazing. “Why was this not the very first place you showed me?”

  “Have you already forgotten my warning?”

  Screw her warning. This was the apartment for me. I just knew it. The only question was…who was the realtor? The walls were white, which meant he had white skin. What did the glass walls mean, though? Did he wear lots of mesh tank tops? Or was he so pale that his skin was practically translucent?

  “Come on,” said Frankie with a tug on my arm. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”

  She led me towards the kitchen, which was part of a two-story great room. I was kind of obsessed. Not to mention the wall art. In a normal house the bright colors and geometric patterns would have been too much, but against the white walls and paired with the sleek modern furniture, they were kind of perfect. They also meant that the realtor probably wore bright clothing…

  “Good evening,” said a deep voice behind us.

  I turned around and found myself staring directly into my stalker’s beautiful brown eyes. There were still speckles of blueberry on his shirt. Oh. No. I immediately ducked behind the nearest piece of furniture. Shit! Shit shit shit! Had he seen me? Yes, I’d wanted to meet him. But now that it was happening, it kind of felt like my entire body was going to explode. Or melt. Wait, was I already melting? Or was I just sweating that profusely? I closed my eyes. If I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me. That was how things worked.

  “Are you hiding?” he asked.

  I stayed still. Maybe he was talking to someone else. I just wanted to disappear.

  “You know I can see you through that glass table, right?”

  I snuck a glance back at him. Sure enough, I could see him clear as day through the top of the glass table I’d ducked behind. Damned modern furniture. I stayed still for a second, hoping he’d just walk away and pretend this hadn’t happened.

  Instead, the corner of his gorgeous mouth ticked up.

  “I’m not hiding,” I said way too defensively. “I was just…tying my shoes.”

  “Tying your flats?” His voice was filled with amusement. “They don’t have laces.”

  “Don’t be rude to your guest,” said Frankie.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry,” said my stalker. “I’m just having one of those days. You wouldn’t believe what happened to me on my way over.”

  Please don’t recognize me from the pie incident.

  “Anyway, I’m Ryder. Pleasure to meet you.” He stuck his hand out for me to shake.

  By some miracle it seemed like he hadn’t seen me hit him with the pie. I breathed a sigh of relief. God, he was so beautiful up close. And his name was Ryder? That was a super hot name. And it suited him. I bet he could ride me all night. “I’m meeting to pleasure you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s rather forward of you.”

  What? Then I realized I had jumbled my words all around. Fuck my life. “Er…it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “I kind of liked your other greeting better.”

  Kill me now.

  “Raven here was just telling me how much she loves this apartment,” said Frankie. “We’ve visited a bunch, but this seems to be the only one she’s interested in.”

  My stalker…er, Ryder…nodded. “Then she has good taste.” He turned and locked eyes with me. “What other places did you look at?”

  “Uh…” How could I phrase this? For all I knew, all those guys were his friends. “Before I answer that, I have a question for you.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Are you good friends with a gay man or two rapey Spanish men?” Shit! That had seemed a lot less offensive in my head.

  Ryder laughed. “I take it you met Ocelot and the brothers?”

  “Maybe.”

  He turned to Frankie. “What in the world made you think she’d like those apartments?”

  Frankie put her hands up. “Don’t blame me. She asked for the biggest double shower I could find.”

  “Really?” asked Ryder. His eyes locked with mine again. “I never would have guessed.”

  I could feel my face turning red. “I didn’t fully understand what I was asking for,” I said. “But yes, I did technically request that.”

  Ryder raised an eyebrow. “And it wasn’t what you wanted?”

  “Not at all.” I shook my head. “Especially when
I didn’t even have time to prepare myself. Prepare mentally. For the shock of it. Not like…prepare with lube. Although I imagine a lot of lube would be necessary…” What the hell am I saying?! I cleared my throat to try to distract my stalker from the pure awkwardness that had just left my mouth. “So…how about you show me around this place?”

  “Got it.” Ryder pulled out a little notebook and jotted something down.

  “What are you writing?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He tucked the notebook back into his jacket pocket. “So where shall we begin with our tour? The master bedchamber?”

