Page 3 of Stalkers Anonymous

“We’re almost out of time,” Tracey says, checking her watch after another twenty minutes or so of discussion. “Our closing ritual is simple—each person shares one boundary they commit to respecting in the coming week.”

They go around the circle, each person offering their commitment.

“I won’t look up the bride from Saturday’s wedding,” Grant says.

Only because he’ll be too busy looking up the bride from Friday’s wedding.

“I won’t adjust my brewing schedule to match when certain customers usually visit,” Tyler promises.

He won’t have to, since he likely already set a schedule with those customers in mind.

“I won’t search for my former student’s new publications,” Austen states firmly, like he’s trying to convince himself.

Doubtful. He’s going to look her up before he even gets to his car. The twitch in his fingers makes it painfully obvious how desperate he is to pick up his phone.

“I won’t drive by my client’s neighborhood,” Zach mutters.

It’s a blatant lie. We all know it.

“I won’t check anyone’s social media but my own,” Jessica says confidently. “I should probably just delete it, but…baby steps.”

She’s the only one I might actually believe. Maybe.

They all look at me, and I scramble for something that sounds sincere enough.

“I won’t……run background checks on new people I meet,” I offer, thinking it’s appropriately specific while not limiting my actual work.

Tracey nods in approval, giving me a “good enough but I’m watching you” look, almost like she’s threatening to expose my secrets to the group. She knows the truth about why I’m here—Shitbag Steve, his suit against NextGen, and the way I’m a liability to Jack’s company. She wouldn’t call me out in front of these people, would she?

“Thank you all for your honesty and commitment. Same time next week. Tyler, please connect with Cole before you leave.”

As the group disperses, Tyler approaches, phone already in hand. “Let’s exchange numbers. Fair warning—I take the buddy system seriously. I’ll check in daily, and I expect responses.”

I raise an eyebrow as he hands me his phone. I quickly type my number into his contacts. “Daily? My boss only requires me to attend weekly meetings.”

“Your boss requires you to participate in the program. Daily check-ins are part of that.”

I hand him his phone back.

“Look, Cole, I get it. You think this is bullshit. You’re not like us because you had a ‘good reason.’ We all had good reasons.” His expression turns serious. “The sooner you drop that defense, the sooner you’ll actually get something out of this.”

“I’m just trying to get through it,” I admit, tiredly rubbing the back of my neck.

“Then play the game. Answer my texts. Do the homework. Say the right things to Tracey.” He shrugs. “Or don’t, and risk your boss deciding you’re not complying with the terms of your agreement.”

Put that way, the choice is clear. “Fine. Daily check-ins. Whatever you want.”

“Good. First one’s easy—what’s your plan for the rest of the night?”

I think about it, then choose my words cautiously. “Go home, order takeout, and work on a new security protocol for a client.”

“Anything that might trigger you?”

I almost laugh, but opt for a smile instead. “I’m a cybersecurity specialist. My entire job involves monitoring people and threats.”

“You know what I mean. Personal monitoring. Anything outside of work that might get you in trouble.”

“No, Tyler. I’m not planning to stalk anyone tonight.” The word feels wrong in my mouth, foreign and harsh. I hate it.