Page 92 of Stalkers Anonymous

Really, the easiest, fastest way to deal with this is by going inside, securing the window, and leaving. The police don’t need to know, and neither does Hailey. I can fix the problem without creating new issues—a win all around, though I doubt Tyler or Tracey would agree.

I slip through the window and into her dark apartment.

I do what I can to repair the broken lock, but it’s going to need a more permanent fix. The front window is still shattered, but it’s taped over to keep some of the chill out. It’s too high up to reach without a ladder, and I don’t think Winters is bold enough to show up here with one.

Only when I’m certain every other window is locked do I return to my car, leaving through the front door and securing it with the smart-lock app I’ve downloaded to my phone.

My phone buzzes with an email notification as I’m driving away.

FROM: [email protected]

TO: [email protected]

SUBJECT: Missed Group Session

Cole,

I noticed you weren’t at tonight’s meeting. While I understand that recovery can be challenging and setbacks are normal, regular attendance is crucial for your work-mandated program compliance.

I’ll allow this absence as a one-time exception, but you’ll need to make up for the missed session by extending your program participation by one week. Please confirm you’ll be at next Tuesday’s meeting.

Remember, recovery requires consistency and accountability. The group is here to support you, but we can only help if you show up.

Best regards,

Tracey Doyle, LCSW

I delete the email without responding.

Fuck her and fuck IBSG.

Tonight I prevented an actual break-in. While Tracey and the group sat in a circle talking about feelings and triggers, I did something meaningful. The real predators are out here, prowling the fucking streets.

I go back to my car, then drive closer to the hospital, where I can observe who goes in and out of the parking garage. I’ve been parked there every night she’s worked since I started protecting her from the monster known as Lars Winters. The sleep deprivation is catching up with me—three hours a night for the past few days, the rest of my waking hours spent obsessing over where Hailey and Lars are at all times, all while maintaining a totally normal facade at work. If Jack knew what I’ve been up to…

But I can’t stop. Every time I close my eyes, I see what could happen if I stop watching. I see Emma, broken and bruised in a hospital bed.

At 3:50 a.m., exhaustion finally forces me to drive home. I fall into a restless sleep that’s interrupted every few hours by the need to check the monitoring application.

I’m protecting her.

I drift in and out of light sleep, the laptop open beside me, alerts configured to wake me if Winters moves.

I’m protecting her.

Even if she never knows it and might hate me for it if she did. It may destroy whatever chance we might have at something real and healthy, but it’s a risk I have to take to keep her safe.

As dawn breaks through my bedroom window, I wake from a restless doze to the sound of my phone buzzing. It’s not an alert, but a text message.

Hailey: Good morning! Just got off work. Thank you for letting me crash at your place last night. I appreciate it more than you know.

I stare at the message for a long time before responding. She has no idea how much of the night I’ve spent thinking about her. Obsessing over preserving her happiness. Losing sleep to keep her safe.

Cole: Good morning, beautiful. I’d love to see that gorgeous smile later today if you’ll let me.

I’ll make sure she never stops smiling. No matter what it costs me.

Chapter Twenty-One: Hailey