Stalk Her

This entire house needs a cleaning, mold clinging to the tiles in here making me shudder every time I have to use it.

Turning the taps on as hot as they will go, I step under it’s punishing scald and scrub at my skin until it’s red and screaming for relief.

Soaping up my hair, I rinse and step out.

Wrapping the towel around my small frame, I ignore the grumbling from my stomach.

I haven’t eaten yet today, and I’m feeling weak because of it.

Fred doesn’t cook or buy any groceries, his mother always sends pot roast and the fat fuck scarfs it all down before me or his own son, my stepbrother Asher ever get any.

Going to the window, I stare out to see if Asher is back yet.

He always brings food, but his motorcycle isn’t anywhere to be seen, so it looks like I’m going hungry.

A sensation trickles over my skin as I peer out into the street. It’s unnerving, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

A shiver snakes up my thighs, pooling in my lower stomach.

I check my bedroom door to make sure Fred hasn’t ventured up the stairs, but it’s closed, so I turn back to the window, scanning the tree line and road beyond our yard.

A parked car sits further up the road.

The lights are on and a silhouette is in the driver’s seat, but there’s no house that far up.

Maybe they pulled over to take a call.

A chilly hand whispers up my spine as I snap the drapes closed.

Pulling on some sleep clothes, I grab a book and get under the covers.

There’s no heat in the house again, and I can practically see my breath with each exhale.

Just as my eyes begin to droop, the bedroom door opens and Asher fills the space.

His jeans are covered in oil from him helping out at the car garage.

My eyes zone in on the paper bag he’s holding, the smell of grease and burger sauce reminding me of my hunger.

I sit up and hold my hands out, needy.

Chuckling, he tosses the bag at me and walks over to my desk, pulling out the chair and taking a seat.

“Did you want something?” I ask with a raised brow as I burrow into the bag and pull out a hamburger.

“What are you offering?” he winks, and I’m not immune to his good looks.

Asher isn’t hurting for female company.

Huge green eyes and a smirk that could melt the panties from a catholic schoolteacher.

But my goodies aren’t available for the price of a burger and fries, and he knows it.

“You look cold, you want me to get in and warm you up?” he asks, dropping his gaze to my nipples tenting the fabric of the shirt I sleep in.

“You know the price of admission,” I smile tightly, taking a bite of the juicy goodness.

Shaking his head he gets to his feet and waltzes towards the door.

“You’re a sick puppy, you know that, right?” he throws over his shoulder.

“Did you get me a drink?” I call after him as he closes the door on his exit.

“Water in the taps, and you’re welcome,” he shouts back.

“Thanks,” I mumble back through the food in my mouth.

Cheapskate.

Seven

Chapter

ERIK

Waking to the sound of birds chirping in the trees boarding the road across from Alice’s property, I scrub a hand down my face and groan from my body protesting to me sleeping in an upright position all night.

I shouldn’t have stayed, but I was so fucking desperate for a glimpse of her again.

Seeing her through the window pane wrapped in nothing but a towel was a torture all its own.

Why do you put yourself on display like that?

For me to see you, that’s why.

Starting the car, I eye the dash clock that reads seven am.

She will be leaving for school soon.

Moving the car down the street, I exit and walk to the closest tree, hiding my form behind it while I wait for her.

She doesn’t keep me waiting long.

You shouldn’t walk alone in such a dangerous world, Alice.

Energy zaps through my body being so close to her. My footfalls mimic hers, and I ache to move closer, reach out and stroke her hair.

She’s wearing baggy jeans that hide her true figure from my eyes.

No coat, instead wearing an oversized sweater.

Hair loose, swaying wild and free, skimming just above her ass.

Mist creeps across the grass like spirits visiting to warn her of my presence as we come to a park.

She needs a car.

Her head is bowed down low, her hands shoved into the pockets of her sweater.

Her strides are unhurried.

Not a care in the world or acknowledgment of the dangers around her.

I easily track her footsteps with my own, waiting for her to realize I’m there, behind her, watching, following.

Teasing my restraint.

I slip behind a tree when her head lifts, her movements slow.