Emily's Protectors (The Protectors 2)

“Yes, I have a package for Emily Baxter. It was delivered to my house when no one answered here.” The woman called back.

Doing the inevitable and opening the door, she looked at the package, not trusting that it could be anything good considering no one had a fixed address for her. Everything went through a P.O. Box at the post office five miles away.

Not wanting to talk to anyone, she grabbed the box from the woman, thanked her, and closed the door. Carrying it to the kitchen table, she put it down and stared at it. Weary of its contents, she grabbed a knife and carefully cut through the tape across the top. Opening the flaps, she cautiously peeked inside.

“Shit,” she breathed out, realizing her worry was for nothing. She had forgotten about the printer ink she’d ordered express delivered to her house two days ago.

Feeling slightly foolish for her worry and guilty about her rudeness to her neighbor, Emily went to get a drink of water when she remembered that her phone had rung. Grabbing it she swiped across the screen and opened her text messages, only to stop short. Frozen in fear. It took her a few minutes to understand what she was seeing. It was another photo. This time, it was one from that morning when Dane and Coop had taken her to the police station after she’d tried running away and Coop had chased her. She’d run into Dane, and shortly after Coop had been pressed to her back. She had felt safe there. Like nothing could hurt her again. Now, she was terrified. It wasn’t the photo that scared her then, it was the message scrawled across in red that did.

Get rid of them or they’ll die, and you’ll suffer.

Staring at the photo again, she felt abject fear. Emily wanted to be free, but she certainly didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of it. Sitting down and dropping her head to the table, she was nearly in tears trying to figure out what to do.

She missed the old her; her old life. It wasn’t perfect, but she had been happy, healthy. Now she felt like a shell of the woman she once was. She missed her Mom, too. It had been just the two of them for so long that they weren’t just mother and daughter, they had been best friends. Now, she hadn’t spoken to her Mom in over a year, and she was missing her something fierce.

Her Dad had died when Emily was only four, leaving them with little money and even fewer resources. Until then, her Mom had been a homemaker since she’d been pregnant with her, so she had little to no experience; therefore, she had to work multiple low-paying jobs to keep them afloat. After years of online classes, she had finally gotten a degree in administration and went to work at a law firm when Emily was sixteen. They thought their troubles were over. That they would be ok. It wasn’t long after getting her own degree when she was eighteen that Emily landed her first job and consequently found herself being stalked.

Her mom supported her in everything, and she wished she were here now. She sure could use her advice on what to do about not only the stalker but her unwanted attraction to Dane and Coop. She’d never experienced desire before so she felt a little lost about the attraction, and to have it for the both of them was scary. How was she supposed to deal with that? She could never choose between them. Then again, maybe neither of them wanted her and that would be problem solved.

Sighing at the direction her thoughts were going in, Emily got up and grabbed some Excedrin, a glass of water, and an apple before calling it a night. Even though she had slept most of the day away, she still felt exhausted from the stress of it all.

Watching Emily through her kitchen window without her noticing was risky, but it was worth it to see her face when she received his text message. The picture was just a warning; she belonged to him and no one else.

He’d been watching her since she was seventeen. They first crossed paths when he noticed her studying in a library he frequented. Sitting there all innocent and unknowing, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She used to smile shyly at him over books when she would sense his stare. He had been transfixed by her beauty, her blonde angel-like hair, those succulent red lips, and he wanted to worship her. But then she got that boyfriend and ruined it all. She had led him on with her secret smiles and innocence. Which was why he’d destroyed her room nearly two years ago after he realized what a whore she was. The terror on her face gave him a high he’d never experienced before; it was a rush knowing she was afraid.

Every time she disappeared it had been a thrill to chase her at first, but now he was starting to get tired of running after her, having to find her each time. He was getting angry now, and while he wanted to watch her bleed, he didn’t want to kill her in anger. He wanted to savor her. Watch the life drain from her eyes, the blood drip from the cuts he planned to inflict all over her body. Slowly. Sweetly.

The day is coming where you’ll be mine, sweet, sweet Emily, he thought, giddy over the idea of finally owning her.

Being woken up by a buzzing phone was not something Coop looked forward to. Groping on the nightstand for it, he finally found it. Picking it up he grumbled out, “What?”

“Well, good mo

rning sunshine. This seem a little familiar?” Creed howled at him.

“Yeah, yeah, fucker, what do you have for me?” he asked waking up instantly, knowing that Creed wouldn’t be calling unless he had the information they needed to hopefully find Emily’s stalker.

“Ok, so here’s the skinny on your girl. Dad died when she was four leaving her and Mom alone with nothing. Mom worked any and every job she could get to make ends meet, meaning Emily spent a lot of time either alone or at the local library. She grew a knack for graphic design and started creating things for the town she grew up in. Now fast forward to when she’s sixteen, Mom gets a better job in the big city, Em graduates early and starts taking online classes. Has her degree by eighteen.”

When he took a breath Coop interrupted asking, “How’s this help, man? I need to know the things that aren’t on the surface.”

“Calm your ass down dude, I’m getting there. So she starts at this firm creating websites for small companies, but she’s good, man. Your girl’s got talent. Anyway, she’s there about ten months then poof! Gone. Disappeared without a word to anyone. I assume that’s when she ran from her stalker. But there was this one guy there, kinda sketchy, so I looked into him. Seems he had a crush on her. Em never said anything to the bosses, but one of the girls she worked with had been concerned about his infatuation for her, so I’m digging into him some more. My guess, she rejected him and he took offense. Only thing is he’s still there. Never taken any extended vacation. Can’t find anything to say he’s gone out of town for more than a night. No proof they’d even been in the same towns or cities after she left. That’s it for now, I’ll holler back once I’ve got more,” he said before hanging up.

Putting the phone back down, Coop flopped onto the bed and threw his arms over his eyes thinking about what Creed had just told him. He wondered if Emily had even thought about the guy she rejected as being the one to do this. Or if she even knew she had rejected him. Some stalkers were real head cases, making relationships with other people out of nothing more than a smile or simple greeting. Hearing his phone beep again, he grabbed it and saw Creed had sent him a text.

Creed: Fucker’s name is Henry Stubbs.

Coop: Thanks.

Getting out of bed he walked to his dresser, grabbing a pair of jersey cut-off sweats and put them on. Going to the kitchen of his apartment, he got himself a water and chugged it down. Picking up his keys and phone off the entry table and slipping on his runners, he headed out for his morning jog. Running down the stairs of his building, he bumped into one of the other tenants from his floor. Annoyed because he was sure she ran into him on purpose, he tried to sidestep when she ran her fingers down his bare chest.

“Hiya, handsome.” She purred out, but actually she sounded like her mouth was chalk full of something nasty.

Sighing because it was futile to try and thwart her. “What do you want, Cherise?”

“When are we going to stop this game, Coop? I’m tired of chasing you. We’d be so good together.”

Unable to stop the sour look on his face, he told her straight up, “It’s not a game, Cherise. You’re simply too aggressive for my tastes. I want a woman who not only understands the meaning of demure but can spell it, too. And you don’t have that in you.” At that parting shot, he walked away but not before he heard her stomp her feet and give a squeal of frustration as he walked out the building’s main door.