Chapter 3

Lori

Every shadow seemsto have eyes tonight, and even the whisper of the wind feels like a secret being passed along with me as the punchline. I quicken my pace, my heart thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Im not usually one to get spooked by a few creaks and poorly lit alleys, but tonight, the hairs on the back of my neck are staging their own little uprising.

Get a grip, Lori, I mutter to myself, but my sneakers slap a little too loud against the wet pavement. They echo, almost mockingly, in the empty street. Its that prickling sensation crawling up my spine, the kind you cant just shrug off. I am being watched. I know it. I’ve felt it the past few days, and I just can’t shake the feeling.

I fish out my phone, clutching it like a lifeline. The screens glow is cold comfort, but its all Ive got. My thumb hovers over the police department’s number. Officer McLean, with his chiseled jaw and those eyes that arent just brown but a whole damn autumnal forest. Hes been nothing but gentle—a real knight-in-shining-badge since we met. But knights can turn into dragons, right? Especially the ones with handcuffs.

Trust is for suckers, I remind myself. Yet theres this itch, somewhere deep beneath my ribcage—a nagging ache to lean on someone. And Officer McLean—damn him—makes it look so easy to just... believe.

My past is a scrapbook of letdowns, all thanks to the boys in blue. Promises falling through like theyre made of smoke. So why should this one be any different? He says hes got my back, but what if thats just code for pinning me against the wall once he gets bored playing hero?

I glance over my shoulder, half expecting some creep to be tailing me, but all I find is more darkness. My gut twists, and I cant help wondering if Officer McLean’s warmth is just another con. Maybe hes genuine, or maybe Im just the latest charity case in his book of good deeds. Do I really want to find out which it is?

A shiver races down my spine, and I tell myself its just the chill in the air. But deep down, I know better. Im scared, and not just of the shadows. Im terrified of letting someone in, only to watch them walk away. Or worse, to be led astray by a false sense of safety and end up shipwrecked on the rocks.

I force my legs to move faster. My breath comes out in visible puffs, each one a reminder that Im still here, still fighting.

The truth is, I want to trust Officer McLean. I want to believe that not everyone wears a mask. But wanting and having are two different beasts, and Im no stranger to the bite of disappointment.

As I round the corner, the sense of being followed ebbs, replaced by a fiercer determination. Officer McLean might be my wildcard, but Im playing this hand close to the chest. No more folding. Its time to see whether hes bluffing or if, just maybe, hes holding onto something real.

My fingers tremble like a leaf in a storm as I pull out my phone. The numbers blur before my eyes, but I punch them in anyway—9-1-1. A click, then a ring, and the hollow sound echoes in my ears, matching the hollow feeling in my gut.

Nine-one-one, whats your emergency?

Uh... My voice is a fragile thing, cracking under the weight of my fear. I think someones following me.

Can you describe the person? The dispatchers voice is calm, practiced, but it does nothing to soothe the wild dance of my pulse.

I didnt get a look. Its just a feeling, okay? But its strong. And Ive learned to trust my instincts. I glance over my shoulder for the millionth time tonight, half-expecting to see a pair of eyes glinting in the darkness.

Your location, maam?

Im on the corner of Fifth and Lexington, I say, my breath hitching. Im not used to asking for help. Its a language foreign to my tongue.

Stay where you are. An officer will be with you shortly.

Thanks, I whisper, and the line cuts. My heart thumps a staccato rhythm against my ribs. For a moment, I let myself imagine that itll be Officer McLean who comes to my rescue. I shove the thought away.

Dont be an idiot, Lori.

* * *

Doug

McLean, got a 10-90 on Fifth and Lexington. Possible stalker situation.

I snatch the walkie from its cradle, my fingers tightening around it. Roger that. Im nearby. Ill take the call.

Copy, McLean.

As soon as the dispatcher confirms, a knot forms in my stomach—part excitement, part dread.

She senses me.

I’m the one who’s been stalking Lori, and because of that I know damn well it isn’t anyone else. A tide of guilt crashes over me, but I try to push it away.

Any description of the suspect? I ask, already moving in the direction of Lori’s location.

Negative, the caller was unable to provide one.

Relief washes through me. Good. She doesn’t know it’s me.

Understood.

I’m going to be near her again. I’ll be close enough to smell her shampoo, see those puffy pink lips, those perky young tits...I push the thought aside, focusing on the duty at hand. But I cant deny the electric charge that zips through me at the possibility of seeing her again, even under these circumstances.

I get in my car. Need to make this look official.

I pull up next to Lori, my lights spinning, their silent alarm cutting through the darkness. I scan the area—empty benches, trash swirling in a gentle breeze, the occasional rustle of a newspaper from an alleyway.

Lori is tucked away in the shadow of an awning. Her form is rigid, a statue carved from tension and moonlight.