  “Sure.” Who the hell calls it a bedchamber? I thought I was the only one who said weird stuff like that.

  He led me up the stairs and into a ridiculously awesome bedroom, complete with a four-poster bed. He kicked something into a closet and slammed it shut.

  “Was that a Croc?”

  “What?” asked Ryder with a laugh. “Why would there be a crocodile in the penthouse? That sounds like the title of a children’s book.”

  Okay… There was no time to dwell on that, though. Because my eyes went straight to the silk neckties tied securely to two of the bedposts. “What are those for?” I asked.

  Ryder stared at me. “Would you like to find out?”

  I gulped. Was my stalker about to tie me to his bed? I’d had this fantasy before. But it usually ended with him cutting me up in little tiny pieces. Luckily Frankie would never let that happen though. “That depends. Have you used them before?”

  “Oh definitely. But they’ve been thoroughly cleaned since then.” He took a step towards me. But then he stopped when his cellphone started ringing. “Hold that thought.” He answered his phone. “Talk to me.”

  I tried to listen. Was he getting a call from the last girl he’d tied to this bed?

  I couldn’t make out much, but I thought I heard a guy saying something about agents coming.

  “You’re sure?” asked Ryder. “Okay. Thanks for the heads up.”

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  For a second Ryder’s confident smile faltered. “Nothing important. Want to see the balcony?” He put his hand gently on my back and guided me through a maze of rooms and out onto the balcony.

  And then the wind blew through my hair and the familiar sounds of honking taxis and squealing brakes filled my ears. For the first time since I’d stepped foot in NYC, I felt like I was able to get a breath of fresh air. And the view… God, the view was everything.

  “Not a bad view, huh?” asked Ryder.

  “It’s amazing.” Is this even real life right now? I had no idea how I had gotten so lucky to end up on this balcony with my super sexy stalker. Who apparently wanted to tie me to his bed and do unspeakable things to me. Trying new things was working out pretty damned well for me.

  And it was about to get even better.

  My stalker leaned down towards me. Is he going to kiss me? Oh my God! I closed my eyes and got ready for it. I wasn’t even scared of whatever germs he had. I just wanted to taste him. But instead I felt his breath on my neck.

  “Stay calm,” he whispered into my ear. “And don’t look back. There are some agents after us. Frankie might be one of them.”

  My eyes flew open. “Agents? Like…FBI agents?”

  Ryder nodded. “Yup. Exactly. FBI agents.”

  What? “Quit messing with me.” God, why did it always seem like the FBI was after me?

  “I wish I was.” He looked dead serious. “But an acquaintance of mine in NYC was recently taken, and I think I’m next. I’m sorry, I never meant to tangle you up in this.”

  Taken? What?

  “Where’d you guys go?” called Frankie from inside.

  “We’ll just be out here another second,” yelled Ryder. “Why don’t you go ahead and draw up a rental agreement?”

  “That’s up to my client. Is this the one, Raven?”

  Ryder nudged me.

  “Uh, yeah,” I called to Frankie. “Yup. Sure is.” My voice cracked as I talked. Playing it cool was definitely not my strong suit. Ryder wasn’t serious, was he? All the FBI talk had to be nonsense. This secret sex society was completely legal. Oh wait…

  Frankie squealed with excitement. Excitement to send me to prison forever for dirty sex things. But I hadn’t even done anything bad yet! If anything she should be arresting Angel and Diablo for trying to rape me in the bathroom. I’d tell the judge everything and ask for leniency.

  I looked back at Ryder. “Do we have to kill her? I can’t go to prison. I’m not made for it.”

  His perfect smile reappeared for a second. “We could do that. But I’d rather jump.”

  “JUMP?!” My stalker was out of his mind. Which also made sense. Because he was a freaking stalker!

  “Shhh!” He pressed his hand over my mouth. It smelled like blueberry pie. I kind of wanted to lick it, but this was no time for such things. Wait…since when did I want to lick someone’s hands? That was super gross. But licking his hand kind of seemed appealing? Weird.

  “Seriously, what are we gonna do?” I could feel the sweat pooling in my pits.

