Page 6 of Stalking in the Holidays

Five

Bonnie

It's not that I didn't want Bryan to come with me. It's that I did want him to come with me—so badly that I feel my feet getting heavier with every bit of distance I put between us.

Why am I so attached to this man already? I kept peeking glances at him all day as he trained his clients. The way his muscles bunched and the way the sweat rolled over his bare chest had me clenching my thighs together like the blushing virgin I am.

Bryan is the hottest man I've ever seen. I don't know how old he is, but he's got to be at least ten years older than me. I’m probably naïve for having a crush on him. He probably looks at me as a silly little girl. Nothing more.

I’ve already invaded the man’s space enough. I don't need to make him feel like he has to go with me everywhere. I don’t need to become that attached to him because I can't stay with him forever, right?

A little ball of dread forms in my stomach at the thought of leaving him, though. But that's what I'm eventually going to have to do. I have to go out on my own and make my own way. I can't let him continue to take care of me, even though he's paying me.

I know that the man didn't have a receptionist before, which means he doesn't really need one. He's just doing this as a favor to me. He's a good guy. That's all.

But what about what he said about what he wants to do to you and how he'll protect you even from himself?

Ribbons of pleasure unfurl inside me when I remember his words and the way he looked at me. I might be inexperienced, but I'm pretty sure that he wants me—at least he did in that moment. Unless I'm reading everything wrong.

I go into the bank to deposit my check, and even though the bank is filled with people, I keep glancing over my shoulder. I have the unsettling feeling that I'm being watched, which is ridiculous because there are probably lots of people glancing at me as they wait in line for their turn with the teller. I'm just paranoid and jumpy from yesterday, I tell myself.

Still, that feeling doesn't go away when I leave the bank and hurry along the sidewalk on my way back to Bryan's gym.

Right before I get back to Bryan's place, I feel myself yanked into an alley. Panic seizes me. A scream bubbles up in my throat, but a hand wraps over my mouth from behind. Then, I hear a voice that chills me to my bones rasp directly into my ear, “Scream and I'll slit your ungrateful little throat right here.”

I don't feel a blade pressed to my throat, but I wouldn't put anything past my stepdad. He's probably got one on him.

I'm trembling by the time he turns me around, and I look up into his angry eyes.

“After everything I've done for you,” he snarls at me. “I took care of you after your mother died. Fed you, clothed you, and for what? You just run off like that without a word? You've had me worried sick.”

“Get your hands off me!” I hate the way my voice comes out wobbly and weak-sounding, but apparently, my stepdad loves it because his eyes take on a delighted gleam.

I feel like gagging when I feel him press his hardness against my stomach. He leans in and inhales deeply like he's breathing in the scent of my hair while I struggle against his hold.

I'm considering if there's any way I can knee him in the balls long enough for me to get away when he’s suddenly yanked back from me and flung against the side of the building.

I gasp in relief when I see Bryan's big form towering over my stepdad like a vengeful Hulk. “Don't you ever put your fucking hands on her again!” He snarls down at my stepdad.

“Who the fuck are you?” My stepdad spits, but Bryan silences him with an expertly placed punch in the nose.

Blood gushes from my stepdad’s nose as he falls to the ground wailing in pain. “That was your only warning. Next time you come near her, I'll obliterate you, and they'll never find what's left of you. Get out of here.” Bryan nods his head toward the street, and surprisingly, my stepdad listens. He doesn't say another word. He doesn't even look at me as he hobbles out of the alleyway.

My back is still pressed against the wall, and I'm still trembling when Bryan turns his fearsome gaze on me. The storms in his eyes abate. His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You're scared to death, sweet baby,” his voice is gruff as he starts walking over to me.

Something within me breaks when he calls me “baby.” I go running to him and lunge, throwing myself into his arms.

He catches me, and I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold on for dear life, pressing my face against his neck as the sobs overtake me.

He strokes my back soothingly and murmurs words of comfort into my ear. “I'm here, princess. Everything's going to be okay. He's never going to hurt you again. I'm so sorry he touched you. I'm sorry, baby.”

His voice sounds tortured, and when I finally pull my head back enough to look up at him, we're already back inside his gym. He's carrying us up the stairs to his apartment, and I swallow. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved me. How did you know? How did you get there?”

“I followed you to the bank,” he answers immediately. “There was no way I was going to let you go out alone after the way I found you last night.” His eyes are grave as he regards me.

I know that maybe I should be pissed that he followed me without my consent, but all I can feel is relief.

“Stalker,” I smile up at him. His eyes soften again, but he doesn't smile. Instead, his voice is serious when he tells me, “Yes, Bonnie. I'm going to stalk you till the end of time. You're never going to go anywhere without me again. If you don't want me there beside you, I'll be behind you. Because I'll be damned if I let some fucker put his hands on you ever again.”

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