Watched

by Louise River

  “He wasn’t always that bad. We’d been together since my sophomore year. He’s a year older than me, and he was sweet once. But then he started getting a big head. He was acting like the big man on campus my junior year.”

  “Because he was a senior?”

  “Because I decided to finally sleep with him.”

  Ryder tries to hold back a grimace as the thought of them together makes him sick to his stomach. “I see.”

  “Honestly, that’s part of the reason I’m not mad at the fact they slept together. It’s kind of her own punishment. Karma or whatever.”

  “How?”

  “He’s terrible.”

  “We’ve established he’s not a great person.”

  “No, he’s terrible in bed.”

  “He couldn’t be that bad, could he?”

  “He was never really ‘good,’” she laughs.

  “You never enjoyed it?”

  “Define ‘enjoyed it’.”

  Ryder ducks his head down to make sure no one else can hear them. “So you never-“

  “Nope.”

  “He never caught on.”

  “I could be in Hollywood for the performance I gave. Ask him and it was every time except the first. But the first is always bad, right?” Her voice is low and husky. She smiles.

  Ryder’s jaw drops open.

  “Sorry, I can get kind of bitchy when I’m upset. It’s one of my stages of grief. Normally, I wouldn’t admit that to anyone.”

  “Is he the only person you’ve been with?” Ryder’s mouth goes dry. For some reason he’s nervous.

  “I’m eighteen and started dating him when I was sixteen. What are you trying to say?”

  “Nothing!” He puts his hands up. “Nothing at all.”

  “I’m kidding. Calm down. Yes, he’s the only one. Although I wish I was still a virgin.”

  “Why?”

  “TV always makes you believe it gets better. It never did.”

  “Ouch.”

  “His inability to take direction is his biggest downfall in life. Not just in the bedroom. That’s why he’s becoming a teacher. He knows everything about everything anyone could possibly know. There’s nothing left to teach him. So, naturally, he decided teaching was the best way to spread his ‘knowledge’ of the world. Whatever that is.”

  “Let me guess – a gym teacher?”

  “Yep. I don’t know why. It’s not like he can participate much in general anyway.”

  “What about Paige? What’s she going to do after the summer?”

  “She’s going to the community college, but really wants to go to cosmetology school. She’s really good with hair, but her parents told her they wouldn’t pay for it. She would have to pay for it herself, and she isn’t sure she wants to start off life with that much debt.”

  “That sucks.”

  “I suggested she get an associates degree in business, and then go to cosmetology school. Then she could open up her own salon, which is ultimately what she wants to do anyway.”

  “Do you think you two could ever be friends again?”

  Greta walks up to the table with the food and sets the plates down. She sets down a second plate full of fries in front of Parker who smiles appreciatively. “You look much better than you did before, honey.”

  “I feel better. Thank you for the fries.”

  “On the house. You looked like you needed them. Like you just lost your best friend, baby. Do you two need anything else?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Everything looks great,” Ryder says.

  “You two make a cute couple.” Greta leaves them with that thought, and Ryder’s knife and fork are suspended in midair.

  “I don’t know.”

  “That we’d make a cute couple?” Why does that disappoint him?

  “No, if Paige and I could be friends again.” She laughs and stabs at her salad.

  “Maybe you could bond over just how bad Aaron is in bed.”

  “We probably could.”

  “Just so you know, it’s not always like that.” This is not a conversation he should be having with Parker Lewis.

  “Like what?”

  “Bad.”

  “How can you be so sure the women you’ve been with haven’t faked it?” Parker’s voice is low to make sure no one else hears.

  “TV. I’m a virgin.”

  “What?” She almost chokes on her salad. “No way.”

  “Do I look like a man-whore?” He smirks at her. Two can play this game.

  “Kind of. No offense.”

  “Offense taken.” He laughs.

  “You don’t really seem like the type who would save himself for marriage is all I’m saying. Plus, I feel like with your looks, you knock a lot of women off their feet.” She raises an eyebrow that shoots fire into his belly.

  “I don’t know if I’d classify myself as a man-whore, but I have had a few women in my bed.”

  Parker’s face falls. “I was right.”

  Why did she seem upset by the thought of him with other women? Why did he care? “Anyway, once you see a real, honest to God one, you know. Faking or not faking, it’s easy to tell.”

  “A real one?”

  “Orgasm,” he whispers, and her body tenses. “Certain tells. There’s a way her body moves, how she reacts, how she sounds. There’s more to it than simply moaning and putting on a good “O” face.”

  “When you put it that way, it sounds like fun.”

  “Oh, kid, trust me. It is. One day you’ll find out for yourself.”

  “Gosh, I hope so. So far, the only experience I’ve had made me want to become a nun.”

  “I don’t think they let non-virgins into the monastery.”

  “I’ll have to look that up. I’m also not Catholic, so there’s another challenge to overcome.”

  “I think that might be a problem, yes.”

  “Then again, if I can live to see my first day of college, I’ll be happy.”

