Obsessed

by Bella Winters

  The man from before. The one who shouted he loved me. The sense of not being alone. The snap outside my window. The person who drove away!

  I bury my hands in my hair, and twist them until it hurts. I was being watched all along. He followed me to my apartment.

  He knows where I live.

  I stumble to my feet. I need to get out of here. There’s a rush of blood pounding in my ears and I can’t breathe! Enough of my senses remain to grab my cell phone and keys as I lunge through the door and out of my apartment. My hands are shaking so badly it takes me several attempts to lock up behind me. I bolt to my car and slam the lock down as soon as I’m in.

  My mind is reeling. What now? Where do I go? What do I do?

  I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. Heather will know.

  I rock back and forth in my seat as I wait for her to answer. She picks up on the third ring.

  “Em?” She sounds tired and confused.

  “Heather.” I choke on her name, my voice wrought with tears.

  “What’s wrong? What do you need me to do?”

  I dry my eyes and bite back a smile. I can always count on Heather.

  “Someone was here. They’ve been following me.” I knead my forehead. “They know where I live, Heather. They wrote something on my window.”

  “Oh God,” Heather says. “Where are you?”

  “In my car.” I’m beginning to feel vulnerable just sitting here in the dark parking lot. I should’ve stayed inside. But the thought of going back in there makes my skin crawl.

  “You need to go to the police,” Heather says. “File a report while there’s still evidence so they can catch this creeper.”

  She sounds so authoritative and in control that I immediately jump into action. I put my keys in the ignition and the engine swings to life. A heavy sigh of relief shudders through me. For a second there I honestly believed it wouldn’t start.

  “Okay, I’m going,” I say, as I pull out of the parking lot. “I’ve never even been to a police station before.”

  Heather laughs at this. “Neither have I. But time is always of the essence in cop movies, right?”

  “Sounds right to me. I’ll call you in a few, okay? Thanks, Heather.”

  “Stay safe, Em.”

  I hang up, and use my phone’s GPS to navigate to the police station. The only time I’ve ever been downtown was when I had to set up the utilities for my apartment.

  The police station is a brick building with a large blue sign and several streetlights glowing around it. I hope they’re still open. I’m not sure if police stations close. It doesn’t seem like they should. Crime doesn’t sleep, right?

  I park my car, lock it, and head in.

  The glass doors lead me into a vestibule with an intercom. I jam the button and wait.

  No one answers.

  Just when I’m about to give up, I hear static over the speaker. “Hello?” someone says.

  I jam the button to reply. “Um, hi. I’m here to report a stalker at my apartment.” My voice goes up way too high at the end, like I’m asking a question, and now I feel stupid as well as terrified.

  There’s a pause on the other end. Then, “Is the stalker at your apartment right now, ma’am?”

  “No. Well, I’m not sure. I think he left. I mean, I heard someone leave, I’m just not certain it was him.”

  “Then you should’ve called the non-emergency line.” I swear I can hear the eye-roll in that statement.

  My cheeks grow warm. I should’ve known this was the wrong way to go about this. “I, uh, didn’t think of that. I thought you’d want to gather evidence or whatever.”

  “We do that once a case is opened. You’ll have to fill out a report and give a statement. Hold on, I’ll let you in.”

  A deafening buzz ricochets through my brain and off the walls around me before the door beside the intercom automatically unlocks. I push it open and step into the station.

  It’s a large, spacious room with beige cinder block walls. Benches are lined up along the walls and desks are scattered around the center. More glass doors in the back appear to lead to an office.

  The voice I’d been speaking to on the intercom turns out to be a human woman, not a robot, who waves me over to her desk. I must’ve caught the graveyard shift in full tilt, because it looks like there’s only one other person in the station right now.

  The woman hands me a form to fill out before I can even take my seat. I don’t know what I expected. A hug? For the cavalry to jump into action and get the bad guy? I guess respect for procedure is a good enough reaction under the circumstances, and I fill out the first few boxes. My mind is racing through the events that brought me here.

  What if they don’t take me seriously?

  I hear that ear-splitting buzz again and the echoing click of the door. I look over my shoulder, nerves still on edge but happy to take a break from procedure. Curious to see what fresh crime needs reporting.

  The pen drops from my numb fingers.

  Because it’s Peter. Peter is in the police station. My Peter. Standing right in front of me.

  The woman is saying something to me, but I can’t hear it. She’s nothing more than background noise to me.

  His eyes meet mine, and he freezes in place.

  All this time I’ve been worried that he’s forgotten me, or that he won’t recognize me now that I’m ten years older. All that doubt is swept aside by the way he’s looking at me, like I’m a diamond necklace he misplaced and finally found.

  Relief, humor, and amazement are all mixed in his expression.

  “Emily?” The sound of his voice takes me back ten years, to the purest happiness I’ve ever known.

  Peter is here. And for whatever reason, I’m filled with a certainty that everything is going to be okay.

  Chapter Four

  Peter

  Emily is sitting in my station. Emily. She has a form in front of her that she must have gotten from Clarice. My brain doesn’t know how to process it.

