Page 35 of Watching Her

Calm down. He’s not trying to hurt you.

My thoughts drifted to the troll I’d already acquired. I’d made no secret about where I’d be this weekend, sharing the graphics and details on all my social media pages. With my business right there front and center, whoever the bastard was could easily find out who I was in real life.

All he needed was some money to grease a few palms. Jesus. Maybe I should become a thriller author.

Another moment of trying to play it cool while the fear remained as a lump in my throat.

His footsteps became quicker as if he was jogging. That’s when I turned on my heel, lifting my arm and prepared to strike if necessary. “Stop.” I threw my other arm out. “You sent the card. Didn’t you? You’ve been following me.”

To his credit, he did stop, his face contorted. “What card?” We were now under a bank of trees and I could see his face. He was the guy who’d all but accosted me before at the charity event of all places. He was still drunk. What the hell was wrong with these guys?

I started to answer and had a strong feeling he hadn’t been the sender. I was creeped out more than before.

With his body swaying, he raked his hand through his hair and I noticed the huge ring on his finger, diamonds sparkling in the shimmering lights of the trees.

“You gonna hurt me, cause I like it rough.” His laughter indicated he was enjoying the hell out of himself. Why was it all rich guys acted as if they owned women? My growly side was quickly surfacing.

“No, I’m going to head to the front desk and tell them some jerk is bothering me. But I will hurt you if you come any closer.”

I’d be damned if the guy didn’t grin and do just that. “I’m not used to taking no for an answer.”

What was a girl to do? I stabbed him in the arm. “Maybe you should learn.”

“Ouch! You fucking bitch.”

The only time I wasted was long enough to drag a chair in front of him. I heard the horrific crash as he tumbled over it, swearing the entire time. There were jerks everywhere in every walk of life, alcohol allowing them to believe they were king of the hill. Couth couldn’t be bought.

The man was just a jerk hiding under expensive clothes.

At least I knew he didn’t have the balls to be a creeper. In fact, he likely had balls the size of marbles.

With the fear replaced by amusement, I headed into the hotel. Maybe he’d end up sleeping off his night of debauchery on the cold, hard concrete floor.

* * *

Christian

I’d learned over the years just how ignorant men were in dealing with women.

Whether in business or in acts of pleasure, they certainly relied heavily on their supposed manhood. Granted, I could likely be placed in the same category given my penchant for certain darker proclivities. However, I appreciated women for their intelligence, their skills, their use of cunning when necessary, and even their empathy.

Yes, I considered myself a predator, but a piece of shit like the one who’d not only accosted Penelope but had dared to terrify her was true garbage. He was also a horrific representation of the male species.

Which was why the man had to die.

Plain and simple.

There was no other alternative in my mind.

I’d allowed him to live after the first offense, thinking him nothing but a sloppy drunk, which he was. Killing him at the gala wouldn’t have boosted my reputation, but in the dark gallows of his hotel room there was no need to play coy.

I’d watched him stalking her, commenting with his buddies about his plans after getting her alone. He’d pretended more of his drunken stupor than anything. I knew because I was the master of observation.

He didn’t care who she was or that he was here representing a wealthy family himself.

The sheer sight of her talking to anyone else made my ribs tighten like a cage. My reaction wasn’t rational, of course and I knew that. It was an ache, a desperate, clawing need to pull her back into my space until she breathed my air alone. In seeing the son of a bitch acting as if he owned her had catapulted my anger onto an entirely different level, one that hadn’t crossed my path in a long time.

She didn’t understand how easily the world could break her, or how violently I would tear it apart to keep her whole. I wanted my touch branded into her skin so deeply that anyone else who looked at her would know they were stepping onto hallowed, dangerous ground.