Page 3 of Tormenting Me

Markus is still a no-show after waiting outside for hours, so I send a text to Davis with an update. Then I’m on my way to my favorite burrito place to grab a bite to eat. Burrito in hand, I lean up against the car savoring the delicious food, up until my phone pings. Pulling it out, I see that Samuel made a quick detour on his way to work this morning. He drove right past a middle school and it makes my blood boil as I wrap the rest of my burrito and toss it back into the bag. The engine roaring to life again, I make my way back to Markus’s address.

More hours pass, and I’ve determined that he’s smarter than I gave him credit for. Returning to the office, I drop off the file and let Courtney know I’m leaving since Davis is in a meeting. But before I go, I lock my office.

I need to see her again tonight.

Layne is all I can think about.

Headed home, I keep thinking of her. Her smooth skin covered in ink, like my own. Her piercing eyes that I long to be lost in. I want to know everything about her, her likes and dislikes, to her deepest secrets. My curiosity extends to wanting to uncover the fascinating stories behind the sights she’s witnessed and the songs that have the power to make her heart soar. It forever changed my life when I first saw her. Layne Murphy.

Once in the loft, I change my clothes into something more comfortable for my stalking activities. Black hoodie and jeans with boots, then I grab my mask just in case I need it. Unlikely, but you never know when you might need to hide your identity. The zombie faced mask has the shock factor, and has made every single victim piss themselves.

Checking the time, I decide to wait longer for darkness.With my car parked a few blocks away again, I make the walk to Layne’s apartment. I can see her moving around, and as I get closer I can hear music blasting. Deciding to chance it, I climb up the fire escape and get a closer look. Hiding in the corner, with a view of her apartment, I get to see that Layne is in nothing but a baggy band shirt and booty short underwear.

It makes me smile to see her twirling and moving around within the room, but I notice when she seems to be bumping into surfaces multiple times. My brow furrows as I look around and see the bottle of vodka on the counter, which indicates she’s intoxicated and my stomach clenches at the thought that she’s drinking by herself. After the song ends, Layne turns off the stereo and goes to the counter where she pours herself another glass and downs it.

When she puts the cup down, she leans into the counter and I can see tears falling down her cheeks. Maybe she’s just an emotional drunk? She turns and goes into what I’m sure is the bathroom, then comes out a few moments later only to flop onto her bed. Watching as she cries herself to sleep, my heart shatters as a wave of emotions flows over me. I want to make her pain disappear.

Over an hour later, she’s asleep and so I pull at the window and it slides open. Again. With silent footsteps, I cautiously enter the room, careful not to make a sound, even as the floor creaks beneath my boots. Rolling my eyes as Layne shifts, I flatten against the wall next to the fridge as she sits up and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Its rhythm echoing throughout the room.

After a minute, she lands back on the mattress with a loud thump, clearly still asleep. That was close. Too fucking close. I need to be more careful, but my feet carry me closer to the bed regardless. As I crouch down in a corner, I watch her sleeping on her side and hear that whimper again. Another nightmare. She says nothing, only cries and soft sounds leave her lips. I wish she’d say a name, so I’d have someone to pursue for hurting her.

As I watch her struggle, I think of all the ways I could change her life. If she was mine, she wouldn’t have to be afraid of whatever was causing her nightmares. She’d sleep well and I’d fight the monsters away. Hell, I’d fuck her until she was too exhausted to need to drink herself to sleep.

All the scenarios are living rent free in my brain right now, but when I check my watch I determine that it’s time to go. I need sleep so I can be a functioning human for work tomorrow.

I have to locate a murder suspect.

Chapter three

Wes

August

It’s an unusually warm day today in the city, so how am I spending this fine Saturday? With Layne and her little friend. Well, I’m tagging along and they are none the wiser of my presence. I’m dressed in a pair of black shorts, a white Pennywise shirt, a zip up jacket, a backwards hat and my glasses. The nerdy music lover look might get me caught, but does it really matter? I need this girl more than I need air to breathe. It’s almost as if I’m begging her to catch me.

Layne’s friend drags her around the mall to shop. As I discreetly follow Layne and her friend Atlas, I can’t help but notice the stark contrast between them. Layne, my introverted and reserved girl, seems to despise every moment of this shopping expedition. Meanwhile, Atlas, the epitome of an extrovert, skips around with boundless energy by her side. Even from a distance behind them, his voice carries and I listen in on them chatting away.

“What store should we hit first? Or should we get a smoothie? I could kill a strawberry banana smoothie right now.” He asks over his shoulder, Layne’s shorter legs desperately try to keep up with him.

“Whatever you wanna do…” she huffs, out of breath. “We can look around and then hit the smoothie place. I think it’s at the end of this floor, anyway.”

It’s baffling to me how Layne and Atlas became such close friends. I’ve done extensive research on him, trying to understand what draws her to him. But no matter how much I analyze their dynamic, I can’t seem to comprehend it. They met in high school and have been inseparable since.

As they walk through the mall, I watch as Layne follows Atlas, her eyes filled with minor irritation and affection. It’s clear that she values their friendship, even if it means enduring activities that are outside of her comfort zone. I stand aside, watching them explore a few stores. Atlas drags her to a little smoothie shop that’s tucked into the corner. Layne orders a tropical smoothie, with pineapple and coconut. I watch as she takes a sip and her eyes roll back.

Mental note: She likes pineapple and coconut smoothies.

I can’t help but feel a pang of envy as I follow them through the bustling mall. I long to be the person who brings a smile to Layne’s face and fills her days with laughter. Yet, here I am, an invisible presence, merely observing from a distance. I could simply ask her out and she might say yes.

But, I’m not a normal guy. I don’t think I have ever been “normal”. Even growing up, I was the nerdy jock that kept to himself. I was way more into science and comic books than partying and getting drunk, like my peers. I found solace in my own world of curiosity and imagination. I never dated in school with the exception of taking a friends sister to the prom, but nothing ever came of it.

Here I am, grappling with insecurities, questioning why I can’t be like other guys. Why can’t I just muster the courage to ask Layne out like any other person would?

Because your an obsessive asshole that’s why.

I’m not what you’d call a “people person.”

Atlas drags Layne into a lingerie store, and Layne’s face turns a deep shade of scarlet. This time I follow inside and lurk in the corner, albeit like a creeper, but still. I pretend to browse the racks of lacy lingerie and catch her reaction to being in here. It has piqued my interest.

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