  Her fear being voiced hangs a heavy cloud between them. Ryder knew she was afraid, but knowing she worries about making it through the summer makes him resolve to find this crazy stalker.

  As though she was reading his mind she asks, “Have you found anything more about him?”

  “No,” he says and put his napkin on his almost empty plate. Parker is finished, too, but she hasn’t eaten much of either plate. “I worked with John to get a sketch of him, though.”

  “Do you have it with you?”

  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He slides it across the table to her. “I can’t pinpoint why, but he looks familiar to me. Like I know how, or seen him more than those two times. I can’t figure it out why.”

  She unfolds the sketch and her face goes pale. “I know why.”

  “Why?”

  She holds the paper up against her face. “He looks like me.”

  Ryder’s eyes go wide as he realizes she’s right. He looks familiar because he looks like a male version of her.

  Chapter 11

  Ryder drives Parker home, and she holds onto him tightly. Not out of fear, though. She relishes the feeling of holding onto someone, one of the few people, who makes her feel safe. It doesn’t hurt he also makes butterflies flutter in her stomach when they’re close.

  Ryder is the type of man who knows how to protect someone. How to make them feel safe. Besides the sheer size of him, his personality shows he’s the type to move heaven and earth to keep those he holds dear to him safe. And somehow, she seemed to fit into that category.

  After the conversation regarding sex at dinner, Parker can’t seem to get the idea of them together out of her head. Heat pools between her legs, and the vibration of the motorcycle does nothing but enhance her need. And the feeling of electricity and heat when they’re in close quarters only intensifies her lust for him.

  It doesn’t take long to arrive at her house, but she secretly wanted to ask him to take the long way.
Not that the long way would be much more than a few extra minutes, anyway. She’s unsure when the next time they’ll be able to be this close together again, and it make her sad. Ryder is very aloof with most people, and he’s an extremely private person, but there is something that draws them together.

  He walks her to her front door, and she can’t help but hope he’ll kiss her. She stares at his mouth and sucks on her bottom lip for a second.

  “You look like you want me to kiss you,” he whispers.

  “You should be a detective.”

  “I can’t kiss you.”

  Her heart drops. “Why not?”

  “There are a few reasons.”

  “I can think of a couple of reasons to abandon those reasons.”

  “There’s not much you could say to change my mind, kid.”

  “I’m eighteen. I’m not a kid.”

  “You are a kid. You still live with your parents.”

  “Why would I waste money on an apartment when I’m leaving at the end of the summer?” She pouts. “Besides, you’re only, what, five years older than me?”

  “That’s a long time when you’re eighteen.”

  “Give me another reason.”

  “You just broke up with your boyfriend.”

  “We already established my feelings on him.”

  “You were just attacked.”

  “You saved me.” She’s fighting him word for word on this.

  “You’re Chief’s goddaughter.” Even as he says all of the reasons, he gets closer to her until they are only a couple of inches apart.

  “He doesn’t own me.”

  “He owns me. And all of these reason equate to me taking advantage of a young girl.”

  She looks into his now bright green eyes. They seem more intense to her than before. “I don’t care about those reasons. Who cares if Sam is my godfather? Who cares if I just lost my best friend? I don’t are about losing my boyfriend, so that’s a moot point. Who cares if I was attacked? You saved me. You keep saving me. I feel I can trust you. And your actions speak louder than your words. You don’t really care that I’m only eighteen. It’s just an excuse.”

  “It’s not.”

  “You want me as much as I want you,” she whispers.

  “I don’t do relationships.” His voice is low and husky.

  “Good thing I didn’t ask for one.”

  “Most girls are looking for one.”

  “I’m not most girls. And I’m not asking you to take me right here on the front steps of my parents’ house. I want you to kiss me. And I want this kiss because I’m pretty sure kissing you is better than any sex I have experienced,” she whispers, getting even closer.

  Ryder moves to close the final gap when the front door suddenly opens. He jumps back two feet, putting a respectable distance between them. Parker turns towards her father. “Dad.”

  “Everything alright out here?” Peter asks and eyes Ryder.

  “Everything’s fine. I’ll be in in a minute.”

  Peter gives her a stern look before reluctantly closing the door. She looks at Ryder and knows the moment is gone. He’s not going to kiss her, and she’s never felt a disappointment so strong. Instead, he reaches into his wallet and hands her a card.

  “What’s this?”

  “My card. It has my cell number on it in case anything comes up. If you see that guy again, give me a call, okay? I have a few days off, so I can be anywhere quickly. The town is only so big, after all.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she says as Ryder kisses the top of her head.

  He walks to his bike, picks up his helmet she left on the seat, and slips it on his head. Within a minute he’s gone from her driveway.

  Parker walks into the house and glares at her father.

  “What?”

  “What was that about?” She waves her hands towards the door.

  “You were out there for awhile. I wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

  “You wanted to check and make sure I was okay with the cop who save my life yesterday?” She sighs. “What did you think he might do? Save my life to death?”

  “Parker,” Anne warns. “You don’t speak to your father that way.”