Playing hide and seek, Officer McLean? she calls out, her voice laced with a hint of mischief that doesnt quite reach her eyes.

Only if youre it, I retort, closing the distance between us. I cant help but smile. Even on edge, shes got fire. But seriously, are you okay?

She steps into the light, and damn, those green eyes of hers are like getting punched in the gut with beauty—takes your breath away every time. Im not sure yet, she admits, her gaze darting around before settling back on me. Felt like someone had their eyes on me all evening. All week actually. She shrugs as she lets out a nervous half laugh. “I’m probably just being paranoid,” she mumbles.

Want to tell me more about this mysterious admirer of yours? I keep my tone light, hoping to ease some of the fear etched into her delicate features.

Admirer? Please. If they were admiring, theyve got a funny way of showing it. She tosses her hair over her shoulder—a black cascade that makes my hands itch to touch. No flowers. No notes. Just creepy vibes.

Guess they missed the memo on modern romance. I lean against the wall beside her, close enough to share warmth, to catch the subtle scent of her perfume. Its intoxicating, and I have to remind myself to focus. You sure know how to pick em.

Ha. I dont pick anything but bad luck, it seems. Her laugh is half-hearted, and she glances up at me through thick lashes. Good thing the citys finest is here to protect me.

Always, I promise without hesitation. My hand finds its way to the small of her back, a touch meant for comfort, but it sparks something else entirely. Theres an electricity between us, undeniable, and it charges the air with possibilities.

Is that a standard part of the service? Personal bodyguard included? Her words are cheeky, but her body leans into mine just a fraction. That tiny movement might as well be a shout for how loud my heart hears it.

Depends on the risk assessment, I tease, allowing my hand to linger. And right now, Id say youre high risk.

Am I? She arches an eyebrow, playful yet daring me to admit the obvious. In what way?

In every way that matters. The look we share is heavy, loaded with unspoken words and wishes. I can feel the heat coming off her in waves, mixing with the cool night air. Its a cocktail made for trouble, and Im already drunk on her.

I clear my throat. “Well, I’ll have a look around. See if I see anyone.”

I feel like an ass. I know damn well I’m not going to find anyone cause I’m the one watching her.

Still, I go through the motions. I scan the shrub-lined perimeter, flashlight in hand—the beam slicing through the night like a sword.

Find anything suspicious yet, Officer McLean? Lori’s voice is soft and slightly vulnerable, and it slices through me.

I swallow—hard. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Must be tough, she says quietly, always having to be the protector, huh?

My chest tightens at her perceptiveness. She sees right through me, through the badge and the duty. Her gaze holds mine, and its clear shes reading every conflicting emotion etched onto my face.

Part of the job, I manage to say, though it feels like a confession. But sometimes, its hard to turn off...even when I want to.

Even with me? The moonlight catches the green in her eyes, making them shimmer with curiosity.

Especially with you, I admit, the words escaping before I can cage them.

A silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words and the hum of attraction Im trying desperately to ignore. My mind races with the professional boundaries Im toeing, the lines Im inching closer to crossing.

Can I tell you something? Lori asks, tucking a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear. Something personal?

Always. The word slips out smoother than I expect, and Im anchored to the spot by the trust shes tentatively offering.

Back at the foster homes, there were always people who...looked at me the way I felt someone watching tonight. It made my skin crawl. I learned to trust my instincts, to stay safe. Her voice is steady, but theres a tremor of past fears that doesnt escape me.

Your instincts are good, I reassure her, my own voice barely above a whisper. Youre safe with me, Lori. I promise you that.

Thank you, Officer McLean.

“Doug,” I tell her, dying to hear her say my name.

“Doug,” she says softly, and my god, the way she says my name, its like a caress, and I clench my fists to keep from reaching for her. Its just been hard to shake the feeling.

Then well shake it together, I vow, the weight of my desire battling against the shield I wear. No one gets to make you feel that way again. Not on my watch.

Her smile is hesitant, but it carves deep into me.

For a moment, were frozen, lost in each others eyes. And then Lori’s hand, soft and warm, finds mine, fingers intertwining with a tentative trust.

My breath hitches, and fire floods my entire being.

My radio crackles to life, a reminder of the world beyond our bubble. McLean, do you copy?

At first, I don’t move, my thumb caressing the back of Lori’s hand. Fuck, I can’t bear to let go, but duty calls, and with a reluctant sigh, I release her hand and reach for the radio. This is McLean. Go ahead.

Disturbance reported at 5th and Main. Need you there, stat.

Copy that. On my way. My voice is all business, but my eyes linger on Lori who’s looking up at me with those big green eyes.

Guess thats my cue.”

Go. Be the hero you are, she murmurs as she releases my hand with something like disappointment.

I hesitate before I turn back to her and bark out my address. “You come there if you ever need anything.”

Her eyes are wide as she nods silently.

My radio buzzes again, and I go with a curse.