Chapter 3

Three

Finding Addison is easy; staying out of sight is much harder. On several occasions, I've come up to the Eve's Fury Clubhouse just to sit around and scope the place out. Every time I've tried to do that, I've almost been caught by either Mojag or someone named Press. It's like, between the two of them, they know every branch of this forest area.

The last thing I want is for any of them to start asking questions, especially when I'm not sure how I'd answer them yet.

Yeah, I'm a police officer. No, I'm not on duty. Oh, and by the way, I think Addison's son is my kid. Sure that'll go over well.

I groan and park my motorcycle as far away from the property as possible. I'll have to walk the rest of the way from here. There's one spot with good tree coverage that I've noticed neither Press nor Mojag come around very often. I'm sure it's because there's a wasp's nest nearby. I'm not afraid to be stung once or twice if it means I can get a look at Addison.

Most nights, she and the child are out on the porch just playing around. Other nights, she's there by herself. I can't tell if she's happy or sad, but it looks like she's safe.

Of course, I'm only looking in from the outside; she could be holed up in there against her will for all I know. A surge of anger bubbles up inside of me, but I push it down. I don't know her situation, at least not yet. It's why I need to do more research.

I'm here a little earlier than usual; the sun has barely set by the time I make it to my spot. I hear laughter and people talking inside before the sound of loud music comes blaring out of the open window. God, I hope she's okay in there. I've never really been a big fan of motorcycle clubs, but they're good for certain things.

A breeze floats right under my nose, and I catch the very subtle scent of brown sugar and chocolate.

Someone must be baking.

I wonder if it's Addison. She seems like the type that would make a batch of cookies just for the hell of it. Someone who belongs in a home with someone taking care of her. Someone who needs to be guided and spoiled. I could do all those things for her and more.

I groan again, but this time follow it up with the hard thud of my head against the closest tree. "You'll have to get off your ass and go talk to her first," I mutter to myself. Rubbing at the throb on my forehead, I close my eyes for a second, only to pop them back open again when I hear the front door to the house open.

My breath catches when I see Addison walking out with the little boy cocked on her hip. She's not dressed to stay home either. It looks like she's going out.

Instantly, I perk up at the opportunity. So far, she spends most of her days and nights at the clubhouse. I've never had a chance to see her out in the open, with nothing blocking me. I could follow her. I could be close to her.

The excitement is almost too much to bear. I watch from my hiding spot, nerves and anticipation racing through me, as I watch her get the boy over to a small sedan and strap him into a car seat before she gets herself over to the front driver's door. She's going alone. It's perfect.

I'm moving too fast. I turn in place, trying to find the best way out of the small area without causing too much noise, but the ground is muddy. Instead of taking a step forward, I slip and land directly in the mess below me. "Shit!" Without even checking to see if I'm injured, I get back on my feet and run as fast as I can toward my motorcycle. There's only one way for her to go, and if I want to get there without her seeing me, I have to be at my bike before she drives down the hill.

It's been a long time since I've had to move this fast. I used to be a beat cop, but now that I'm behind a desk, most of my police work happens behind a computer screen. Sweat pours down the side of my face, and my side has a stitch in it; I'm so out of breath. Thankfully, I make it to my bike before she gets down the hill. The bike rumbles to life, and I peel out of my hiding spot only to find another one further down the road where Addison might not notice me if I pull out behind her.

Every muscle in my body is coiled tight and ready as I wait for her to come. Doubts start to swirl in my mind, and a hint of shame as I realize I'm more or less stalking this woman. For all I know, she might not want anything to do with me. If she has my son, that's not something I'm comfortable giving her a choice about.

Finally, after what feels like forever, I see her car pull out of the only road that leads up to the clubhouse and onto the main street where I'm hiding out. The clubhouse is deep in the back country, so there's not a lot of traffic. I force myself to wait twenty seconds before I pull out and follow behind her. The drive is slow and leisurely. I don't have to wonder where she's off to for too long because she turns into a small strip mall and circles the parking lot to look for a spot.

I park my bike in the far corner where I can keep my eyes on her but not get too close. My eyes are glued to her as she finds a spot and gets out of her car to get the child and her belongings. I feel like I'm in a movie or something. She seems to be moving in slow motion, and the wind is tussling her dark hair perfectly. God, she's gorgeous.

A few people walk by in front of me, their attention locked on me, and I have to look away from Addison before they get the wrong idea. I'm not a predator, even though right now I've got quite a few predator qualities. Once again, forcing myself to stay back, I watch as she walks into a clothing store. When I know she's not expecting anyone behind her, I follow her inside.

We could've been in a lingerie store for all the attention I was paying at that moment. All of my focus is on her. She browses the clothes on the shelves without a care in the world. The boy is safe in the seat of the shopping carriage, and I forget myself for a moment. I want to get closer. Staying maybe ten feet away from her, I follow her from aisle to aisle, only falling out of my daydream when I watch her pick up baby shoes.

She must be here shopping for the little boy. Does he need things? I should be the one taking care of this. It's my job. Another wave of guilt washes over me, and I grunt softly, trying to force the emotion back down.

The sound must have traveled because Addison's head pops up, and just as she's about to turn and look right at me, I turn my back to her so she can't see my face. For all she knows, I'm shopping for my own little boy. I need to give it some space. If I don't, she's going to think I'm being a creep. I am.

When I turn back in her direction, I see nothing but the baby shoe display and some tussled clothing on the shelf. She's gone. "What the fuck," I grumble and look up and down the aisles, trying to find her. I don't. "No, no, no!" I whisper-shout and desperately start moving up and down the store looking for her.

At the last second, I watch her walking out of the store, pushing the shopping cart to the parking lot. I don't care who I have to push through right now; I need to get to her.

The automatic door moves too slow for me. I bang my shoulder against the glass as I rush outside.

Her car is still in the parking lot but I don't see her walking toward it.

"Where did she-"

Before I can get the rest of the thought out of my mouth, something small and hard hits my side, grabs my arm and before I know what's going on I'm flipping over someone and onto my back.

All my air explodes out of my lungs, and I'm stuck for a second looking up from the ground as the object of my obsession steps over me.

"You've got three seconds to tell me why you're following me."