Page 114 of Hunting Pretty

My stalker stood by the side of my bed and looked down at me.

He brushed aside the strands sticking to my sweaty forehead.

In that moment of pain, relief came over me.

The pills.

They were painkillers. Not some kind of poison.

He was… he was taking care of me.

When he turned to leave once more, a pang of apprehension struck me.

“Wait,” I gasped.

He hesitated.

“Please,” I whispered. “Stay?”

I know how stupid that sounded. I was begging mystalkerto stay with me.

But in that moment, he wasn’t my stalker. He wasn’t my tormentor. He wasn’t the dangerous man who’d cut out my ex’s eye. Or the one who had killed my attacker.

He was the man who looked after me. Who’d had saved me. He’d come to my side when I thought I was alone. Shown me a kindness I hadn’t even dared to hope for.

I swallowed heavily, heart beating erratically. “This house is so large. And I’m always… alone.”

He didn’t move for the longest moment.

Then he stepped back toward the edge of my bed.

I didn’t dare breathe as he lifted the sheets and climbed into bed next to me.

His warmth enclosed around me and I shuddered against him.

I felt warm. And safe.

I could hear him breathing in the still bedroom, could feel the way his breath expanded his ribs against my back. I slowed my own breath down, timing it with his.

It calmed me the way watching waves on a foggy morning shore calmed me.

We were the only two in the entire house, but I did not feel alone anymore.

“Thank you,” I said.

I wanted to turn around to face him, but I restrained myself.

He tucked an arm around me, sliding it gently under my fingers so he could press the hot water bottle to my belly.

The warmth seeped into me, making my tense muscles finally unclench. I let out a slow, shaky breath as I sank deeper into the bed, feeling his body close to mine, steady and solid.

God, what is happening?I was curled up in bed with my stalker. The man who had haunted my every move. The man I should have feared. But here I was, and the strangest part was—I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to pull away.

For the first time, this cold, impersonal room didn’t feel so empty. The shadows in the corners seemed to retreat, replaced by a warmth that I hadn’t even realized I was missing.

And this house—this large, lonely place that never felt like home—it suddenly felt… full.

I couldn’t explain it, and I didn’t want to. All I knew was that, right here, wrapped in his quiet strength, I felt safe.

---