The Stalker
Time Alone W U - Artemas
Iraced my way back to Parker Raines Therapy Center, hoping to catch my girl. I made sure to snag my mask with the green neon LED strips attached to it, which I so proudly made myself. I haven't shown up as my alter ego in a while, and I feel I’m due to pay her a visit.
I’ve been leaving her notes with flowers, but I don’t want her feeling like her stalker abandoned her. That's the last thing I would ever do. I pull into the garage on my bike, circling around, looking for her car. I smile, seeing it still parked.
Damn, she’s here too fucking late.
I glance down at the time, doing a double take as it reads a quarter till eight.
I make my way up to the office. Sliding the mask over my face, hiding my identity like a thief in the night.
I take my phone out of my pocket, pressing on the surveillance software.
A few clicks and the cameras are now on a loop, leaving no trace of me having been here.
I pick the lock with ease and quietly push the door open. I’m light on my feet as I make my way down the hall, glancing around the empty rooms as I pass, ensuring solidarity. I see that my Little Flower’s door is open, and I make my presence known as I stand in the doorway.
Disappointment fills me quickly. Where is she? I was certain she was here. If her car is here, then where is she? I whip out my cell again, clicking on the tracker. Her cell shows she is at a hotel downtown.
What the?
I leave the office in a hurry, making sure I lock the place back up and re-set the cameras to record live. I run down to my bike, remove my mask and replace it with my helmet. I don’t give the engine a moment to breathe as I zoom out, making my way to the Baltimore Hotel.
A million thoughts and questions enter my brain. This is out of her routine. It pisses me off with how confident I was, thinking she was working late. I'll check her phone’s location first before her car’s next time.
Who the hell is she at a hotel with? I’ll murder whoever it is, without thought. That is, if she is out with another man. My blood begins to boil, and I can feel rage seeping through my veins at the thought. I park in front of the valet and hand the guy a hundred bucks.
“If you scratch this, I'll end you,” I threaten. He cowers at the insane look in my eyes and nods. I leave the key in the ignition and walk in.
“S-Sir, you can't just—” The man at the host stand tries to interrupt me, but I keep walking. There's a restaurant to my right and the entrance to the overpriced hotel to my left. I glance in both directions, contemplating which area I should check first.
I turn to the right, walking into the restaurant. If I look here first, it will be faster. I don’t think I have the patience to look through forty floors with this irritation flooding me. She better not be here with another man or I’ll fucking—
My thoughts are cut short when I see beautiful icy hair in the dimly lit back corner. There she is. I remove my helmet and run a hand through my disheveled hair, trying to tame it. It looks like she is talking to someone, but I can't quite see who with the darkness.
A tap on my shoulder makes me jerk my head sideways. I’m on a fucking mission and I keep getting disrupted. She is right there. I can smell her from here. The man from the entrance catches up to me.
“Sir, you can’t just dine in without a reservation,” he states, breathing heavily.
“Get me a table in that back corner there.” I point in the direction of my Little Flower.
“I can’t without a reserv—” I cut him off by shoving a wad of money into his chest.
“How much?”
Not a moment later, I’m being escorted to the back area.
Not as close as I'd prefer, but I’m a few tables away, close enough to watch yet far enough for her not to notice.
The bewilderment on my face could be painted and framed.
Why is she here with her boss? I could have sworn by the way she acts toward him, she wouldn’t want to be within ten feet of him.
She doesn't look like she is exactly enjoying her time, anyway. My hand glides down my face at the sudden memory of him asking her to dinner a few days ago. And she never said “no.” I’m the only one she obeys to. He will find out soon.
“Hi, how are you doing?” the male waiter in my periphery asks, and I know he doesn't actually care. I don’t stray from looking in the direction where my angel and her boss are sitting. I give the waiter a wave of my hand before responding.
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me an Old Fashioned and I’ll take an eight-ounce sirloin, medium rare with the brussels sprouts,” I say, sounding like an asshole. I know I am.
“Of course, Sir,” he complies before leaving. My finger impatiently taps the table in anticipation. I want to smash Parker’s head until it’s a bloody fucking pulp. Then kidnap my girl and fuck her until her body gives out. A quaking feeling simmers into my pants, and I adjust myself as I go stiff.
