Stalking Her

“I got her,” I grunt into the mic.

I push people in the crowd to make my way to the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. There’s a lot of people, but just like any other time, I find her easily. She’s struggling in the arms of a man, and I run full speed to them. “What the fuck?” I say, just as I put my hand out to stop the man from swinging and hitting her.

I recognize him as one of the yuppie assholes that was watching her earlier, and I start to pummel him without any thought to anything except making sure he’s never able to touch her again.

“Lane! Stop. You’re going to kill him,” my Angel says as she tries to come between me and the man lying on the floor.

She puts her hand to my heaving chest. I put the mic to my mouth. “Clean up in the hallway. And make sure he learns a lesson for touching Angel.”

“On it,” Mike says. “She okay?”

And the fact that I can hear the concern in his voice is the only thing that’s going to stop me from firing his ass. He knows how important Angel is to me, and there’s supposed to be eyes on her at all times.

“Yes. She’s fine. I got her.”

People are all standing around, videoing and taking pictures. Brooke stands behind me. “I can’t be on the news for this.”

Fuck, in my endeavor to protect her, it seems I’ve fucked up. She’s an up-and-coming attorney, and she sure as shit can’t be surrounded by all of this.

“I’m leaving. Hold down the fort. I’ll be back,” I say into the mic as I hustle Brooke out the back door.

I stop in the alley and watch her. She’s holding her hand in front of her. “You okay?”

She nods. “Yeah, I got one punch in, but obviously I’m not a fighter.” She holds her hand out, and her knuckles are red and bruised.

I tense, debating on going back in there, and she must realize it because she shakes her head. “He’s not worth it.”

“Can I take you home?”

I wait for her to refuse. No doubt she’s going to, but she surprises me when she says yes. “Let me just text Brenda and Cassie so they are on the lookout in case that guy’s friends are asses too.”

She takes her phone out of her back pocket and starts to text. I walk her to my truck and help her inside. She’s on her phone most of the ride. “I’m sorry. They’re worried about me.”

“It’s no problem,” I tell her. Honestly, I’m glad she has friends looking out for her.

She’s quiet the whole way until I’m pulling up to her apartment building.

She gets out before I can say anything, and I meet her at the front of my truck. She’s still holding her hand, but she’s looking at me curiously. “Are we going to talk about the fact that you know where I live?”

I debate on answering her truthfully for only a second, and then decide against it. There’s nothing good that can come from the fact that I’m her stalker. But I can’t lie to her. “I’d rather not.”

She’s watching me. She’s standing so close to me her head is bent back so she can look up into my face. This is the closest we’ve been to each other, and I’m breathing her in, hoping to commit her vanilla sugar scent to memory.

She puts her hand on my chest. My heart is beating erratically, and I wonder if she can feel it. “Are you coming up?”

I reach up and wrap my hand around hers. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her no when she flinches. I let her go and realize that I’d forgotten her hurt hand. “Yeah,” I grunt and then clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m coming up. I’m going to take care of that hand.”

She turns then, and I follow her through the door. The doorman has it open for her, and he’s openly watching me in disgust. I’m sure he doesn’t get a lot of men in here that are covered in tattoos. The high dollar apartment building and snooty doorman is just another sign that Brooke, my Angel, is out of my league. Regardless, I nod at him and follow Brooke into the elevator. “I’m on the fifth floor,” she says, and then turns to look at me. “But you probably already know that.”

I don’t answer her either way. Instead I stand next to her and swear I can feel the heat coming off her body. She takes a step closer to me, and my hand that is hanging at my side brushes along her jean-clad thigh. She sucks in a breath, and I clench my eyes tightly together to refrain from taking her right now against the elevator wall.