  The Emily I remember was a kid who used to follow me around, badgering me with questions. This Emily is not a kid. Not at all.

  Her hair looks soft and falls in loose waves around her shoulders. Her face is the same, but different. There are smooth cheekbones where baby fat used to be. Her breasts are…Hell, should I be looking at her breasts?

  I snap my gaze back to her face.

  “Peter,” she says. “Oh my God, Peter, I’ve missed you so much!”

  I take a step forward, and then another. Before I’ve thought through what I’m doing, I sweep her into my arms and hold her against me. Her hair smells like lilacs. She feels like coming home.

  It takes me a second, but I finally realize that she probably didn’t come here for me. I let her go reluctantly and step back. “What are you doing here?”

  From how close I am to her now, I can see that her eyes are puffy and her nose is red. I swallow the uneasiness that rises up at the thought of her crying.

  “Filing a report,” she says. “A stalker showed up at my apartment.”

  My heart drops. Of all the things I could’ve walked into tonight, this didn’t figure into my wildest dreams.

  “Come with me.” I lead her back to my office. Her small, slender hand is trembling in mine.

  I close the door behind us and motion for her to take a chair. Damnit, I couldn’t have tidied up before I left? I push the piles of paperwork aside and lean against the edge of my desk. “Tell me what happened.”

  Emily sits down in the chair that’s been occupied by so many other people who’ve come to see me. Her shoulders slump. “I don’t know who it is. Someone called my name on campus today. Yelled that they loved me. I thought it was a prank.”

  My jaw tightens. It’s clear that time and distance haven’t affected how protective I am of her. I can’t stand the thought of someone harassing her. She must be terrified. Although all my instincts are telling me to comfort her, I have to be professional.
<
br />   “Is there anyone you suspect?”

  Emily shakes her head. A stray strand of hair falls into her face. I fight the urge to reach out and sweep it back for her. “No. The worst part is at my apartment, he—I—” She takes a deep breath.

  I pull up a chair beside her and squeeze her hand. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

  She nods. “At first I thought I was going crazy. I kept feeling like I was being watched. Then I saw.” She closes her eyes. “He wrote on my window.”

  I grit my teeth. This bastard has her terrified. He better hope I’m not the one who finds him first. “I’m going to take care of this,” I say. “I’ll handle it myself. Don’t worry, Emily. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She gives me a wavering smile. “You have no idea how good that is to hear. I was so worried that no one would listen to me. It all seems so stupid now.”

  “It’s not stupid, it’s horrifying. He violated your sense of safety. He’s a bastard, and I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

  “Peter.” She reaches out and strokes my cheek. Electricity burns through me at the feel of her. She snatches her hand back and jumps to her feet. “Is this your office?”

  “Uh, yes. Sorry about the mess.”

  “You’re busy. I understand.” She spins around, taking it in. “Fancy. Why do you get the big office instead of a desk out there?”

  “Because I’m the Chief of Police.”

  Her eyes widen. “Wow, Peter, that’s amazing. I always knew you were incredible. I’m glad other people have realized it, too.”

  God, she’s so…Emily. I want to wrap her in my arms again, but I hold myself back. “So, how about you? What have you been up to?” I ask instead. “Conquered the world yet?”

  She blushes. It turns her cheeks a deep shade of pink. “Not quite. I’m in my final year of pre-med at UMass, then on to medical school.”

  “So, being a genius, putting other people to shame, the usual.”

  She twirls a strand of hair between her fingers. “I don’t know, I don’t feel like a genius. Honestly, I feel like an idiot half the time.”

  “Emily, you’re brilliant. At least you were when I was around a decade ago, and by the sound of things, you still are.”

  Her eyes meet mine and I feel that fire that sprang to life at her touch between us again. She hastily looks away and studies the walls. “Oh my God, is that us?” She grabs the picture of our family off its hook.

  “Yeah, I thought I’d decorate a bit. Make the place my own.” I try to keep my voice light.

  Emily is studying the picture intently. “I didn’t even know this picture existed. Oh, I remember that blue shirt you used to wear. We look so young. And our parents….” She lapses into silence.

  “How’s your mom?” I ask. I worry I’ve asked the wrong question when she frowns and hangs the picture back on the wall.

  “She’s the same. Grouchy. Controlling. She’s paying my way through school, so I guess I can’t complain. Hey, you know I wanted to contact you, right? After you left? I really wanted to call, but Mom wouldn’t give me your number. She wouldn’t even tell me where you’d gone.”

  She blinks rapidly and I see a shimmering in her eyes. I really don’t want her to cry again. And I definitely don’t want to be the reason for it.

  “I know. You were still a kid. I wouldn’t blame you even if you hadn’t wanted to talk to me. My dad was such an asshole.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not your dad, Peter. You were always wonderful to me. And my mom.” She rubs the back of her neck and looks away.

  She hasn’t known me for the past ten years. She can’t possibly judge whether I’ve managed to succeed at being better than my dad or not. Hell, she has no idea that just a couple hours ago I blew off spending time with my best friend in order to work.

  I’m glad I decided to come in, though, because I wouldn’t have seen her otherwise.

