Chapter Sixteen

Mallory

The early morning light shines through my window and its beams land directly on my face. I stir awake and am blinded by the intensity of the glare coming off the glass. I roll over in bed, pulling the blanket up and over my head. How could I have been so careless and stupid last night? Engaging in whatever that was with my stalker will only drive his obsession with me to new heights. He is also a massive asshole. He got off and then left, just like I was worried he would do. Just like society tells us that men only want one thing, and when they get it you’re history. Ghost is such a gigantic, itchy asshole. I doubt I’ll ever see him again now. I’m pissed. Screaming into my pillow doesn’t help to relieve any of the tension I’m feeling. After he basically evaporated into thin air, I spent an embarrassingly long time trying to finish myself off. Every time I thought I was almost there, self-doubt would creep in, every insecurity would surface, and I would tumble back down the mountain. Forever unable to reach the peak and fall into orgasmic bliss.

Lugging myself out of bed, I head over to close the curtains. Seeing the remnants of our last two encounters has the butterflies reawakening in my belly. What the hell, Mallory? You’re supposed to be mad at him. My mounting frustration is itching for an outlet. I’m going to clean that fucking window today and paint the library. That should hopefully burn off all the pent-up emotions I’m drowning in. Snapping the black, velvety curtains shut, I turn and leave the room. Coffee first, as always, and then I’ll do a coat of paint. Then clean the windows and do a second coat. If that doesn’t ward off my feelings, then I have laundry to fold and a post office to go to. My day is filling up fast, so much for relaxing and enjoying my days off.

∞∞∞

I am dripping sweat and splattered with little drops of the dark purple paint, but the room looks so much better already. The nagging urge to wash my bedroom window hasn’t gone away. It's actually gotten much worse, like a constant brain itch. The longer I wait, the more of a chance there is that Ghost will show up. If he’s even still interested in me anymore after last night. Should I even care? Probably not. Then why do I want to see him again?

I chug down a glass of water and splash some on my face to cool myself down. Looking out the kitchen window, I scan my backyard. I don’t see him or anyone else. He won ’ t be outside, right? It ’ s the middle of the day. He probably has a day job since I only see him at night. I’m sure it will be fine, I ’ ll try to be quick. I ’ ll just need to get the ladder from the shed but that won ’ t be too hard. Okay, psyching myself up, I put my earbuds in, grab my glass cleaner and cloth and head outside.

Ghost

Oh, this is new. She ’ s actually outside today. See, I ’ m doing good things for her already. She ’ s dug the ladder out and is dragging it across the lawn. Clearly not giving a shit about the trench she ’ s creating behind her from the legs of the ladder gouging the ground as she makes her way to her bedroom window. What is she doing? She props the ladder up against the house and heads for the hose, dragging it closer to the window. Oh, fuck no. She will not erase my marks upon her life. She turns the nozzle and no water comes out, there is a kink, I can see it from here. There ’ s a steady drip leaking out from where the spray gun is attached to the hose and it ’ s like I can see what happens next in slow motion. With the sprayer still in her hand, she uses her other hand to untangle the hose. What I can only imagine is ice cold water starts spraying out from under the poorly attached nozzle, causing her to tense up and pull the trigger. Effectively drenching her entire body. She ’ s fucking screaming. She ’ s shocked and pissed and it ’ s hilarious.

She stomps over to the tap and turns it off. Removing her ear buds, she goes to place them next to her phone over on the front step. She struggles for the next few minutes to try and get the nozzle aligned properly but it continues to leak no matter what. Giving up, she goes back to the window and opens the ‘A’ shaped ladder. She ’ s dripping water all over it as she starts to climb. By the third step she slips. She catches herself but my heart has jumped into my throat and my anxiety is increasing. She climbs back down, thank the Lord, I doubt she would let her stalker drive her to the hospital after she falls and breaks a leg. She ’ s wrung out her hair and put it in a bun that ’ s reminiscent of the day we met. Then she does something I never would have expected; she takes off her shirt, it makes a wet smacking sound as it hits the ground in a pile. Fuck me. Her wet leggings hug her form like a second skin and it ’ s taking all of my willpower not to emerge from the trees.

She runs off to the shed, disappearing inside. What ’ s she doing? She emerges with a few rags in her hand. Ah, smart girl, I know those converse high tops have no grip and you don ’ t want to be punished for making the same mistake twice. She ’ s bent over now, drying off the rungs of the ladder and my cock is ready to rip a hole through my pants to get to her. Up she goes, spraying the glass cleaner thoroughly over the pane as she gets higher. Working from the top in a downward swipe she erases my marks. Her beautiful body is on display as she cleans the right half of the glass. Finished, she climbs down and moves to the other side. As she ascends I grab my mask from my back pocket and slide it on.

I move quickly and quietly across the yard. I want her cornered on that ladder, unable to escape me. I ’ m almost there, she ’ s so oblivious, such a good little prey. I see the moment she realizes she ’ s not alone anymore, she tenses and holds her breath. Oh it ’ s too late for you, love, you ’ re mine now. I know she can see me in the reflection of the glass, it ’ s squeaky clean now. There's no smudges to obscure the predator that ’ s inching up the ladder behind her.