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“He actually seems like a genuinely good guy. He’s thoughtful and generous, and I’m not just saying that because he signs my hefty paychecks. Maybe he has an intense way of showing his affection, but...it doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of him.”
I pull my blanket farther up my lap. “Honestly, I don’t think I am.”
Now that I’ve said the words out loud, I realize how true they are. That first night I spotted Saint lurking in the shadows outside my house, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he might do to me, what he might be capable of. But sometime between then and now, my fear of him has evaporated. Whether it’s his repeated proclamations that he’ll never hurt me or the fact that the only time he touches me is to bring me pleasure, I’m not sure. But no matter how many times I mouth off to him, no matter how many times I threaten him or push him away, he’s never hurt me.
“I think you should date him,” Mack tells me.
My mouth falls open. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re suggesting I date mystalker. Amurderer.”
“I agree that part isn’tgreat?—”
“How can you even be entertaining the idea after everything that happened with your ex?”
She drops her gaze to her lap now. “Because Saint is nothing like James. I’ve never felt unsafe around Saint. When I started dating James, I didn’t know anything about his past, but I still always felt a bit uneasy around him. I wrote it off as early relationship jitters, but no matter how long I stayed, I never truly felt comfortable with him. I always felt uneasy on some level, and I just brushed it aside. But that gut feeling never went away. I knew he was dangerous from the beginning, but I forced myself to ignore my instincts.”
Ever since Saint entered my life, my instincts have been pulling me in his direction. Even when I learned how dangerous he is, even when I found him standing in my kitchen after he broke in, even when he recited my driver’s license number and showed me the pictures he keeps of me on his phone and in his wallet, my gut feeling has never been to run.
The logical voice in my brain is chanting that Saint is a walking red flag. But my gut is telling me to find out exactly how hard his tongue will make me come.
Or maybe that’s my libido.
Mack squeezes my knee. “Whatever your instincts are telling you, listen to them.”
Mack and I stay up as late as we can, mocking Frodo and cheering for Sam, until we both pass out and continue the movie marathon the next day. We binge on all the snacks in my house and order pizza until we finish the final movie.
The entire weekend, I feel eyes on us. Saint undoubtedly lurking in the shadows. But every time I peek outside, he vanishes. At least he doesn’t break in when Mack is here and terrify her. She doesn’t need that trauma after everything she’s been through.
In his own sick way, he’s trying to be sweet, giving me one-on-one time with my best friend.
God, what’s wrong with me? A stalker isn’t sweet. My stalker shouldn’t arouse me, shouldn’t make my thighs clench at the thought of his tongue between my legs. At the thought of what would’ve happened if I hadn’t fled his office that night. If I had let him do exactly what he wanted to do to me. Exactly what I wanted him to do.
When Mack gets ready to leave, I hug her and snuggle Ginger goodbye.
Almost the instant she pulls out of the driveway, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I can practically feel Saint’s breath on me.
I spin, but he isn’t there. I race upstairs and yank open a window, finally armed with a working flashlight.
I swing the flashlight back and forth until the tiny beam finally catches on a shadowy figure.
Saint is wearing his mask, and my heart skips.
“Miss me?” he calls, voice distorted.
“Actually, I was just about to get railed by my super hot date. Enjoy the show.”
He chuckles. “Nice try. I’m well aware you were alone with Mack all weekend.”
“I knew you were watching me.”
“Did you finally find the cameras?”
“Cameras? What cameras?—”
Oh mygod. This bastard hid cameras in my house to watch me. That’s why I felt eyes on me all weekend.
Of course I didn’t notice them among all the clutter in my house. Now I’ll have to comb through every inch. Who knows how many cameras he planted to watch me.
“When the hell did you put cameras in my house?” I hiss.
