Page 76 of Trick or Stalk

I close the book.

Jesus Christ.

I shouldn't be using a fucking romance novel to justify what I'm doing.

What I’m about to do tonight.

Presley likes it because it’s a fantasy.

She doesn’t know it’s her reality.

There's a difference.

I stare at the book.

My gaze shifts toward the window.

Daylight is already fading outside.

Presley is probably curled beneath the blanket on her couch in that big house in the woods. Maybe reading. Or watching television.

I stand and head to the living room.

Luckily, Wilder took my truck and went into town for a coffee. Said he was going stir crazy.

At least he’s not here to witness me leaving. Again.

I grab my jacket and shove my arms into the sleeves.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

Stay here. Before you’re in too deep.

Deep down, I know it’s too late.

I’m already in too deep.

I pick up my flashlight and walk out the door, locking it behind me.

Knowing something is wrong has never been particularly effective at stopping me.

I tell myself I won’t stay long.

That I just want a glimpse of her.

Just one, to satisfy this urge.

I already know that’s bullshit.

It’s become a habit. A craving taking root.

Something that’s getting harder to control.

And I’ve always been in control.

Until now.

I shrug the thought off and follow the trail through the woods, ending up behind the same tree I've stood behind every other time I've come here.