Page 22 of Stalk Her


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Without given him a reply, I turn on my heel and storm off.

He has been in my room, because shits missing from my wall.

Twenty-One

Chapter

ERIK

Thinking about her has become so prominent in my mind that I’m not sure if she’s just an illusion I’ve created in my need for her, or if I’m really standing here looking at the girl who preoccupies my thoughts.

The pane of glass acts as yet another barrier between us, stopping me from reaching out for her and never letting go.

Would she even remember me from our brief moment? Recognize any glimmer of the man who sniffed her hair in the elevator?

I’ve dreamt of this moment, played it out over and over, but never had the drive to see it through. Because once the chase is up… she will never be free of me.

I need you, Alice.

Watching from afar is a game for me, testing my restraint.

An edge game that keeps my adrenaline pumping and my fire burning.

She’s like a fine wine I’ve been saving for the right moment.

It’s been weeks of watching her, learning her routines, the people in her life.

Just drifting through her life, asleep at the wheel.

There’s something missing inside her; it shows in her soft, muted, dark eyes.

They have a smoky flare that’s waiting to be ignited in a fiery passion.

I can be the spark she’s been missing all this time.

She’s lonely, like me.

She needs me. Like I need her.

I push through the door of the clothes shop she’s in. The whore who works here has already spotted me, like her hormones are on alert and her radar has found a potential new victim.

Unlikely.

She’s looking for something she can’t have. I’m not here for her.

Without looking over at Alice, I can see her in my peripheral view.

She’s flicking through a rack of dresses, a frown on her features.

A man in here with his wife lets his gaze linger on her too long.

Do you want to die today?

The stench of burnt coffee beans assaults my senses as the assistant approaches me.

“Hey, what can I get you? It can be anything,” she winks, and I wonder if this really works for her or if she knows it’s desperate and unattractive.

“I’m just looking.” And it’s true, just not at the clothes she’s selling.

She bites her lip then holds her finger up in the air like a bulb just went on inside her empty head. “Maybe you need something for a date? Girlfriend? Wife?” she queries, dropping her eyes to my naked finger.

As if my body is tethered to hers, I sense Alice moving closer to us.

Her flowery perfume wafts over me, and then she comes into view.

Dark strands of velvet hair spiral down her back.

She’s smaller than she looks in her photos, and though she usually wears baggy clothes, today she’s in a summer dress despite the rain trickling down outside.

She’s such an exception to all rules.

Her small shoulders sag a little as she moves to the counter, and then they straighten, and her thick lips part as she looks up at me.

Her deep brown orbs seeing me for the first time.

There’s instant, palpable energy when our eyes lock.

Her breathing increases, raising her chest and straining the fabric of her dress against her ample bust.

The tension in her body dissipates like she diluted right in front of me from just a look.

Like our souls were greeting an old friend, introducing us to the new bodies they inhabit.

When the sales assistant returns to the counter, I keep my gaze trained on Alice, her eyes hypnotic and alluring.

The annoying assistant asks her for her items.

I make my way through the shop, keeping my eyes trained on Alice while shifting into the shadows, so I can rub the ache that has begun building.

As I pass the guy who can’t keep his eyes from what is mine, I kick the shoe that’s protruding from the seat he’s perched in.

He looks up from the paper he’s pretending to read, but I don’t waste energy on him.

Not when she’s here for me to focus on.

There are loud voices coming from the front of the store, some woman talking animatedly on a cell phone, but summoning all my attention is Alice.

She’s walking towards me, a bag with her purchase inside gripped in her palm.

An exotic pink glow creeps up her neck and bursts onto her cheeks, her eyes expanding as she takes me in.

“Do I know you?” she breathes. Silence and then, “I feel like I know you.”

The pull at the corner of my lips is hard to fight, so I allow the soft smile to grace my face.

She’s holding her purse to her chest like it’s a life raft and she may be drowning.

Her juicy fat lips part and her pupils dilate as she gazes up at me like I’m a mythical creature she’s discovering for the first time.

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