Twenty
The Stalker
S itting in the car down the street, I pull up the app to watch the cameras I installed in Amelia’s house before I went to check on her at the bar. I flip through the living room and kitchen but pause at the one in the bathroom.
I squeeze my phone as I watch Amelia’s fuck boy carry her from the bathroom to her bedroom.
I knew she was a slut, just letting this man she barely knows into her home.
Who does she think she is?
Choosing him over me?
I saw the way he walked into the bar with his friends and never took his eyes off her. The fact that he thought he could claim her like she was his in front of the whole bar made me sick.
I’m going to teach her a lesson, a lesson that will hurt.
Amelia needs to learn where her place is because it’s not with this man she barely knows. The original plan was to make Amelia’s life hell for her choices, but maybe I’ll have to add ruining this fucker’s life to my plan as well.
Me: Did you get the information I asked you to?
Unknown: Of course I did. It’s in the email I sent you.
Me: Good. Phase two starts tomorrow.
I throw the burner phone on the passenger seat and grab the flask. I take a long drink and start my car before pulling away.
Soon Amelia . . . soon.