Page 210 of Texting Dr. Stalker

Colourful bruises marred her nape from where I’d held on while riding her. A few scratches down her spine. A hand sized bruise on her hip from where I’d held her in place.

I almost threw up.

It took all my strength to inch slowly away instead of tearing myself off her with aversion. I trembled with self-hatred as more bruises appeared along her stunning body.

From me.

I did that.

Like him.

She frowned in her dreams as I kneeled above her. She shivered and curled up tighter as if feeling the cold.

Grabbing the blanket folded against the wall, I carefully draped it over her all while crawling farther away.

Too many bruises decorated her.

Bruises so similar to the ones she’d presented with in the ER. Sure, she didn’t have ligature marks or hematomas like that bastard had left her with, but I’d marked her, injured her, and caused physical harm all because I’d lost control and been the worst version of myself.

Fuck.

Launching to my feet, I grabbed my trousers and yanked them on. I didn’t bother finding my t-shirt amongst the rubble of clothing.

This stunning, amazing girl had introduced me to a number of my limits and now she’d just shoved me into the final one.

This was my ultimate line.

I’d made a vow.

Thou shalt do no harm.

And I’d crossed it.

I would never forgive myself. I’d been raised better than this. Gran would be so disappointed in me.

With rage directed entirely at myself and agony breaking me apart, I made sure I had my wallet, snatched up my boots, and took one last look at the damaged angel on the floor.

Then fled out the back door.

* * * * *

“’Sup?”

I swayed from the kitchen, focusing way harder than normal just to do a simple task like walking. I still managed to trip over the tiled lip on the threshold leading into the conservatory.

Stupid whiskey.

“’Sup?” Colin yawned in my ear. “Who are you and what did you do with my friend?”

“Killed him off. That’s what.” I swallowed hard.Why is the room spinning?“He’s gone.”

“If you’re calling to make me become an accessory to murder, I have to tell you, my limit is aiding and abetting stalking. That’s as far as I’m willing to go in this friendship.” He snickered, thinking he was funny. “Why are you calling me at ten p.m.? I thought you’d be gallivanting around town, enjoying your few days off. Or better yet, in bed with a certain neighbour.”

I groaned and collapsed into one of the rattan chairs that Gran used to love to knit in. The wind chimes hung above, silent in the still air. If they suddenly started singing, I was going to freak the fuck out.

The incident in Sailor’s kitchen still sent goosebumps down my spine.

I’d never believed in the supernatural. I was a man of science not superstition, but I had no explanation for what happened over there.

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