Page 3 of Stalker's Pet

“Right,” I say, looking out the window. My stepsister teases me whenever she has the opportunity.

“I’ll make sure your car is outside your house in the morning. You’ll need it.”

I nod when he pulls up outside of my house. I don’t want to tell Callum that I need it because I’m still in high school. How lame would that be?

“Let me have your number,” he says casually, but I think my heart stops. He wants my number!? “So I can contact you if I need you.”

“Right,” I say again, wanting to facepalm myself. When I tell him what it is he nods but doesn’t write it down or put it in his phone.

“I’ll text you and let you know where I’ll leave the key.”

“Thanks,” I tell him before opening the door to get out.

Suddenly he reaches out and grabs my wrist. I still at the touch, and our eyes meet.

“Good night, princess.” Once again his voice is so calming and smooth.

“Good night, Callum.”

He releases my wrist, but somehow his touch still lingers.

When I get to the front door, I turn and wave, but I can’t see him through the dark tinted windows of his SUV. I have no clue if he waves back before I slip inside and lock the door behind me.

I’m standing there with my wrist tingling and my heart racing, wondering what the heck just happened.

Chapter Two

CALLUM

She has no idea how long I’ve watched her. Or that I know everything about her.

I first heard the name Tinsley Moore because she had the misfortune of being the daughter of Ruben Moore, one of my targets. I was hired to gather information on his business before killing him, but after my client received the information, they spared his life.

So imagine my surprise when all of a sudden my niece, who doesn’t like anyone, becomes best friends with the one and only Tinsley Moore.

I knew that Ruben relocated his family after the investigation, but now I have a sneaking suspicion that he moved them here for a reason. Could that reason be to target my niece in order to get to me?

The person that hired me to kill Ruben is a high-ranking official in the CIA. When I get a call with a name and instructions, I don’t ask a lot of questions. It’s part of my job as a hired mercenary to do what I’m told and not ask questions. Before my brother and his wife died, I didn’t have to worry about my actions potentially hurting anyone else. Now that I have Charlie, I can’t take anything as a coincidence. If he’s enrolled his daughter in the same private school as my niece, then there must be a reason.

When I saw Charlie and Tinsley together, part of me wanted to interfere and protect my niece. But I realized that making her run away from the only life she knew wasn’t fair. Especially when she was falling in love with the retired NFL player they hired as the interim head coach.

I knew better than anyone that there would be signs before a threat was real, so I decided to gather all the information I could and keep a close eye on Tinsley. She could have been sent to get close to Charlie. Or worse, do something to hurt her.

In the beginning, I only followed her to see what she was up to. After watching her every move, I began to get closer. Eventually I went into the coffee shop with her but still tried to keep my distance.

The longer I watched her, the more my feelings of unease faded. And as the unease faded, obsession took its place.

She’s too young for me. Far, far too young. She’s the same age as my niece and barely legal. I’m close to the same age as her father, and I’m not a good man. I’ve got blood on my hands that will never wash away, and my soul is marred with my dark deeds. She’s bright like a spring afternoon with pretty, soft edges and the voice of an angel. She’s so pure it almost hurts to look at her, but somehow I can’t stop.

Last night I crossed the invisible line I made for myself. I told myself never to engage with her, never make contact, and certainly never touch her. But then I disabled her car and threw all those rules out the window. I wanted her to rely on me and in turn trust me.

I put her car back together and delivered it to her house an hour after I dropped her off. Complete with a tracker under the bumper. After that, I texted her to tell her where the key was, and she thanked me again.

She said she wanted to repay me with coffee, but I know it’s a bad idea. I saw the way she looked at me, and with Ruben Moore as her father, it’s clear she’s got daddy issues. My fingers still tingle from where they touched her, so yeah, it’s a bad idea.

So why am I sitting in this coffee shop waiting for her? Because I want her.

“Black coffee?” the barista asks before I order, and I nod.

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