Chapter 10
Sly
I deserved an award. I was being a good boy and wasn’t stalking the woman who had stolen my heart the moment she stepped into my life unexpectedly.
Okay, fine. I managed not to stalk her for two full days.
That was my record. I still wanted to make sure she was okay. Even though she’d texted that she was home and doing fine, I wanted proof with my own eyes.
So I kept it low-key. The way you’re supposed to do it.
Quiet and careful, no standing on sidewalks like an idiot.
Better than those five nights outside Joey’s place and the grocery store fiasco.
This time, I was good at it. I was sure she hadn’t noticed me yet. She would’ve said something otherwise.
Thirteen days had passed since she moved her stuff out of Joey’s house and into her apartment.
For eleven of them, I checked in from a distance, just to confirm she was living her life.
She went out a few times, but mostly stayed in.
It made me curious about her work. Maybe she was unemployed.
That would’ve been fine. Maybe she was looking for a job, or she was just taking some time off.
Even if it didn’t seem that she had a nine-to-five, she didn’t look like she was struggling. She looked happier and in control. That counted for a lot, and it made me feel better about everything I put her through.
This morning, she left with her laptop under her arm and a bag hanging from her shoulder. It didn’t prove that she had a job, but maybe she worked from home. That would explain the quiet routine. I worked from home too. Perfect fit, if you asked me.
She drove into town, where she parked near the center, then walked to a coffee shop.
She stayed there for four hours, typing on her laptop and occasionally writing down notes in her notebook.
I sat across the street in another café and watched her work.
She typed the whole time, laser-focused, and every so often, a smile cut through.
She had three drinks, coffee or tea, hard to tell from here, a cupcake, then a sandwich.
When she packed up, I stayed put. Respectful stalker, round two.
I wanted proof I could stop when I chose to, and that I wasn’t being obsessive.
I was just being concerned for her. There’s a difference, even if it’s thin.
I lingered another two hours in the coffee shop, played dumb games on my phone, and skimmed the comments on my latest video.
By the fourth coffee and third slice of chocolate cake, I decided I should leave before my hands shook off my arms. The upside of all the caffeine and sugar intake was that I’d have enough energy for a solid livestream tonight.
My followers liked me wired, and I never had to try hard to be funny.
It just came naturally. (It took years of trauma to be this funny.)
“Sly?”
I froze and looked up into the grey eyes I’d been seeing every time I closed my eyes. Shit…she found me.
Sumner stood at my table with one arm across her stomach, bag hanging from her shoulder, and a soft, amused look that made my heart do a stupid little flutter.
“Sumner, hey.” I stood and stumbled over my chair’s leg because my body always forgot how to be casual in her presence.
She didn’t speak again for a moment but just watched me carefully. “You’re not stalking me, are you?”
“No.” Liar. Don’t lie to her. How dare you? She doesn’t deserve to be lied to. “Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t upset or angry. She looked amused, which I hoped meant I wasn’t blowing it. Maybe this was the start of something new. Something more. God, I wanted to get to know her so fucking bad.
“Well, what is it? Yes or no?” she said.
“Yes,” I admitted. “But not in a creepy way. We live in the same city. You picked that coffee shop; I always come to this one. It’s hardly a coincidence. And you found me, not the other way around.”
You’re not making this any better, man. Maybe it’s best to just shut the fuck up. Justifying this won’t work.
“Right.” She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. “I was walking back to my car and saw your bike.”
“That could be anyone’s bike.”
She gave me a look. I needed to stop this. I was being weird.
“Fine. That’s my April out there.”
“You named your bike?”
“Of course, I named my bike.” I hated how snappy and defensive I sounded while talking to her.
It’s all I’ve been wanting to do ever since I first met her, and all I could do was be annoyed with her coming up to me and starting a conversation.
I needed to get my shit together. “She’s uh… she’s the most important thing I own.”
And I’d put her in second place if I could make you mine.
Jesus Christ…
Shut up.
Sumner’s smile tugged a little wider. She glanced at the table. “Were you leaving?”
I nodded, keeping my mouth shut before I said something that would scare her off.