  “When will you swing by to check out the writing?” Emily asks. “I’m worried that if it rains, all the evidence will be destroyed.”

  “It’s not supposed to rain for a couple of days, but I’ll check it out first thing in the morning. I’d do it tonight, but I’m worried I’d miss something in the dark.”

  She nods.

  This is all we have. A professional relationship. She has no reason to want to be my family, or even my friend. I’m a shit friend, anyway.

  “I should head back,” she says.

  I hold up a hand. “To your apartment?” I don’t say, the scene of the crime.

  She blinks. “Where else would I go? It’s where I live.”

  I shake my head. “It isn’t safe. Whoever this sicko is, he knows you live there.” I could pay for her to stay in a hotel room or insist that she call a friend, but the words that actually come out of my mouth are: “Why don’t you crash at my place?”

  Her mouth falls open, then she snaps it shut. “Your place?”

  I shouldn’t have said it. It was a bad idea. “You don’t have to. We can—”

  “No! I mean, yes. I want to stay at your place.” Her face turns scarlet.

  “Great. Well. I just have to finish up a few things and then I can drive you over.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She smiles at me and the entire room lights up.

  Why did I invite her over? Am I out of my mind? Worse yet, I’m having thoughts about Emily that I really shouldn’t be having. Thoughts about what her breasts would feel like against me without any clothes….

  But whatever my thoughts or feelings, I can’t let her go back to her apartment. She’s Emily. I need her to be safe.

  I rush through the rest of the work I needed to get done. I don’t want Emily to have to sit and wait for too long. She spends her time alternating between being on her phone and watching me work. At one point, she mentions texting a friend to let them know she’s safe. I’m glad she has friends who care about her like that.

  For the first time in I can’t remember how long, I’m eager to get home. Miracle of miracles, I even delegate a few tasks instead of obsessively doing them myself.

  With everything to the point that it’ll hold until morning, I pack up.

  “What’s your place like?” Emily asks as we leave.

  I shrug. “Bare. I spend most of my time at work.”

  She gives me a worried frown. “You’re not overworking yourself, are you? You were always so focused. Never knew when to let off the gas.”

  “I’m okay,” I reply vaguely. I can’t dump all my troubles on her now, after not seeing her for so long.

  My apartment is only a short drive away. I specifically chose it so I’d have as short a drive as possible. It’s especially great when I leave the station way after midnight so I don’t have to go far before I can crash into my four hours of sleep.

  We roll into the parking lot of my apartment building together. It’s a high-end building with a sleek modern design to it. I spend a fortune on rent, but it’s worth it on the rare occasion I’m not working. It has a great gym right in the building, and the bare brick walls in my apartment make my place look stylishly minimalistic rather than hopelessly barren.

  Emily’s eyebrows climb as she takes it in. “Wow. Being chief of police must pay well.”

  “It has its perks.” I grin at her and she smiles back. That smile socks me right in the gut. She’s gorgeous. I lean closer to her as if she has her own field of gravity drawing me in. I’m helpless against it.

  Her hand curls around the door handle and I snap back to my senses. What am I doing? This is Emily. I can’t be thinking about her like this. I definitely can’t be thinking about wrapping that soft brown hair of hers around my hands and pulling her closer to me.

  Would she moan if I slid my tongue into her mouth?

  Goddamnit, Peter, get a grip.

  I yank open the car door and let the cold night air freeze some sensibility into me.

  “Emily,” I mutter under my breath to remind mysel
f that she’s not someone to be having sexy thoughts about. “She’s Emily.”

  “You forgetting my name?” Emily is closer than I thought. Those big eyes of hers look up at me and I let out a breath.

  “Never. Let’s get inside.”

  We walk to the door in companionable silence. I notice Emily scanning the treeline, but she doesn’t say anything. I hold out my hand to her. She wraps both her hands around mine and squeezes gently. “There’s a lock on the door to the building and another one on my apartment,” I say, as if it’s an idle observation.

  Her cheeks flush. “I know I’m safe here. After what happened, I’m just…nervous.”

  “You had a shock. It’s normal.”

  She nods. Her hair falls in front of her face and I can’t see her expression.

  I use my key to unlock the door and let her in.

  She lets out a whistle when she sees the spacious hallway with marble floors. “I always knew you had high standards, but damn.” She admires the molding along the ceiling and I have the bizarre thought that I wish she’d look at me like that. Never before in my life have I wished to be wainscotting.

  I press the button for the elevator and the doors slide open silently. We walk into the elevator and as soon as the doors shut silently behind us, I realize I’ve made a mistake. We should have taken the stairs.

  If we’d taken the stairs I wouldn’t have been in a small space with Emily standing right beside me. The tension between us is practically crackling.

  Her eyes meet mine, and there’s no denying it. I want to have sex with Emily. And I’m pretty sure she wants it, too.

  Chapter Five

  Emily

  The elevator doors open and I gasp in oxygen. I feel like I haven’t taken a breath since I got on. I keep my eyes on the floor as Peter leads me to his apartment.

  Because I’m at Peter’s apartment.