Page 182 of Love Me Stalk Me
I never told him my fucking Social. But before I can read the full contents, another alert pulls my attention away.
A notification, but it’s not from my inbox, it’s from Izzy’s phone, appearing on my screen.
It’s Evan. Calling again.
Rage curls deep inside of me as I watch it ring. Watch it go to voicemail. It takes a moment and then the transcript loads, and what I see makes my vision go black with rage.
You think you're fucking safe now? You think you can just walk away from me? I gave you years, Izzy. You owe me. You're mine. And if you think some fucking guy is going to protect you from me, you're wrong. He won't always be watching you, sweetheart. He won't always be there. And when he's not, I will.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. My grip on the phone tightens, white-knuckled.
This motherfucker. This walking corpse.
Because that's what Evan is now. He just doesn't know it yet.
It takes every single ounce of control I have not to get up, grab my keys, and drive straight to his apartment. Because men like him only understand one language: violence. Pain. A lesson taught in blood.
And normally? Normally, I'd be more measured. I'd be calculated, strategic, restrained.
But this? Izzy? She's not normal to me. She's everything. And for her, I'm willing to become someone else entirely.
I've taken lives before. Each one weighs on me differently. Some of them I still see in my sleep. Some of them I regret. Some of them I don't. But this? This is the first time I'm certain?—
If I put a bullet in Evan's head, I wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it. But that's not my choice to make. Not yet. I can't do something that would haunt her forever. Because if it were up to me, he'd already be rotting.
I inhale, exhale. Forcing myself to breathe. Forcing myself to be calm.
I click off the phone when Izzy stirs. Her body shifts, pressing closer to me, her breath warm against my skin. She blinks up at me, still soft with sleep, hair a mess, eyes hazy.
She smiles, and fuck me, I'd give anything to wake up to her for the rest of my life.
"What time is it?" she murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
I glance at the clock. "Almost six."
She stretches, sighing against me. "Did you sleep?"
I brush my fingers down her back. "A little."
The truth. Because even with my mind spinning, my body wired, the ghost of Evan's actions making my blood run hot, I still managed to sleep a little. Because of her. Because she’s tuckedagainst me, soft and steady, exactly where she’s meant to be. She tilts her head back, peering up at me.
"What do you want to do today?"
I know exactly what I want to do. Stay in bed with her. Make her come until she forgets her own name. Keep her here, wrapped around me, locked in this bubble where the outside world doesn't exist.
But instead, I sigh. Because that's not an option.
"I have to go to the store for a meeting," I say, voice edged with regret.
Her nose scrunches slightly. "On a Saturday?"
I nod. "Gotta patch a security hole."
Because when I'm not here, when I'm not watching her, I need to make damn sure the place she spends most of her time is fucking locked down. And until I figure out what the hell Evan's been up to, where his money is coming from, and why the fuck he's still trying to keep his grip on Izzy when he clearly has women on the side—I need to be prepared. For anything.
Izzy nods, her fingers lightly tracing patterns over my chest, small and absentminded but enough to make my skin tingle.
"I should go visit Amanda," she murmurs. "She's been really worried."
