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"I didn't get a look. It's just a feeling, okay? But it's strong. And I've learned to trust my instincts." I glance over my shoulder for the millionth time tonight, half-expecting to see a pair of eyes glinting in the darkness.
"Your location, ma'am?"
"I'm on the corner of Fifth and Lexington," I say, my breath hitching. I'm not used to asking for help. It's a language foreign to my tongue.
"Stay where you are. An officer will be with you shortly."
"Thanks," I whisper, and the line cuts. My heart thumps a staccato rhythm against my ribs. For a moment, I let myself imagine that it'll be Officer McLean who comes to my rescue. I shove the thought away.
Don't be an idiot, Lori.
* * *
Doug
"McLean, got a 10-90 on Fifth and Lexington. Possible stalker situation."
I snatch the walkie from its cradle, my fingers tightening around it. "Roger that. I'm nearby. I'll take the call."
"Copy, McLean."
As soon as the dispatcher confirms, a knot forms in my stomach—part excitement, part dread.
She senses me.
I’m the one who’s been stalking Lori, and because of that I know damn well it isn’t anyone else. A tide of guilt crashes over me, but I try to push it away.
"Any description of the suspect?" I ask, already moving in the direction of Lori’s location.
"Negative, the caller was unable to provide one."
Relief washes through me. Good. She doesn’t know it’s me.
"Understood."
I’m going to be near her again. I’ll be close enough to smell her shampoo, see those puffy pink lips, those perky young tits...I push the thought aside, focusing on the duty at hand. But I can't deny the electric charge that zips through me at the possibility of seeing her again, even under these circumstances.
I get in my car. Need to make this look official.
I pull up next to Lori, my lights spinning, their silent alarm cutting through the darkness. I scan the area—empty benches, trash swirling in a gentle breeze, the occasional rustle of a newspaper from an alleyway.
Lori is tucked away in the shadow of an awning. Her form is rigid, a statue carved from tension and moonlight.
"Playing hide and seek, Officer McLean?" she calls out, her voice laced with a hint of mischief that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Only if you're it," I retort, closing the distance between us. I can't help but smile. Even on edge, she's got fire. "But seriously, are you okay?"
She steps into the light, and damn, those green eyes of hers are like getting punched in the gut with beauty—takes your breath away every time. "I'm not sure yet," she admits, her gaze darting around before settling back on me. "Felt like someone had their eyes on me all evening. All week actually." She shrugs as she lets out a nervous half laugh. “I’m probably just being paranoid,” she mumbles.
"Want to tell me more about this mysterious admirer of yours?" I keep my tone light, hoping to ease some of the fear etched into her delicate features.
"Admirer? Please. If they were admiring, they've got a funny way of showing it." She tosses her hair over her shoulder—a black cascade that makes my hands itch to touch. "No flowers. No notes. Just creepy vibes."
"Guess they missed the memo on modern romance." I lean against the wall beside her, close enough to share warmth, to catch the subtle scent of her perfume. It's intoxicating, and I have to remind myself to focus. "You sure know how to pick 'em."
"Ha. I don't pick anything but bad luck, it seems." Her laugh is half-hearted, and she glances up at me through thick lashes. "Good thing the city's finest is here to protect me."
"Always," I promise without hesitation. My hand finds its way to the small of her back, a touch meant for comfort, but it sparks something else entirely. There's an electricity between us, undeniable, and it charges the air with possibilities.
