Page 75 of Stalkers Anonymous

The suggestion makes sense, but most of my friends work day shifts and are already asleep. Rachel lives across town and has an overtime shift tomorrow. My parents are fifteen hundred miles away, and I’m not convinced they wouldn’t dismiss this situation as another overblown response.

When security returns, they escort me to my car in the parking garage, but I still find myself checking shadows between parking spots and listening for footsteps.

One name keeps surfacing in my mind: Cole.

It’s ridiculous, really. We barely know each other. Bothering him with this so soon after our date seems like the kind of red flag that would send most men running.

But he’s not most men.

I keep thinking about his calm demeanor and how much I need someone to ground me right now. More than that, there was something…in him yesterday. He felt protective without being possessive, like he’d be here in a heartbeat if I called.

I sit in my car for several minutes with the engine running and the doors locked, trying to decide between going to my potentially dangerous apartment alone or reaching out to someone I hardly know for help.

Finally, I pull out my phone and scroll to Cole’s number before I lose my nerve. My hands are shaking slightly as I press call, and I almost hang up before he answers.

“Hailey?” His voice is alert despite the late hour. “Is everything okay?”

The concern in his tone nearly undoes me. “Hi. I’m sorry to call so late. Lars Winters was at the hospital tonight.” I take a shaky breath, fighting back tears. “He made it clear he knows a lot of personal information about me. He basically admitted he’s been stalking me for quite some time. I’m honestly pretty shaken, and I don’t want to go home right now. I’m scared, Cole.” My voice cracks at the confession, and hot tears start rolling down my face.

There’s a pause, but I immediately sense it’s not because he’s trying to think of an excuse to get off the phone. It’s more like he’s processing the information and trying to figure out what to do.

“Where are you right now?” he asks, his voice sharp.

“In my car at the hospital. They sent me home early because of what happened.”

“Don’t go home,” he says immediately. “Are you safe to drive?”

“Yes, I think so.” My heart rate jumps with his urgency, making me sit straighter in my seat and take another glance around the parking garage. I dry my tears with my jacket sleeve.

“Can you meet me somewhere? Magnolia Joe’s is probably closed, but there’s a twenty-four-hour diner on College Avenue—Murphy’s. Do you know it?”

“I can find it.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Drive carefully, and call me if anything feels wrong on the way, okay?”

The immediate shift into protective mode makes me want to cry even more. He cares. “Are you sure? It’s late and this is a lot to dump on you.”

“Hailey,” he says firmly, “I’m sure. Someone threatened you. That’s serious.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, meaning it more than I’ve ever meant anything.

“See you in ten minutes. Drive safe.”

The line goes dead, and I’m alone again.

I sit there for a moment, phone still pressed to my ear even though there’s no one on the other end. The parking garage is silent except for the hum of my engine and the distant echo of a car door closing somewhere far away.

Ten minutes. Cole will be there in ten minutes.

I should start driving.

But my hands won’t move from my lap. My body feels disconnected from my brain, like the signals aren’t quite reaching their destinations. I know I need to put the car in reverse. I know I need to get out of this garage, away from this hospital, away from this place.

I love that you leave your bedroom window cracked open when you sleep.

The thought hits me all over again, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing.

He’s been outside my apartment. While I was sleeping.