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I hope she didn’t notice that it’s his left handprint, which means he was using his right hand for something else. Probably jerking off. Immediately, my stomach sours. Not only with anger but with unexplained jealousy as well.
“So you don’t think I’m crazy?” She asks it like nothing less than her entire life hinges on my answer. I wonder how many people haven’t taken her seriously.
“Has there been anything else?” Her head bobs up and down, and she crooks her finger, silently requesting that I follow her to her office.
“I keep my plants out here, though I probably shouldn’t since it crowds the landing, but everybody does it. Sometimes they’ll be out of place, like somebody moved one of them out of the way and didn’t put it back correctly.”
“You find it like that in the morning?” Her head bobs up and down. I see what she’s thinking. That somebody has been on her fire escape, watching her as she sleeps. “Has this window ever been tampered with?”
“One morning when I came in, little bits of paint were chipped off the frame, lying on the windowsill. I thought maybe somebody was trying to force it open, but I always lock it.”
I swallow down the words “good girl” and instead say, “Good thinking.”
“And there are other things. I’ve stopped going anywhere because I always feel like somebody’s watching me. I know it’s probably paranoia, but—”
I shake my head. “Don’t do that to yourself. Too many women do. And they end up wishing they hadn’t.”
“You’re the first person who’s taken me seriously.”
“Who else have you spoken to?”
“I called the police, but they told me there was nothing they could do. I even hired a private investigator, but that went nowhere.” Her voice shakes a little bit, and the vulnerability in it touches something deep inside me. Every protective instinct I possess leaves me wanting to wrap this girl up in a blanket, tuck her in, and tell her everything will be okay. A far cry from what I first thought when she ran after me on the street.
“What about your family? Have they offered to help you?”
She blurts out a laugh. “My family? My parents don’t even call me anymore, and when I call them, all I ever get is their voicemail. They’re probably not even in the country right now—always traveling, you know? So I’m sort of on my own.” She wanders out of the room, and I follow her until we come to the living room.
No wonder she was so desperate for help that she would stop a stranger.
I have to wonder if I’m the right stranger, is all.
The longer I spend in her presence, the more I’m inclined to believe I am. Because the thought of anyone hurting this girl has my stomach in knots, and seeing how vulnerable and trusting she is with a stranger like me makes me see red.
She needs protection. She needs me. But first, she needs a lesson.
3
DAKOTA
I can’t believehow incredible it feels knowing somebody actually takes me seriously. The cops were so damn condescending, they might as well have patted me on the head. The private investigator only wanted my money and was quick to tell me everything was fine once my payment hit his bank account.
But this man? He doesn’t know me. He has no reason to flatter me or give me lip service. He hasn’t even asked how much I plan on paying. Maybe I’m really crazy, but I think he might actually care.
Granted, he hasn’t accepted the job yet, either, but I get the feeling he will. He seems genuinely concerned, and he’s asking what seems to be the right questions. I like how he takes it upon himself to examine the windows, too, making sure everything’s in working order. Like he cares.
I look up at him, ready to ask if he’s interested in negotiating a salary when something in his face stops me. His bushy eyebrows draw together, and his eyes are blazing as he glares down at me. What did I do wrong?
“Let me get this straight,” he begins, taking one menacing step after another while I back away, confused. “You live here all alone.”
“Right,” I squeak out. What the hell is happening? Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?
“And nobody checks on you? No family, no friends?”
This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea. I should never have let him in. What was I thinking? I basically told him I have a rich family, for fuck’s sake. I don’t even know the man’s name, but he knows my parents aren’t in town and don’t care what happens to me.
“Not really.” Shit, this is getting worse. “I do have friends, but it’s not like I see them all the time.”Shut up, Dakota. Jesus, this is going downhill fast.
“And you thought it was a good idea to invite a complete stranger into your apartment?” Finally, he backs me into a corner. There’s nowhere for me to go, and he is so big. There’s so much of him, too much for me to slip past if I wanted to run. Which right now, I do. Very much. How could I have been so wrong? How could he go from being kind and helpful to being so angry and menacing at the drop of a hat?
