Page 6 of Stalked By the Navy Seal

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he says, narrowing his eyes on me. “Why would your stepfather get physical with you that way?”

“You mean this time?”

I watch his jaw tense and a dangerous look cross his eyes. “You mean he puts his hands on you often?”

“Every chance he gets, but this time around, he’s angry because I messed up his plan.”

“What plan?”

“His plan to repay his gambling debts by giving me as payment to Deadeye Dante, a well-known vicious loan shark coming into town tomorrow.”

I see a brief look of disbelief cross his face before it quickly vanishes. “And you didn’t go to the cops, why?”

I scoff. “And tell them what? That the former sheriff has gambling problems and wants to hand over his stepdaughter to a psychopath as payment for his debt? You witnessed him beat me, and you still don’t believe me. Do you really think they would?”

“Your step father was a cop?”

“Yes, a well-respected one, as he always loves to remind me, which means he can get away with literally anything, which is why I went to grab a few essentials from the grocery store tonight. I need to get out of here before morning. I can’t be in this town or anywhere close by when Dante gets here tomorrow. I won’t be able to escape if his men and the cops are out searching for me.”

“So that’s why you stole from me? To escape your stepfather.”

Forgetting I’ve been badly bruised, I spring up from the bed and crawl away from the tattooed man, my eyes wide from terror. “You’re the briefcase owner I took the money from?”

He gives me a slight nod. “Ya, I am.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt me. I’ve only spent a few hundred dollars from it. It’s all in the closet; you can have it back. Just please don’t report me to the police or hurt me.”

“I would never hurt you.” There’s almost an unbearable pain in his voice when he says that. “I could never hurt you. And if I wanted to involve the police, don’t you think you’d be in jail already instead of here with me putting ice on your bruises?”

“W–w–hy?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you helping me? Why are you being so nice to me even after I stole from you?”

He fixes his gray eyes on me, and I see a vulnerability in them for the first time since we met. “I don’t know, I just know that from the moment I looked into your eyes and sensed that you were in danger, I’ve had this overwhelming urge to protect you, to keep you safe.”

“So, you’re not going to turn me in to the police?”

“No.”

My eyes dart over to the gun on the table. “And you’re not going to make me pay for stealing from you?”

“God, no. And you were wrong before.” He probably sees the confusion in my eyes because he continues. “Before, when you said I didn’t believe you, you were wrong. I believe you, and I’m going to make sure your stepfather and Deadeye Dante never see or hurt you again.”

In all the twenty-three years of my existence on this earth, I’ve been lied to, cheated on, and abused by men for as long as I can remember. So much so that I have stopped believing anything from their mouths until now. Until this tattooed stranger, who I stole from, showed up when I needed help and saved me.

“So, where did you plan on going?”

His question is one I’ve been asking myself since I walked out of that god-forsaken house two days ago, and I still have no clue. I don’t have any friends or relatives outside Misty River. “Nowhere, anywhere. I didn’t think that far; I just know I need to get out of town before Dante arrives.”

He hands me the ice and stands up, towering above me. “What if I told you that you could have somewhere to go, somewhere you could live, somewhere you’d be safe?”

I squint my eyes in disbelief. “Where?”

“My home. It’s far from here, and it’s a small town like this where everyone looks out for everyone. I can assure you that you’ll be safe there.”

I blink my eyes rapidly to make sure this isn’t one of those dreams or fantasies where I run away from my stepfather and finally regain my freedom. But an at least six-foot-four-inch hunk stands in front of me, his sandalwood scent invading my nostrils and reminding me that I’m wide awake.

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