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Did I lay it on too thick too soon? I can’t help it; I enjoy watching her squirm.
She tries to hide the blush that colors her cheeks but fails miserably. I chuckle softly as she scans the box and taps some keys on the register. “That will be $2.50. Have you rented with us before?”
I allow the corner of my mouth to lift, purposefully showing off a dimple. “Yep. I have a card and everything,” I say, fishing it out of my wallet and handing it to her, along with the exact change.
She explains the store policy, as is mandatory for this chain. There’s no denying that she’s attractive. Even with her chipped nails she has a bad habit of picking at when she’s stressed. The shadowed bags under her beautiful green eyes that peek through the concealer. Her voice—damn. I could stand here and listen to her talk for the entire day.
She bags up the tape, slips the receipt inside, and hands it to me. “Enjoy your movie, Blake.”
I chuckle again. “I will, Mia. Congrats on the job,” I say, shooting Brian a pointed frown over my shoulder as I exit the store.
I get into my car, start the engine, and lean back in my seat. I want to destroy Gwen, but I also want to protect her. She makes me want to be soft. I want to run my hands through her hair and press gentle kisses on every inch of her flesh. I want to mark that same flesh—tear it up, scar it, turn the sheets red.
I want her to be by my side. Shemustbe by my side. I will accept nothing less.
I’m going to make her mine—andonlymine—one way or another.
No matter what it takes.
Chapter
Four
HER
With my Discman clipped to my waistband and my headphones on, I head into the park. Even though I have work later, I’m determined to get in my exercise. I learned early on—especially after my father was locked up—that I become antsy if I don’t run. But I suppose it all truly started when that prick Richard got a little too handsy …
I pack away the memory and start a slow jog. Normally, I do my runs in the morning. But I needed the extra sleep so I can begin adjusting to my new work schedule—which I have to thank the cute neighbor guy for. If it wasn’t for his quick improvisation, I’d be stuck casting my employment net in another town miles away.
Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of Blake yet. Obviously, he’s cute and seems nice enough. But I’m also hesitant to get involved with someone so soon again. Past hurt makes me uncertain about putting myself out there again. Especially after what happened in Vermont …For now, I’m just going to enjoy getting to know him.
I jog along the winding path through the park, basking in the warm sun on my face. Although it’s the afternoon, the park is mostly deserted, with only a few other people out and about. I turn up the volume of the music and feel my worries melt away, at least temporarily. Gradually, I pick up the pace until I’m running at a comfortable, even speed, my heart pounding and my lungs burning. But I don’t care. I feel alive.
I run past the playground where a couple of kids are playing. They look so carefree, and for a moment, I envy them. I wish I could go back to a time when the biggest decision of the day was conquering the monkey bars or braving the tallest slide.
After running for a while, I stop to catch my breath and take a swig of my bottled water, making a note to pick up another tube of sunscreen at the pharmacy. If only I had that damn paycheck.
I run again, this time faster. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, and I feel like I could run forever. But eventually, I reach my limit and find a bench to rest at. As I sit, I take in the sights of the park. More people have filtered in. Couples walk hand-in-hand, a dog chases a squirrel, and teenagers have started to play basketball.
I slip off my headphones, close my eyes, and savor the moment. The birds are singing, the wind rustles through the leaves, and I can hear the distant laughter of children. Dare I say that I almost feel at peace? But that peace is shattered when I hear a twig snap behind me.
I open my eyes and steal a glimpse over my shoulder. In the corner of my eye, I think I see a figure standing in the shadows of the trees before it darts into hiding. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out any details. “Hello?” I call out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Is anyone there?”
No answer.
Slowly, I rise to my feet, my eyes never leaving the tree line. “Who are you? What do you want?” Yet again, silence is my reply. Part of me feels foolish, like my paranoia has gotten out of control—especially since that news report. I scan the area, but no one else seems to have noticed anything.
I swallow to regain my composure and switch off my music. Despite not finishing my run, I decide to head home. Clutching the water bottle tightly, I make a beeline for the park exit. As I approach my car, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
The moment I slide into the driver’s seat, I lock the door and look around for anything suspicious. I heave a sigh, seeing nothing. But my heart still races, thumping against my ribs as I start the engine. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see no one following me.
As I drive away from the park, uneasiness clings to my senses like sludge. I try to convince myself that I’m losing it, that my fear is unfounded. But I know more than anyone that there are monsters among men.
And many hide in plain sight.
I return home and take a shower. I’m exhausted, the stress of anxiety sapping my reserves. After toweling off and putting on some comfy clothes, I turn on the TV and lay on the couch. I can’t stop thinking about what happened at the park. Who would follow me, anyway? And why? My father’s arrest led to me being bullied and harassed at school. But other than the vultures—journalists—I really don’t have the energy to ponder the possibilities.
My eyes slip closed. I fall into a fretful sleep filled with nightmares of being chased in the apartment. I can’t see the person’s face, but I know they’re trying to hurt me. They tackle me, lift a sharp blade above their head, and?—
