Page 22 of Texting Dr. Stalker

“Come on then. Moan for me like you moan for him.” His hips pressed against mine, his zipper digging into me. “Why are you crying? Moan!”

Burying my face into my hands, I shook my head. I didn’t want to remember. I liked the foggy forgetfulness that protected me.

“Open your damn legs!” Milton ripped at my underwear. “How many times has he taken what’s mine, huh? How many times have you been that asshole’s slut?”

Falling onto my side, I buried my head in my arms and curled up. I’d almost died, thanks to Milton’s jealousy over a man I’d barely said a hundred words to since I was born. I’d tried to tell him Alexander North meant nothing to me. He was just the grandson of my nana’s best friend. Sure, I’d heard enough stories about him growing up that I felt like I knew him. Sure, he was sweet and wonderful, and Nana loved him just like he was her own, but we didn’t have a relationship. We didn’t even have a friendship.

I’d screamed all of that while Milton tore at my dress and knocked aside my arms as I fought him. But then his hands had gone to my throat, and he’d squeezed so terribly hard.

“I’m the last man you’re ever going to have inside you, do you hear me?” His hiss wriggled like a snake as unconsciousness came for me—

Gasping through my sobs, I sat up and clutched my hair.

He didn’t.

He didn’t rape me.

The hospital did a test, and it showed no evidence of sexual activity. It’d been at least a week since we’d last beenwillinglyintimate.

Jim must’ve stopped him before he…

God, Jim.

It was as if a switch flipped inside me.

My tears dried up. The memories stopped. Jim had saved my sanity and my life that day. The least I could give him was a cake. And tomorrow, I’d bake him something else. And the day after, and the day after. I would drown him in peach desserts all because he’d rescued me from a fate I would never have woken up from.

Sucking in a deep breath, I stood on wobbly legs and washed my face.

I didn’t let a single thought enter my head as I grabbed some apricot-coloured cellophane that Nana used to make gift baskets and set the plate in the middle. Gathering up the sides, I twisted it into a tower, secured the top with a silver ribbon, attached the card I’d written that would never convey my level of gratitude, and strode bravely out the door.

I kept my chin high all the way to the back gate and rehearsed what I would say to Jim, but the moment I stepped into the front garden and looked toward the street, every accusation and agony that Milton had thrown at me screamed back into being.

“You spread them for your neighbour, why not for me?”

Alexander stood with his elbow resting on his letterbox, his emerald eyes covered with dark sunglasses, his black slacks and shirt extra dark in the sun. He’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows and his hair looked as if he’d ruffled it a few times, hinting at his exhaustion and the fact he’d probably just got back from the hospital.

I only ever saw him in jeans and shorts on his days off. All other times, he dressed professionally despite donning scrubs the moment he stepped into work.

“Caught you looking again. How many times have you perved on him, huh?”Milton’s awful voice echoed in my ears.

Guilt spread like wildfire, despite the fact that I’d never done anything wrong. I always made a point to look away if I ever caught sight of Alexander in the window. Our houses were close enough that we could string a rope ladder across our bedrooms and climb through each other’s window, but that didn’t mean I’d ever strayed over the boundary of respect.

“I’m glad Mable is enjoying Evermore Care,” Alexander said, smiling wearily at old Josephine. The woman looked as if she’d fly away in a gentle breeze and clung to her walking stick as an anchor, but her smile lit up her entire weathered face. “Thank you so much for recommending it, Zander dear, and for the personal letter you wrote ensuring she was shuffled up the waiting list. Poor Mable doesn’t have long in this world, but at least her last few months will be comfy.”

“Don’t mention it.” Opening his letterbox, he grabbed a few letters and shifted awkwardly on the spot. His body language screamed he couldn’t wait to get inside and be alone, but the politeness instilled by his grandparents ensured he forced a wider smile and stayed right there talking to her. “How’s Gary enjoying Alaska?”

Josephine grinned from ear to ear, her blue-rinsed hair twinkling in the sun. “Oh, he’s fabulous. Adoring the wild North. Says he’s enjoying his new position putting in something or other.” Shuffling forward, she rested her hand on his arm. “He video called me, isn’t that grand? Showed me his house and everything.” She frowned. “But it’s so sunny and warm that I think he might be pulling my leg. I thought Alaska was meant to be covered in snow?”

Alexander patted her hand on his arm. “They have summers like us, Jo. Very hot ones, I hear, with lots of bugs.”

“Oh dear, I don’t like bugs.”

“Then I suggest you avoid Alaska in the summer.” Squeezing her hand, his chin tipped up and he froze.

My cheeks broke into an inferno as he looked right at me. The tension from talking when he would rather be alone switched into even tighter knots. The envelopes in his hand crinkled as his fingers curled into a fist.

I stood there in my white summer dress, bruises on display, and the curses of the man who put them there screeching in my ears.

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