  “Jump. Well, zipline, to be precise.” A zipline handle had appeared in his hands.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “From uh…under that plant.” He pointed to a potted shrub that definitely didn’t look like it had been hiding a zipline. And then he secured the handle to a thick metal cable that ran from his balcony all the way to an adjacent building. Above six lanes of traffic. Hundreds of feet in the air.

  I was definitely going to die.

  Chapter 18 - The Escape

  Tuesday

  I shook my head. “Hell. No. I’m not riding that thing.”

  “You’d rather kill Frankie?” asked Ryder.

  “Than go splat on the pavement? Yes,” I hissed.

  “Good luck with that. And the SWAT team.”

  “I thought it was the FBI?”

  “Right…them.” He checked his watch. “They should be here any minute.” He adjusted his grip on the zipline and took a few steps back.

  Then I heard it. The door breaking. The officers yelling, “FBI!”

  Holy shit. My heart felt like it was about to explode out of my chest. I couldn’t get enough air. All I could picture was myself in prison and splattered in the middle of traffic. Somehow at the same time. I couldn’t move.

  “Raven, look at me,” said Ryder. He grabbed my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “I won’t drop you. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” The sincerity in his voice. The look in his eyes. I knew he was telling the truth. And most of all…his hands on me made my whole body feel like it was on fire. In a good way. Not in a Matthew Caldwell flaming penis way. And in that moment, I knew I had to go with him. Because I didn’t want him to stop touching me. And I certainly wasn’t safe here. I’d joined an apparently illegal sex club. I’d tried to rape Dr. Lyons. I was wanted on so many levels.

  “Fine. But if you drop me, I’ll kill you.”

  For a second he paused, like he was going to leave me behind.

  “I’m kidding. Please don’t leave me.” I jumped into his arms and he laughed.

  “Hold on tight,” he said.

  I wrapped my arms around his muscular torso and hooked my legs behind him. I felt so small wrapped around him. And so safe. Even though we were about to jump off a freaking building.

  “Three, two…” As he said, “one,” he jumped off the roof. I hung on for dear life with my face buried in his chest. The wind whipped my hair everywhere. My wig! Was my wig going to fly off? Or did it already? What if it flew off back on the balcony? It would have my DNA all over it. The police would have my identity.

  Before I could totally freak out - both about the wig and the cars below us - we slammed into a mattress and fell onto another. And there we were…two fugitives tangled up in each other after making an epic escape from the FBI. I breathed in the scent of blueberry pie mixed with sweat. It was intoxica
ting.

  “Are you sniffing me?” He smiled down at me.

  “What? No.” I rolled away from him. “I think a uh, bug flew in my nose.” I coughed and turned away.

  “I didn’t mind. I was just wondering. I probably smell like blueberries.”

  “And sweat.”

  “I thought you weren’t smelling me?” he asked.

  “Well not intentionally,” I said. “But how could I not when you’re all up in my business?”

  “You mean preventing you from falling to your death?”

  “Something like that. We were lucky there was a mattress propped on the wall like that to break our fall.” I looked down at the mattress we were on. The owner must have gotten a new one and forgotten how hard it is to get rid of an old one.

  “Lucky. Right. Well, we’re not out of the woods yet. They’ll see the zipline. We need to disappear. Follow me.” Ryder grabbed my hand and tugged me through some glass doors into an apartment.

  “Whose place is this?”

  “No idea, but I hope they have some clothes that fit us.” He started opening dressers and rummaging through the clothes.

  “Now we’re robbing someone?” I was going to end up in prison for sure.

  He pulled out his wallet and tossed a wad of money onto the bed. “That should cover it. Try this on.” He tossed me a slinky red dress.

  “Turn around,” I said. “I’m not just going to undress in front of some guy I just met.”

  “Okay. But you better not peek at me either, then.”

  I turned around and pulled my shirt over my head. I had my pants halfway unbuttoned when the sound of Ryder’s pants unzipping called to me. I snuck a look over my shoulder. Damn. I had pictured him out of his suits a thousand times…er, once or twice…but I had never imagined he’d look this good. I wondered how many times he’d pictured me naked. The dirty stalker.