  “I’m eighteen, Mom. I should be able to stand on the porch with a cop and not be interrupted like I’m a thirteen-year-old coming home from her first boy-girl party.”

  “What would Aaron think about you being out with the Deputy? I saw the look you gave him.” Peter raises his eyebrow. “Do you think he’d want me to just let you do what you want because you’re now an adult?”

  “I’m not sure Aaron has much of a say in anything I do considering I just caught him screwing Paige at his house when I stopped by. Which is how I ended up with Ryder, by the way. In case you were wondering. He once again happened to save me from myself more than anything else.”

  Anne stands and walks towards Parker and pulls her into a hug. “Oh, honey.”

  “I’m fine, Mom, really. I am fine.”

  “Do I need to have a discussion with Aaron?” Peter asks.

  “No, guys, really. I’m fine.”

  “I could call Paige’s mom,” Anne says to Peter.

  “Oh my gosh, please. Don’t. Don’t do anything, okay? Aaron and I have been over for a while anyway, and I just wasn’t ready to let my old life go yet. I’m more upset about losing my best friend, but I really have bigger things to worry about than either of those two right now.”

  “I really am sorry,” Anne says. “You’re being so brave.”

  “Mom,” Parker groans. “I’m going to go take a shower, go to bed, and pretend for a few hours that none of this,” she waves between herself, her parents, and the front door, “ ever happened. Okay?”

  “Sleep tight, kiddo,” Peter says and kissed the top of her head.

  “Goodnight. I love you.” Parker heads up the stairs to her room.

  The next morning, she decides to stay in bed and pretend to sleep until her parents leave for work. With the patrol car outside and willing to follow her, they felt comfortable leaving her to go to work.

  Something about the sketch Ryder showed her last night haunted her all night, causing little sleep. He looks so much like her. He has the same cheekbones, the same mouth, Grandma Violet’s nose, and the same scar above his left eye. That part bothered her out more than anything else. And she couldn’t help but see him every time she closed her eyes.

  Jumping out of bed, she changes into her favorite black running shorts and bright orange tank top. She decides it’s best to head to the library to see if she can find anything in the papers about this man she now believes to be her brother.

  As she starts running, her thoughts are pushed aside to the feeling of being followed. Looking behind her, she sees Deputy Scott Rogers following her in the squad car. “At least I know I won’t be attacked this morning,” she says to herself.

  She reaches the library and run up the steps, unable to avoid the urge to run them Rocky style. Celebrating slightly in her head as she reaches the top, she smiles. The fact she’s able to put everything in her life on hold for a minute is a big feat.

  She walks inside and sees Mary Silvers, the librarian, who has never done anything outside of this library that she can remember. There are two hairstyles she sports: pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head or braided into a long tail that runs down the length of her back. Today, the bun is making a statement against her extremely modest knee length black dress with short sleeves. She gives Parker a weary look.

  “Hi, honey. How are you doing? I heard about what happened.”

  “I think everyone probably has by now.”

  “What are you looking for today, dear?” Mary asks, but the look she gives Parker says she already knows.

  “I’m not entirely sure. There’s something about the man who attacked me. He seems very familiar, but I can’t pinpoint why. Can I look through old newspapers?”

  “They aren’t digital. You know, budge
ts.” She gives a shrug. “But I took the liberty of pulling a few and setting them aside. I think they may have something you’re looking for.”

  “You know something, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mary leads her back to a table filled with newspapers on wooden sticks. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  She sits at the table, and the front page of the first newspaper has a picture of a little boy with blonde hair and a scar above his eye. The caption reads Little Boy Committed To Mental Hospital After Trying To Kill Sister. As she reads the first paragraph of the article, she pulls out her phone and finds Ryder in her contacts.

  Chapter 12

  Ryder sits at home and hears his phone ring. Rushing toward it, he mentally hopes it’s Parker as though sheer will would make the caller her. “Edwards.”

  “It’s Parker.”

  The sound in her voice makes any excitement vanish. “What’s wrong?”

  “Sam suspended you, didn’t he? That’s why you have some time off?”

  “With pay, so it’s not as bad as it could be. And I still have a job. I think.”

  “Can you come to the library? I think I found who he is.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Ryder hangs up and rushes outside and hops into his truck. If he gets a second chance today, he’s not going to hesitate to kiss her, and the pickup has more room. Job be damned. Thoughts of her wanting to kiss him made him hot and bothered all night. He never thought the simple act of kissing someone could make him take three cold showers.

  He pulls up outside the library and sees Scott. Nodding at him, he starts up the stairs and tries to remember the last time he stepped foot in one of these buildings. As he steps inside, he sees her blonde hair and all thoughts of libraries vanish from his mind.

  “What’s up, kid?”

  “Read this,” Parker says and hands him a newspaper. All joking has been shut off.

  Kane Lewis, five-year-old son of Peter and Anne Lewis, was committed to the State Mental Hospital today after an evaluation with the hospital psychiatrist. Kane took a knife to his baby sister’s face and could have potentially killed her had her parents not intervened. It is undetermined as to how long Kane will stay admitted.