My stomach turned and I darted into the stall just in time todrop to my knees and purge everything into the toilet. I wasn’t usually a sloppy drunk. My nights didn’t end with me hugging the toilet, with my head hung in shame. I knew how to hold my liquor.
What I didn’t know how to handle was the realization that the guy I fucked was a stalker. Honestly, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, and it wasn’t, not really, not after finding the little figure. But it still hit me like a punch to the gut to realize just how wrong I had been about him.
Because the voice in my head had warned me that things went way beyond just normal stalking. That he was dangerous and if I wasn’t careful, I would get burned, but I hadn’t cared. I’d wanted him and I didn’t care about the signs or the red flags. In fact, I’d intentionally disregarded them and chosen not to look into him despite knowing I should, and the pressure from Victoria to do so.
Bile rose up my throat and I spat it into the bowl, gagging on the foul taste.
I couldn’t go back out there. There was no way I could face him, not when I didn’t know what he was capable of, what he wanted.
A flash of anger shot through me. I gritted my teeth and slammed my fist against the wall of the stall before I pushed myself to my feet.
Fuck. Him.
There was no way I’d let him make me feel small or powerless. Not like he did at the club. That had to be his game, but I refused to play. I wouldn’t cower or beg.
I was a fucking cop and I didn’t need anyone to protect me. He should have done his homework before he set his sights on me, but it was a mistake that was going to cost him.
Making my way back to the sink, I was a little unsteady on my feet from the violent puking. Plus, I’d already been starving when we’d gotten to the diner. My stomach was evenmore in knots after emptying itself in the toilet. Though I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat anything. Especially not with him.
I washed my hands, sheer determination keeping me upright as I walked to the door and threw away the paper towels on my way out.
Doubt crept in as I made my way back to the table. I wasn’t sure if I hoped he was there or if he had left. There were still so many unanswered questions I had, but I wasn’t even sure if I cared about thewhyeither way.
What he did was fucked up and inexcusable. Letting him explain would just be giving him a chance to make me doubt myself, to make me forgive him. And I couldn’t do that. Iwouldn’tdo that.
I was surprised when I rounded the corner and saw him still sitting there. His head was down, shoulders hunched, with his hands folded on the table in front of him. He looked like a man waiting for his execution.
Fuck.
This was not the night to be dealing with all the shit that Nate was throwing on my plate. I didn’t want to deal with it after all the drinking I’d done, even if at that point I’d thrown it all up.
I grimaced at the aftertaste left in my mouth. At least I didn’t have to worry about a kiss goodnight.
Steeling my resolve, I sat back down. Confusion nudged its way into the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me when he didn’t look up.
Was he ignoring me? Did he not even care?
Before I could say anything, the waitress came back over and placed our burgers on the table in front of us.
“Can I get you anything else?” She looked between us, like she wanted to say something but looked nervous. I wondered what Nate had said to her while I was gone. Maybe I shouldn’thave gone back to the table. But it was too late. I was already there.
Surprised he hadn’t taken the initiative, I glanced up at Nate, but he still refused to look at me. There was something about seeing him sitting there, lip tucked between his teeth, as though it was the only way he could keep himself from answering, where he seemed like a shell of himself, that sent a pang through me.
No! Stay strong.
“No, thank you.” I offered her a tense smile and she turned and left without another word, leaving me alone with all my bad decisions.
I leaned against the seat, staring down at the burger that usually had me salivating. But the thought of eating it made me want to run back to the bathroom and throw up again.
“You were stalking me.” It wasn’t a question because I didn’t need to ask. There was enough circumstantial evidence to know without him admitting it. But if I had any doubts, the way he flinched at the words was proof enough.
He didn’t say anything to confirm or deny, though. Smart on his end. But annoying as fuck for me. I knew why he wouldn’t want to answer my questions. As a cop, if he said anything incriminating, I could arrest him. But I wasn’t interested in that.
I just wanted answers.
“Hmph. And here I thought you said you were going to explain. Was that just another lie?” There was a bitterness to the words that I couldn’t keep at bay. But it got the reaction I wanted from him.
He peeked up at me, glaring. “Nothing was a lie.”
