Page 31 of Pivot Point

“This isn’t a game, Lou.”

I set off next to him, matching his swift stride even with my shorter legs. “I know. And it’s time my stalker found that out too.”

We hustled back to the apartment building at a measured jog, Rafael scanning the street ahead as we went. I peered around us too, but I had no idea what I should be looking for. It wasn’t as if the psychopath was going to show up draped with his bloody idea of presents.

Just as the building’s brick face came into view up ahead, an unnervingly familiar figure ducked out from the entrance. I didn’t get a glimpse of the guy’s face amid his clothes, but he had on a cap with the brim tipped low and a baggy coat with the collar turned up, just like Rafael had mentioned when describing the man he’d seen in the security footage two nights ago.

Rafael obviously made the same connection. He swore under his breath and paused while the figure veered in the opposite direction from us.

He motioned toward the building. “Stick your duffel in the lobby so you’re more mobile and let’s keep on this motherfucker’s trail.”

I darted inside, shoved my bag into a corner, and rushed out, falling into step beside Rafael when he immediately started walking. He moved slower this time so we’d keep a safe distance from our target.

“Too many bystanders to tackle him out in the open like this,” he muttered to me. All kinds of regular pedestrians were strolling along the sidewalks around us through the waning evening light. “We wait until he goes off the beaten path, and then we strike.”

I nodded silently, my lungs constricting in anticipation. The man who’d been messing with me for weeks was finally right in front of me. I longed to sprint right after him and slam my fist into the back of his head, knocking off that stupid cap, but then we’d look like the aggressors to everyone watching.

We needed a little privacy to do this right.

Instead, I studied everything I could see of the guy from where we were trailing half a block behind. The tan coat fell to his thighs, the rest of him covered by dark baggy jeans and large tan boots. Like Rafael had said before, it was impossible to get a good read on his body type with that outfit.

I flexed my fingers with their heavy rings. What kind of fighter would he be? Was he carrying any weapons?

Well, if need be, I’d start by kicking him in the balls. That worked with just about anyone.

We’d only followed him for a few blocks when he swerved abruptly to the doorway of a large chain clothing store. As soon as he’d disappeared inside, Rafael motioned to me.

“We can’t grab him in there either, but we might be able to get a look at his face and ID him. And we don’t want to lose track of him if he tries to slip out the back.”

We loped the rest of the way to the store and stepped in after our target. For a second, my gaze skimming over the other customers, my nerves jittered with the thought that we’d lost him.

Then I spotted his blue cap at the far end of the first floor, beyond several clusters of clothing racks. I snatched Rafael’s hand. “Let’s go!”

“Better idea.” Rafael steered me in a roundabout route that took the guy out of our line of sight for a few seconds.

My heart pounded faster. “But—”

“Here.”

My bodyguard had drawn up next to a shelving unit that rose from floor to ceiling, a checkerboard of open squares. Over the top of a stack of folded jeans, I realized we had a perfect line of sight to my stalker.

But he couldn’t see us watching him. As I stared, he turned toward the front of the store, clearly checking for someone.

For us. He’d realized we were following him, and this was some kind of gambit.

But none of that mattered when I was now getting my first clear look at his face.

Tufts of blond hair showed beneath the cap, topping a pasty face with a hooked nose and a speckling of acne scars. His jawline was still hidden by his coat collar, but I made out a brutal-looking slash of a mouth that set off alarm bells in my head.

This was my psycho stalker. And I had no ideawhohe was.

“I’ve never seen this asshole before in my life,” I whispered to Rafael, and then noticed my bodyguard’s expression.

Rafael’s gaze had hardened, his muscular shoulders tensed and his jaw taut. “Of all the bad fucking luck,” he growled under his breath.

“What? You know him?”

Rafael didn’t answer, only pushed forward. Was he going to confront the lunatic right here in the store after all?

---