Page 23 of Done Waiting

My lips move to the shell of her ear. “I’m always with you, baby girl. You belong to me.”

I pull back, studying her face. Her voice is a wistful sigh, a light breeze on a hot summer day. “Yes. I’m yours.”

Fuck.My dick is harder than a damn rock, and my heart bangs like a drum inside my chest cavity. “And I’m all yours, baby girl.”

I stay that like, breathing her in, memorizing every single detail of her face. She peacefully sleeps on, blissfully unaware of the monster she created. She fanned my burning obsession for her, causing the flames to grow and leap into an inferno.

There’s nothing holding me back, baby girl. You’re fucking mine. You’ve given me the green light and I’ll do anything and everything to get you where I want you.

Her arms slowly fall from my neck before she rolls onto her side. Reaching over, I lightly push the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Placing the note and the flower I plucked from the rose bush in her yard on the nightstand beside her phone, I give her one final look. “We can’t keep meeting like this, baby girl. It’s too risky. But don’t worry, I’m not leaving you.” My fingers reach down, lightly tracing the curve of her cheek. “I’m always with you. Always watching you until the right moment.” Puffing out an exhilarated sigh, a grin pulls up my lips. “Then I’ll have you right where I want you.”

I’m desperate to kiss her lush, plump lips, but I know better. I won’t be able to control myself if I do.

“See you soon, baby girl.” Pressing my lips to her cheek lightly, I close my eyes, inhaling her honey and vanilla scent.

Then I straighten, climb out her window, and disappear into the night.

10

MADISON

“Ican handle it Daya. Please, you and your husband go home with your baby. I’ve closed the bookstore before.” Giving my boss, Daya, a reassuring smile, I point at the front door. “Go.”

Daya laughs. “When did you get so bossy, Maddie?” She turns and watches her husband go to the door, waiting for her. “Okay, fine.” Holding her hands up, she says, “But call if you need anything, okay?”

“I promise. But I won’t need anything. Now go home.”

I watch them leave, then head to the restroom. For some reason, the image of the girl, Katie, and the posters I saw in the woods a few days ago won’t leave my head. I mentioned it to Ben when I returned home to our apartment, and he mentioned they were plastered all over campus since Katie is a student there. Ben threw me a worried look and asked if I was being safe when I went for a run in the woods. I assured him I was.

It's weird being at the apartment with him and Chloe. Things are strained as hell with Chloe after I confronted her about not checking on me while I stayed at my mom’s house. She claimedshe was giving me time to grieve and said she figured I’d text her if I was in the mood to talk.

Every time Ben and Chloe are in the same room together, I analyze every interaction and word spoken. There isn’t any difference in their interactions when I’m overtly watching, But I’ve seen the sidelong looks from Chloe when I’m watching her from my peripheral vision. I’ve caught her looking at Ben with longing in her eyes. It makes me feel guilty because it’s what I imagined I looked like when I sat in the tree in my mom’s backyard, thinking about Mr. Dimple, which is my new nickname for the hot stalker in the hoodie and leather jacket.

As I return to the register, I still, my eyes land on a newspaper lying on top of my purse. My brow wrinkles, my gaze darting around the store, but it’s empty.

Swallowing hard, my mouth is dry as I slowly approach it. Circled in black Sharpie is a front-page article entitled “Killer in Falls Creek.” My hands shake as I lift the newspaper, reading over the article. Two days ago, Katie Michaels’ body was found in the woods nestled behind Falls Creek College. She had been sexually assaulted and strangled. What’s worse, Katie is the fourth victim found violated and killed in this manner, all of them found in the woods behind campus.

It feels like the hand of the grim reaper trails over my spine as I read the next words. “All the victims have been between the ages of eighteen and twenty years old, with blonde hair and brown eyes.”

Clamping my hand over my mouth, I try to keep the contents of my lunch inside my stomach.I’m nineteen, blonde, with brown eyes.

My only consolation is that I don’t attend Falls Creek College.

Cutting out the article, I toss the rest of the newspaper away. My eyes keep darting around the shop and to the windows, expecting to see someone lurking outside. But no one is there.

Stop it, Maddie. Everything is fine.

But I don’t feel fine as I pace in front of the register, my eyes searching for the culprit who laid the newspaper on my purse.

Someone was in here while I was in the restroom.

Even though I don’t see him, my thoughts instantly go to the guy who left me the roses.Could he be the one doing this?

Pulling my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, I snap a photo of the newspaper article and then text it to Ben with the words, “Did you hear about this?”

He texts me back about five minutes later, saying he did.

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