Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Maybe I’ll give her a piece of my mind, telling her it’s not fucking okay.
Or maybe this impossible feeling will grow when I lay eyes on her.
Chapter Three
Zoey
I drag myself up the stairs toward my apartment. My body is sore from the impromptu double shift, my legs aching as I curse the elevator for not working… again.
I know I need to stop letting my thoughts spiral into negativity so easily, but it’s difficult when I’ve spent the day being yelled at by Clive for things that weren’t my fault.
One of the other waitresses brought the wrong food to a table, and somehow Clive got it into his head that it was my fault so he started yelling. By the time he worked out the truth, he was so worked up he didn’t even apologize.
I sigh when I reach my floor.
I just want to get inside and hunker down on the couch, watch romantic movies I’ve seen dozens of times before. I was planning on getting some painting done this evening, but right now the thought of doing anything taxing makes my head ache.
I turn the corner to my apartment.
And then my world spins over and over.
My heart feels like it freezes in my chest.
No, no, no.
This can’t be happening.
Jerry spots me, a vicious smile peeling across his face. He’s more muscular than the last time I saw him, a year ago, his arms swollen and his chest wide and bulging. But the muscles look strange on his tall normally-lean frame, as though he’s inflated flesh-colored balloons and attached them to himself.
His red hair is the same, though, a mop that hangs down to his cheeks. His eyes are the same too, glinting greens filled with a sick expression I can’t stand to look at.
I wonder if it’s too late to turn and run, but he’s already walking toward me. He has that sick smile on his face, the one I remember well from dozens of other encounters. It’s a smile that says I’ll come to my senses, I’ll admit I love him if I only let my defenses down a little bit.
It’s a wrong smile.
“Zoey.” He breathes shakily. “I was worried about you.”
Bugs crawl over my skin. The hallway is empty and, even if it wasn’t, I know the other occupants wouldn’t help me. A few of my neighbors are addicts and the rest have other problems, too consumed with their own hells to worry about mine.
I have to play this smart. I can’t let my disgust show on my face.
“Oh, that’s silly,” I murmur, hating how friendly my voice sounds.
Whatever happens, I can’t let him inside my apartment.
A voice laughs at me from deep within, taunting and telling me that if Jerry wants to get inside my apartment, the flimsy door and janky lock aren’t going to stop him.
“Silly?” He moves closer, bringing the stink of sweat with him. “You’re not normally back this late. It’s almost seven. I thought your shift ended at six?”
I try for a laugh, but it comes out sounding strangled.
And then I find myself wishing for Zack Stone to come to my rescue, charging down the hallway with his silver gleaming hair and that wild wolf in his eyes.
I’ve been thinking about him a lot since I wrote him, trying to picture his face when he reads my letter, my whole body lighting up every time my thoughts settle on his muscular frame.
“How do you know when my shift ends?” I say, struggling not to let out a feral scream.
He tilts his head, grinning at me. “Silly goose, how do you think?”
Silly goose, the same nickname he branded me with when I was a dorky sixteen year old at summer camp and he was the event organizer… a fully grown man taking a twisted interest in me.
My skin prickles horribly, every instinct I have screaming at me to run as fast as I can.
He was twenty-two at the time.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Of course you do. I’ve been watching you for a week now. It was quite clever of you, the way you moved in the middle of the night. And you gave everyone a fake forwarding address, so… what? So I wouldn’t be able to find you? Is that why you did it?”
Coldness creeps into his voice, his eyes narrowing as a nasty glint shimmers across his gaze.
“No, of course not,” I lie. “There was this guy in my apartment, this real creep, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to leave in such a rush. It had nothing to do with you.”
Lies, lies, lies… obvious lies.
I can’t believe he’s going to accept this, but Jerry is the sort of man who can’t entertain the idea that I’d ever run away from him. In his mind, he’s not the sort of man who creeps women out.