Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1)

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Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) Page 19

by Aislinn Kearns


  Maybe they weren’t even from him.

  Sierra considered this thought. Pulling out her phone, still eyeing the bouquet nervously, she texted Gary. The two had gone out on a few dates recently before deciding to end it amicably. They both knew there was no chemistry there.

  Did you send me flowers? She asked him. Nausea swamped her. She wanted to flee, but knew that was ridiculous. If she couldn’t face a bunch of flowers, then what good was she? Her nerves had been too highly strung the last year. Ratcheted up as she vacillated between being sure she was being stalked, to being certain that it was all in her head. Her paranoia was pushing her closer to the edge.

  Gary texted back almost immediately. No. Should I have?

  Tension tightened in her gut, tighter now. Sweat broke out on her neck.

  No. Thanks. It was all she could manage.

  She had to know.

  In a sudden rush, Sierra stepped forward and crouch down near the flowers. Her breathing was too shallow. Dizziness teased the edges of her consciousness. She deliberately took a deep breath, and reached out to touch a petal.

  The world didn’t end, the building didn’t come crashing down. She was still alive. They were just flowers, and she felt increasingly stupid about her fear.

  No turning back now.

  The dam had broken once she’d touched the rose, so Sierra searched the bouquet for any note or card that might have been left. Nothing.

  A sharp prick lanced through her finger and she reared back. Blood welled from a small cut on the pad of her index finger, sliding over the paleness of her skin. She glanced at the bouquet, looking closer without touching.

  All the roses still had their thorns.

  She stumbled back, landing with a thump on her butt and scooting away to the opposite side of the wide hallway. Not far enough. If she stretched out her stockinged legs in front of her, they’d knock the pot over.

  Those roses hadn’t come from a commercial florist. If they had, they would have trimmed the thorns off. Either the florist who sent them was sloppy at their job, or her stalker had gone to a lot of trouble to acquire roses with the thorns still attached.

  Horror slammed into her. This was the most forward her stalker had been. Until now, for an entire year, she’d been unsure that he existed. But now, surely, this was proof. She wasn’t going insane. He was real, and he was a threat. An escalating threat.

  Behind the horror welled a deep pit of fury. How dare he? How dare he terrorise her like this, make her question her sanity.

  In a fit of bravery, Sierra scooped up the bouquet and strode to the window at the end of the hall. She’d lost her heels somewhere in her shock, so she padded softly in her stockings, sinking into the thick, expensive carpet.

  She reached the window and looked for a way to open it. Nothing. It was just a pane of glass in the wall, not an operational window. Damn it. She was sure it was supposed to be a security measure, but it was inconvenient in her current rage.

  Coasting on her fury, Sierra jogged to the elevator. A few petals slipped from the buds, drifting to the floor to make a trail behind her. She ignored them. Someone would clean them up, but for now she just needed to get this evil symbol out of her domain.

  By the time the elevator had reached the ground floor, Sierra was trembling. Not entirely from anger, either. Fear had crept back in. A lump had settled in her throat.

  She carried the bouquet towards the spinning doors at the front of the lobby. A thought occurred to her, and she stopped in front of the security desk.

  “Sid?” she greeted the middle-aged security guard. He glanced up, a frown marring his brow as he looked at her. She must look a fright compared to her usual impeccable appearance. She tried to smile reassuringly. “Were you on duty when these flowers were delivered?”

  Sid shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

  She tried again. “When did your shift start?”

  “I started at midday. My shift’s nearly over now.” She glanced up at the clock ticking above his head, the sound loud in the quiet lobby. It was nearly 9pm.

  “You must have left this desk at some point during the day?”

  He frowned at her. “Sure, but I’m allowed toilet breaks. It’s in my contract.” He sounded defensive, and Sierra felt immediately guilty. She hadn’t wanted to accuse him of anything.

  “It’s okay, I just wanted to know who might have dropped these off. There’s no card.” She tried to look harmless. Instead, she felt like she was tipping over the edge into insanity.

  “Oh.” He eyed her again. “Maybe they slipped in when I was in the john,” he conceded.

  “Maybe,” she agreed, then turned away. She didn’t want to press the issue further.

  She continued outside the building and strode over to the public bin on the sidewalk in front of the building next door. Her stockings were ruined, and her feet no doubt filthy, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  The thud of the pot hitting the bottom of the bin was the most satisfying sound she’d heard all day. The tension in her chest loosened just enough for her to breathe.

  But it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  She made her way back up to her apartment, shivering as she caught sight of the rose petals still littering the corridor.

  She poured herself a large glass of white wine and drank it far faster than she normally would have done. Particularly on an empty stomach. But she’d needed something to steady her nerves.

  She needed help. She could admit that now. If he was escalating, then she could no longer pretend that he wasn’t real. Her instincts had been right all along.

  Thankfully, she knew just the person to call.

  For more adventures of the Soldiering On crew, click below:

  Soldiering On Series

  Soldiering On (Soldiering On #0.5) – See where it all began

  Guarding Sierra (Soldiering On #2) – Blake’s Story (Coming soon!)

  About the Author

  Aislinn is an Australian Expat living in Qatar. She completed a Bachelor of Arts in English and History, which she loved, and then went on to do a Masters in an unrelated field. She now largely pretends that last degree never happened.

  She enjoys reading, writing, travelling, and fantasising about her future cottage in a forest. Now that she’s published, her next life dream is to own a dog.

  Visit her at https://aislinnkearns.com/

 

 

 


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