“Wanna sit with me for a while?”
Yes. Obviously yes. I want to sit with you forever and not just for a while.
I did a shrug and hoped it looked casual. “Sure.”
She laughed under her breath and pulled out the chair. “You’re strange.”
We’d established that a while ago, and many had called me strange before. But when she said it, it didn’t feel like an insult. It didn’t hurt me to hear it from her. I felt seen with her, like she truly knew me. Which I knew was silly to think, but there was no ill intent in her words.
“Heard that before,” I said jokingly. I needed my mood to change.
Needed it to be lighter and less annoyed.
I owed her that. She’d come to me. She’d asked me to stay.
That wasn’t the grocery-store version of us.
Back then, she’d asked for space, and I gave it to her.
Maybe this was my reward. Even if I did still stalk her and made this encounter kind of my fault.
I was glad she was sitting here with me now, and I didn’t want to ruin this moment.
“So,” I said, studying her, “how have you been?”
“Shouldn’t you know?” she said, teasing. “Since you’re still stalking me.”
There was a mocking undertone in her voice, but she wasn’t upset. She was maybe a little irritated, but she wasn’t angry about it.
Maybe she liked it. Maybe this was some sexual kink of hers, being stalked.
I chuckled and shrugged. “I don’t know. You were upright and moving, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay.”
Her smile went soft. “I’m okay. I’m glad I’m not with Joey anymore and that I won’t have to go back to that place. I’m getting better.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” I rubbed my hands on my thighs and leaned back. I had a dozen questions and no idea which ones to ask. So I let her talk and lead this conversation.
“I’ve been thinking a lot,” she said, her expression tightening. “About what happened and what comes next.
“What did you land on?”
“That I’m better off being alone for a while, and that it’s okay to want that. I was with Joey for years. I never really felt safe or happy. I hate that I let him twist things, brainwash me, because I’m not a stupid woman.”
Her voice was full of emotions she tried hard to keep hidden. It wasn’t really working, though. I reached across the table and offered my hand. She let me take it. I ran my thumb over her fingers, giving her the support she deserved.
“You got out,” I said. “That’s the important thing. None of what he did was your fault.”
“It felt stupid not to see it sooner.”
“It wasn’t,” I said. “Seeing slow is still seeing. Leaving slow is still leaving.”
She exhaled, then glanced at me with a steadier look. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Are you getting help?” she asked, careful but direct, “since you wanted to kill those guys?”
I was ready to argue with her that I did kill the guys on my kill list, but we both knew that I truly didn’t. I was just there and initiated it, and karma did the rest.
I let out a breath. “Yeah. I’m in therapy.”
Her brows lifted a little.
“Real therapy,” I added. “Licensed, office with ugly chairs and weirdly empty walls and all that. Been going for years now.”
“So you told your therapist about your kill list?”
“God, no. That would get me straight to prison.”
She pulled her hand from mine and chewed on her bottom lip. “Then why go to therapy in the first place?”
Great question. One I wasn’t prepared for.
So I shrugged.
“I mean…that’s some serious stuff, Sly. You planned on killing people. Almost went through with it, too. The only thing that doesn’t make you a murderer is the fact that they killed themselves.”
I was slowly understanding what she was trying to say here. I was the bad guy here, just like Joey. The only difference was that I never got to go through with the killing part.
Motherfucker…I wasn’t any better than Joey.
No, wait, I actually was. I never hurt a woman or anyone who hadn’t hurt me first. My killing spree was meant for revenge, and other than that, I never meant to continue any of that.
I still had no words. There was probably nothing I could say to make her see me in a different and positive light. All she knew about me was the fact that I had a kill list and had five people killed because of it. One more if Joey hadn’t resurrected that night.
“I’m torn,” she finally said with a tilt of her head. “You saved me, and you’re generally a nice guy, but you…”
“I’m a psycho.”
Her lips pursed. “Not the word I was going to use because I don’t think you’re one.”
“How else would you describe me?”
“Complex. Broken. Alone.”
That last one stung. “What makes you think I’m alone?”
“Just a guess.”