Page 1 of Protective Tiger's Curvy Girl Crush

Chapter One

Toni

I’m wrong. I’m sure I’m wrong.

But I still walk a little more quickly than I need to. I guess I’m thinking about when I was a little girl and I was told time and time again that if I found myself dealing with an aggressive wild animal, I shouldn’t turn my back on it or run from it.

Well, I’m not dealing with an aggressive wild animal and I’m not even sure Maxwell is anywhere near me. If he is, though, he’s behind me. That’s the problem. If I turn around to check, I let him know I know he’s there.

I mean, I only think he’s there but you get the point.

Damn it. This is exactly the kind of crap I don’t want in my life. This is the exact kind of crap that made me decide Maxwell wasn’t my cup of tea.

Or soda pop. Or coffee. Or wine. Or any other damned drink.

I’m nervous and lost in thought so for a second, I feel sure I’ve gone past my street. I stop to look around but when I stop the sound of footsteps behind me is unmistakable. There are only three or four steps but it’s certain. Someone’s following me.

Maxwell. Maxwell is following me.

Well, I panic and I take off at full speed. Oddly, the panic gives me some clarity. I haven’t walked past my street. The Nelson’s house, the one with the ivy-covered fence approaches and then disappears behind me on the left. My street is a block ahead.

I know he’s running behind me.

I know he’s following me.

And since I’m running, he has no reason to play games anymore. He can just do whatever terrible thing he intends to do. I can feel tears falling but I keep myself silent. If I can’t keep myself from weeping, I can at least make sure I’m quiet enough that the sonofabitch behind me doesn’t get any satisfaction out of it.

I make it to my corner and duck under the branch on Barb Thompson’s tree. No. Not Barb anymore. Barb went to Oregon to live near her daughter. Who has the house now? “I don’t know,” I whimper. “Please…” Who the hell am I talking to?

My heart is just going crazy. I mean, I think it might be beating harder than it ever has before. I feel jittery and uncoordinated. My absolute resolve to keep from weeping aloud isn’t enough. I end up sobbing pretty damned loudly in fact. I hate that.

Of course, there are a million things to hate at the moment anyway.

I rush as fast as I can. My foot twists and my left shoe slips off. I fight my near uncontrollable urge to stop and get my shoe situated. The fact that the shoe is cheap, one-half of a thirty-dollar pair, doesn’t matter to me. If the shoe was a fifty-cent flip-flop from the dollar store I’d still feel like I have to stop and pick it up.

But I’m too afraid of stopping.

I rush forward and I’m thrilled to hear the sound of Vance’s fountain. My neighbor has a very elegant water fountain in his front yard, part of the beautiful landscaping. I’m almost home. I’m in a blind panic so it’s probably my imagination but I still think I’m hearing loud footsteps running behind me. My lights come on. They’re motion sensors. I rush up my driveway to the front door and try to get my key into the lock.

Naturally, I drop my keychain.

“No!” I scream. “No!”

I can’t get my hands to work. “Damn it. Damn it!” I search for the keys in the dim light from my front porch lantern. Damn it! “Why didn’t you replace the fucking light like you were going to?”Okay, well now, I know I’m talking to me.

I finally see my keys, blending into the pattern on my stupid doormat. I grab them with hands that are shaking so bad the keys jingle like Christmas bells on Santa’s sleigh.I’m just crying like an idiot now, damn it all.

I drop them again. “For fucks’ sake!” This would be funny if I were watching this in a theater with popcorn in my lap. But this is the farthest thing from funny I can imagine.

I can imagine Maxwell going crazy on me, though. I picture his strange smile and how his eyes glared like they had some kind of heat all their own. He was so possessive from the first second he sat down. Fuck!

I can’t find them, I can’t see them anywhere, and I’m pacing all over my front porch, trying to see in the dark and also trying to listen for any sound that would tell me the crazy bastard was about to attack me.

I think I see them almost to the edge of my porch just out of the little circle of light. I reach down, my God my hands are shaking so bad now, and I just about have them.

And then a hand grabs my shoulder.

“Fuck you! No! No! You fucking bastard! Leave me the fuck alone!” I swing my arm wildly in front of me with my key ready to stab. I’m sobbing so hard I begin to hiccup. This is some kind of awful nightmare.

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