She makes me so fucking hard. These thoughts of having her are going to drive me insane.
A clink of a glass being set on the table has me looking down. The waiter sits my drink in front of me and leaves without saying a word. Just how I like it. I’m never in the mood for small talk.
I bring the chilled glass to my lips and the hairs on my body rise at the strength of the whisky. I let out a long, open mouth exhale after taking the sip. I’m sure they made it double, assuming the mood I’m in, and I’m not necessarily mad at it.
I peer upward and notice terror written on my Little Flower’s face. My attention only strayed for a moment. Who knew so much could happen? I watch cautiously, waiting to see how the conversation pans out.
The tapping coming from my fingers quickens, becoming a constant rhythm. I set my whiskey-filled glass down roughly. The brown liquid spills over the brim and the sound catches the attention of the surrounding tables. Including my girl’s.
I feel eyes from all over looking in my direction, giving me judgmental looks. It doesn't bother me one bit. The distraction was intended for one person, and one person only. A set of radiant, honey-colored eyes roam around until they meet mine.
As if in an unspoken agreement, she and the world come to a standstill together.
A perplexed look overcomes her expression, trying to make out who I am.
I take it as my sign, and I stand, walking toward her.
She doesn’t take her eyes off me for one second as I approach, towering over their presence.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say, tipping my imaginary top hat on my head and bowing. My attention is solely on her. I couldn’t stand seeing the horrified look that came over her. It practically suffocated me.
The perfect girl with icy hair stares at me with her jaw wide open, not expecting the sudden intrusion. I pat her overbearing boss on the shoulder, making him lean forward slightly at the shove. He and I both know the force was intentional.
“You’re not giving the girl a hard time, are you?” I imply, knowing his intentions without blatantly saying it. He cocks his head and gives me an antagonized look. I know his type. Cocky, entitled as if he has the right to everything that comes across him.
“I don’t think it's polite of you to interrupt our dinner. Did you need something?” he questions, but it's more of a statement for me to leave. I turn around, pretending to give him what he wants. I can feel the smirk of victory on his face from behind me, and I want to beat it off of him.
I see a woman eating alone at the next table over, so I grab the empty chair that accompanies her, whipping it around to their table. I take a seat, joining in on their dinner.
The rubbing of the wood on the tile makes a loud scraping sound, bringing even more attention to our direction. If looks could kill, Parker would be on fire. I clear my throat with a smile, pushing down the laugh that is clawing to escape.
“I don’t know… three is a party, right?” I respond to his question. His forehead crinkles in confusion at the reply. I thought he was supposed to be smart? I stare at him and sigh.
“You asked if I needed something. I think you’re the one in need. So, why not make it a party?” I question back, returning the same smart-ass tone. Dahlia sits there, frozen in place, not knowing what to do. I give her a playful wink, causing her to sink into her chair, bashfully.
“You’re bringing the mood down in here,” I follow up. Parker stands dumbfounded at my audacity. He looms over me, peering down as if I’m below him. The linen napkin falls from his lap, sprawling out on the tiled floor.
“You need to leave. You are not welcome here. What are you even doing here? Are you stalking us?”
I give a wide-toothed grin. I mean, yes. Yes, I am stalking, but only my Little Flower. I couldn’t give two shits about him. I stay planted in the seat, not impacted by the dominance he is trying to exuberate.
My neck pops as It stretches, cranking my head to make eye contact with him. I’ve never needed to look up. I’m usually the one having to look down. This is fun. Dahlia shifts around uncomfortably, but stays quiet.
I can show her how to be thankful later. She and I both know I’m saving her.
“I was having dinner, just like you, until I saw Ms. Rosen. I wanted to come show my appreciation for today's session. You don’t mind now, do you?”
I turn over to her, including her in the one-sided, heated conversation. She looks at me, then at him. Her mouth opens, her bottom lip twitching. I watch as the words fight their way out.
“I–I think I should go…” she says.
“We haven’t eaten yet,” Parker appeals. His efforts are dismissed as my girl places her napkin on the table and stands. A wave of relief, ever so subtly, washes over her. I’m sure the pig in front of her missed it, but I didn’t.