Stalked (Predators MC 4)

The cramps attacking her stomach drowned out the last of his promises as she huddled miserably back in the seat, crying as her father drove through the darkened city.

“You okay back there? Don’t be upset, kiddo. You’ll like this town we’re going to much better; you’ll see. I’m just doing what’s best for us both. You wouldn’t want to see your daddy unhappy, would you?”

“No,” she choked out after he shot her a glare from over his shoulder when she didn’t immediately respond.

“That’s my princess. You’re one of a kind. As soon as I get my first paycheck, we’ll go shopping… Maybe you’ll lose some weight by then. You’re getting a little pudgy… I don’t know how you’re getting so fat with as much as you throw up. We need to see about getting those teeth fixed, too. You’re always costing me money. I’ll be glad when you’re old enough to pull your own weight. You’re lucky I love you to death, or I would have given you to that slut of a mother you always whine about. Has she ever called you?”

“No.” Her empty stomach clenched tighter at the admission.

“Damn right she doesn’t.” Her father snorted. “I’m the only one who has your best interests at heart; don’t forget that.”

“You don’t have one,” she mumbled as she doubled over in pain.

“What’d you say?”

“I said I won’t.” Zoey raised her voice so he could hear her lie.

“You better not. We have to stick together. I would say through thick and thin, but I’ll never see that day. But you get my meaning, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s the girl I love to death.”

“I love you to death, too.”

Zoey tugged the strap of her backpack over her shoulder as she lowered her head to keep the wind from hitting her directly in her face. Then she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head as she stepped off the bus. At seventeen, she didn’t draw motherly gazes on her as she had set out on her journey; it was the male predatory one she sought to escape their notice.

The freezing rain wasn’t welcoming her to the city that she picked out. A city that was the farthest she could get away from the last one she left.

Tiredly, she hunched her backpack farther onto her shoulder, then made her way into the terminal.

She found herself jostled from behind as the others getting off the bus were anxious to get out of the damp weather. Warily, she moved to the side to let them pass while scanning the crowd of people who were waiting for the arrivals. Her shoulders slumped under the weight of her backpack. Unlike the others, she had no one waiting for her arrival, nor any place to go.

Her first stop was finding the restroom. Locating it, her lagging footsteps picked up their pace. She was anxious to relieve herself on a toilet that wasn’t shaking, one where no one was waiting for their turn, she had tried to not to use the restroom on the bus, but the nearly four-day journey had made that impossible, despite the stations and breaks she had been given.

As she came out of the stall to wash her hands, a flyer taped to the wall by the hand dryer caught her eye.

New Chance Café,

Where everyone deserves a new chance to start over.

Free coffee and sandwiches.

Free Wi-Fi.

The flyer had her at the free. A meal that she wouldn’t have to pay for would save some of the precious money she had left.

Zoey memorized the address, then lifted her backpack onto her shoulders. Not only could she use a free meal, she wanted that chance to start over too. Her teacher had advised her to be open to new opportunities, setting her onto this path. Now it was up to her to do the rest.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the handle of the door then swung it open.

“Queen City, here I come.”

1

MOM,

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOXXOXOXXOXOXOOXXOOXXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOOXXOXOOXOXOXXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOXOOXXOOXXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXXOOXOXOXXOXOOXOXXOXOXOXOXOX

LOVE,

ZOEY

Zoey juggled her hot lavender tea and the umbrella that was determined to fly out of her hand. It might not have been the brightest idea to go out in the driving rain and blowing wind for the tea.

Using her cup to press the button for the walk sign, she waited for the light to turn so she could cross the busy street. Then she lifted the cup to her lips and was about to take a sip when she heard the loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. Not a second later, she felt a deluge of water striking her body and soaking the blouse and skirt she picked out that morning.

Gasping, she looked toward the culprit, seeing the motorcycle ride past her, uncaring that he had just drenched her.

Zoey could only look down at her sodden clothes and the now ruined, flimsy sandals she had worn optimistically, despite the call for rain.