Stalker by Lena Little
1
Sebastian
Who is she?
I bend down, pretending to tie my shoe, allowing my narrowing eyes time to rake up and down her smooth skin. God, she’s perfect. But what is she doing out here standing in front of a bus stop all alone at this hour of the night?
I untie and tie my shoelace again, something a hitman would never need to do in real life. It’s attention to detail that makes me who I am, and right now every detail, everything about her, has my undivided attention.
The airbrakes of the approaching bus hiss and the double doors come flying open. The beautiful brunette climbs up the first step, smiling at the driver and moving toward a seat near the front of the bus.
Without thinking, I tug my cap down over my eyes and step forward out of the shadows, stepping onto the bus just as the doors are closing. “Barely made it, sir. Last bus for the night too,” the driver informs.
I nod, keeping my head down and being careful not to make eye contact with anyone as I find a seat a few rows back and over from this girl who is doing things to me no other woman ever has.
Squirming in my seat, I grip the seam of one of my pant legs and pull it down and away from my thigh, then do the same with the other. It’s no use. The fabric stays bunched up around my groin, my cock fighting to break free of the denim prison that’s struggling to contain me, to keep me away from her.
My right foot taps on the floorboards while the fingers of my left hand cascade over my thigh. I can’t hold still. Can’t concentrate. All I can think about is her.
With the same youthful smile affixed to her face as when she boarded the bus, she reaches into her book bag and pulls out an Amazon Kindle. A second later her entire expression changes as she begins reading, her mind entering a whole different world. The transformation is a sight to behold, like a butterfly regressing into a cocoon.
My heart rate spikes as she flips her auburn hair over her shoulder, a portion of it cascading down the seat and positioning itself in front of the man who’s sitting behind her. He looks at her hair a little too long causing my fingers to dig into my palms as I form two fists, if that prick so much as thinks about leaning in and smelling her scent, taking a single strand of her hair, or if his face telegraphs that he might be thinking anything about her in any way other than leaving her the fuck alone I’ll knock him the fuck out.
Wisely he goes back to looking out the window and I resume wondering where this girl is going.
Completely losing track of time my body jerks when she stuffs her Kindle in her bookbag and jumps out of her seat. “I’m coming,” she says.
“Reading again?” the driver smiles and she returns it, sending a spark of jealousy through me. “Good night, Sophia.”
Sophia. That’s her name. I don’t even bother putting it in my phone because it’s etched onto my brain forever.
“Good night, Rex,” she calls to him, but my mind only hears her angelic tone sing, “Good night, Sebastian.” Mind control is everything in my line of work as a hitman, and it can be used in more ways than one. The bottom line is it’s always used to get what I want. And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than her.
I slowly slide from my seat and exit the bus after her, a weird thing considering it looks like I forgot my own stop too. The bus driver makes no mention of it, and when a couple more guys get off behind me, it helps me fit right in.
Moving swiftly from the stop I cross the street, seeing her reflection in an oversized shop window in the concrete jungle. She thinks I’m going in the complete opposite direction. Good, my misdirection worked and as soon as I see her head down an alley I circle back and follow her, my treadless buffalo moccasins not making a sound in the night.
But my snarl does. Why is she walking down a semi-lit alley by herself? Who’s her father? And does he realize I’m about to pay his ass an unexpected visit and tell him in no uncertain terms he needs to do a much, much, much better job of keeping the jewel of a daughter he has safe.
I shake my head and stay close to the wall, watching her body move as I match my steps to the cadence of hers.
Suddenly she stops and looks back over her shoulder. I jerk my body back, flattening it to the bricks that line the alley, and after a second passes she resumes her walking, picking up the pace.
Not three seconds later two guys jump out of a perpendicular alley and immediately I identify them as the two guys who got off at the same stop as us.
“Give us the bookbag, bitch!” one orders, pointing a knife at her.
“We’ve been watching you for a week. We know you’ve got electronics in there. Hand it over and nobody gets hurt.”
Her body jerks away in fear and my stomach rolls, never feeling so upset in my entire life, so inadequate as if I let someone down. I could have stopped this before it even happened, but there’s no looking back now. Only the time to make it right the only way I know how.
“Hurt?” I snarl, dropping my voice an octave lower, a gravely threat as one man grabs her bookbag and yanks it from her shoulder while the other turns his knife in my direction.
“Who’s there? Show your face, pussy.”
“You signed your own death warrants when you pulled a weapon on a woman.”
Diving out of the shadows I tackle the man with the knife, the blade flying as his head hits the concrete, knocking him out instantly. I jump up and deck the second man in the face, driving my fist into his mouth until a tooth pops out and lands on the cold concrete.
Something inside me snaps and I can’t stop, needing her to know she’s never going to have to worry about anything like this ever happening again.
A full minute later I drop the other man, his body falling bonelessly on top of his friend. My chest heaving, I turn back to the girl…and she’s gone.
“Fuck!” I grunt. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
She’s gone and so is her bookbag. No way she’ll ever take that bus again, which means the odds of me seeing her again are just as minimal.
It doesn’t matter. I will find her. “Sophia,” I say under my breath, her name the sweetest sound in the world.
Pacing back and forth in the alley, I run my hand through my hair and try and think of a way to find her in a city of this size. I don’t have much to go by, but I’ll do it.
I look down at the two lifeless bodies and realize I need to get out of here. My eyes scan the area to make sure there are no clues that can tie me back to this incident and that’s when I see it.
Her Kindle.
Carefully I pick it up like it’s a precious stone. Opening the case it springs to life with color. I swipe my hands a few times until a litany of books appears. Clicking on the settings button I get what I’m after…
REGISTERED USER: SOPHIA SMITH
“Jackpot,” I smirk. A common last name, but there’s going to be nothing common about the way I’m going to find her and convince this romance novel junkie that a heartless man from the other side of the tracks is right for her.
And that’s exactly what I’ll do. Become I’m the man she needs, whether she understands just how much she needs me…or not. Yet.