Chapter 4 #2
He hesitates, reluctant to abandon his vigil, but follows me along the fence line, keeping himself between me and whatever lurks in that darkness. My devoted protector.
“Good boy. Always looking out for me.” I run my fingers through his thick fur as we head back to the house. The contact grounds me and reminds me I’m not alone.
I’m being paranoid. It’s probably just a curious bear or something.
But even as we walk away, I can’t shake the feeling of those unseen eyes following my every step.
Shadow and I slip through the front door of the main house, my fingers fumbling with the lock before I manage to secure it. I move to the front windows, drawing the curtains closed with more force than necessary.
I’m used to the symphony of the wilderness—branches creaking in the wind, the rustle of creatures moving through underbrush, and the occasional crack of a twig under a deer’s hoof or mountain lion’s paws. Hell, last week I watched a bear lumber down the driveway like he owned the place.
But even as I repeat this internal mantra, the prickly sensation between my shoulder blades refuses to fade. I’m hyperaware, every nerve ending on high alert. The adrenaline coursing through my veins refuses to abate as I smooth down the curtains.
Tonight, the familiar awareness of wildlife nearby has shifted into something else.
“Pizza’s ready!” Maren’s voice from the kitchen cuts through my spiraling thoughts, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
We head to the kitchen, Shadow rushing ahead of me, no doubt already calculating his chances of scoring some pizza out of her.
She’ll cave. She always does.
Maren stands at the counter, sliding a cookie sheet from the oven where she’s reheated our dinner. The kitchen is warm and bright, with the smell of pizza filling the air. Shadow lopes over to where Maren has already set out his dinner of raw meat beside the back door.
Before I reach the island, three feline shapes materialize around my ankles like furry little magnets.
“There are my other babies.” I bend to stroke each one. The simple act of touching their soft fur calms me, pulling me back from the edge of the panic simmering under my skin.
Juniper, the largest with her long, fluffy gray coat, meows. Willow, slender and black with white paws and belly, leaps onto the counter. Sage, my tiny calico runt, presses against my leg, her purrs so loud they vibrate through my jeans.
“They’ve been absolute pains in my ass.” Maren slides a plate of pizza toward me with a theatrical sigh. “Juni knocked over that stupid vase I keep telling you to move, but you ignore me like I’m talking to myself over here.”
“What?” I scoop up the gray culprit, cradling her substantial weight against my chest. Juni kneads my shirt with her paws, her claws catching in the cotton.
“You’re not usually my troublemaker, baby girl.
That’s Willow’s job.” I shoot a pointed look at Willow, who’s now sniffing Maren’s wine glass. “Why are you being so naughty today?”
Juni responds by head-butting my chin with enough force to make me blink, her purr rumbling against my ribs. I nuzzle into her fluffy belly, breathing in, and the tension in my shoulders eases. “I think you’re getting fatter, Juni. Has Maren been sneaking you extra treats?”
“Hey. I’m not the only one who gives her treats.
” Maren drops into a chair at the kitchen table and takes a generous bite of her veggie pizza.
A string of cheese dangles from her lip, and she slurps it up with zero shame.
“And yes, before you ask, I weighed her the other day. She’s put on a quarter of a pound.
Time to put the chunky monkey on a diet. ”
I grab my plate and settle at the table beside Maren, Juni still in my arms. The normalcy of it all—pizza, my animals, Maren’s easy chatter—makes the fear lurking at the edges of my mind seem almost foolish.
“She’s going to hate us for it, but you’re right.” I take a bite of my chicken and mushroom pizza and pick off a piece of the meat. Juni’s eyes lock onto the morsel as I slip it to her under the table.
“That’s exactly why she’s turning into a furry bowling ball, you know,” Maren says without looking up from her plate.
I shrug, not bothering to look innocent. “Oh, I gave Titus some liver. He seemed interested, at least.”
“Progress. But should we plan for a feeding tube if he doesn’t eat in the morning?”
I sigh. “Yeah, I think so.”
She nods with a frown. She hates it when animals won’t eat, and we have to help the process along. We both do.
“So, what had Shadow all worked up? I heard him growling when I walked over here.”
The question brings the crawling sensation back, an almost tickling along my spine. I hesitate, unsure how to explain the odd feeling without sounding paranoid.
“Not sure. He sensed something in the woods. Probably just something wild moving around.”
“But?” She always knows what I’m not saying.
I take a breath, debating how much to say.
“It felt like someone was watching me. It was strange. Not just passing through or foraging, but deliberately… observing.”
Maren’s eyebrows shoot up. “Observing? That sounds ominous and a little creepy.”
“It felt a little creepy at first, but then it just felt different,” I say, not wanting to alarm her because I’m probably imagining it. “We’re so far out here that anything human would have to really want to be here, you know? It’s not like someone’s going to stumble onto the property by accident.”
“True. We are in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere.” Maren gestures toward the windows with her wineglass. “Too much effort for casual creeping. Unless it’s those wolf poachers again, but they tend to be loud and obvious about it.”
“It wasn’t poachers.” I hold out a piece of crust to Shadow. “This was quieter. More intentional. It was probably nothing. Just my imagination after a long day.”
Maren studies my face for a moment, then a slow, mischievous smile spreads across her lips.
“Maybe you have a stalker. That could be kinda hot.”
I choke on my bite of pizza and take a gulp of wine to wash it down. “Only you would immediately jump to that conclusion or find the idea of a stalker hot.”
“What?” Maren gets up to grab another slice of pizza and the wine bottle. “I’m not talking about a creepy stalker, but a hot one, you know. The kind that makes your panties wet just thinking about what he might do if he caught you out there in those dark woods?”
A strange sensation coils in my belly, and my pulse races for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.
Being wanted with that kind of intensity—the sort that compels someone to lurk in the darkness, to memorize my movements, to make themselves invisible while making me the center of their universe—awakens something reckless in my core.
Sweat breaks out along my hairline and slides down my neck like fingertips against heated skin. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m just saying, if someone’s going to watch me from the woods, I’d prefer it be someone who knows what to do when they make their move.
Make the stalking worth both our times, you know?
” She takes a sip of wine, unbothered by the outrageousness of what she’s suggesting.
“Like, if you’re going to go through all that effort to creep on me, at least have the decency to be fuckable when you finally catch me. ”
A soft laugh slips out, even as my imagination fills with what she’s describing. Strong hands, intense eyes, the thrill of being pursued.
Jesus, I’m losing it. I need to get laid.
“Though knowing your luck, it was probably Old Man Henderson looking for his goat again.”
“Let’s talk about something else. Did the lab results come back for Winston?” I redirect before she can elaborate further on her stalker fantasies. The last thing I need is more fuel for the inappropriate thoughts that have no business being in my head.
But Maren’s grin only widens. She’s filing this conversation away for future teasing. That’s who she is—crude, direct, and shameless about turning every conversation toward sex. She’s the only thirty-two-year-old woman I know with the dirty mind of a teenage boy.
It’s also why I love her so much. Her irreverence, her ability to make even my darkest fears seem manageable through sheer audacity.
Willow jumps onto the table and sits beside Maren’s plate, fixing her with reproachful eyes for not sharing.
Sage has climbed onto Shadow’s back, using him as her personal heated bed, and Juni’s warm weight in my arms is comforting as Maren launches into an elaborate fantasy about what my hypothetical sexy stalker would do.
She’s fine with me being stalked as long as he’s hot, and he pins me down and fucks me senseless when he catches me.
Why am I not surprised?
As I let her drone on, laughing at her absurdity, I can almost convince myself that whatever I felt out there was nothing more than my overactive imagination.
Almost.