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Chapter 13: Stalking Prey pt 2
Last Updated:
2023-02-19 04:00:00
ADB_StoriesWho is following Alina and why?
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It’s been three weeks of watching Lowell’s every move and it only proceeded to get more boring, so I decided to move up my timeline. Aside from occasionally ordering-in food, nothing in Lowell’s routine has changed. So, armed with the information Mikhail acquired for me, plus everything I learned from tailing this guy – which isn’t much – and the observations I’ve made from monitoring the person tailing me, I’ve decided to strike tonight instead of a week from now. Nothing was going to change between here and then and while in any other case, I wouldn’t speed things up, I know this situation calls for it. With Crimson already strapped to my ankle holster hidden by my denim jeans, I pull my gun from my glove compartment, check it, slip it behind me in the waistband of my pants and pull my black leather jacket over it. I zip up my jacket and adjust my sherpa collar and get out as soon as I see Alec exiting his apartment. It’s busier the closer he gets to the restaurant, so I plan to ma
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Once I park in the underground parking lot I curse the fact I’ve left bloody hand marks all over the steering wheel. Goddammit! I really didn’t want stains in my car. I quickly grab a bottle of water and some tissues from the glove compartment and wipe down the steering wheel and clean up my hand. I’ll do a more thorough job later. Now I just have to get this guy into my apartment. I grab my leather gloves and put them on to disguise any more blood that may trickle down my arm. I then get out, get into the elevator, and stop at my floor, but instead of going to my apartment, I rush and knock on my neighbour’s door. I’m aware of who all my neighbours are; leave no stone unturned as they say. After a moment, I hear someone walk to the door, followed by silence, then the sound of chains moving. “Rachel? I didn’t know you were in town. Is everything okay?” Asks fifty-two-year-old John Anderson as he opens the door. Retired construction worker, divorced, two children, both who live out o
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It’s 9:03 am when Alec’s eyes begin to open. It takes him a moment to adjust to his surroundings, but then he spots me leaning against the wall opposite the bed and he immediately becomes alert. It’s a struggle to not smirk or laugh. He’s quite amusing. “How long have you been watching me sleep?” He asks uncomfortably, his voice a little croaky from sleep. “Seven minutes.” “That’s creepy,” he states, scrunching his nose. The way he scrunches his nose is kind of cute. “Creepier than trying to kill you?” I ask raising my eyebrow. “I suppose not,” he snorts. “For someone with your rap sheet, you’re awful jumpy,” I taunt him. His jaw clenches and he looks up at the ceiling. Hit a nerve I see. I remain still and silent and after a few minutes this begins to bother him. “Have you decided if you’re going to kill me or not?” He asks in a soft voice. He sounds so… defeated and his face looks lost in thought. “I’m leaning towards not.” His head snaps to mine in shock, “What? Why?” “I
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For the most part, I’m completely oblivious to the injury to my arm, but there are moments when I shift a certain way and I’m quickly reminded last night I took a bullet to the shoulder before I block out the thought again. The pain from injuries doesn’t bother me, it’s just how much of an impediment they can be at times. But at least I’m still alive. I’m packing my suitcase in the bedroom when there’s a fast knocking at my door. Can honestly say I don’t get many visitors… okay, I never get visitors. Especially at 10:45 at night. I walk to the living room and grab Crimson from the coffee table. Come on, I’m not going to fire a gun in an apartment building, do I look like I’m trying to draw attention to myself? There’s another urgent knock at the door as I walk over and look through the peephole. I unlock and open the door, “Didn’t I just get rid of you?” “You were right. They tried to kill me,” Alec says, panting. There’s sweat on his brow, and his skin looks clammy and a sickly c
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I smile wide as I see John’s face, “John, what a nice surprise. Is everything alright?” I ask with genuine concern. “Everything is fine,” he says with a bright smile of his own. “I’ve heard your TV on lately and assumed you were still home. Wanted to come by and check on you. How did everything go with your boyfriend?” He asks wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I chuckle and open the door wider, “See for yourself,” I say pointing to Alec who is now gaping at me in shock. “Please come in.” John walks in and over to Alec with his hand extended. I shut the door as Alec stands and instinctively shakes John’s hand while throwing me a look of confusion. “John, this is Alec, Alec this is my neighbour John. He’s the one who helped me bring you up here the other night when you were passed out drunk,” I say with a grin. Alec’s head snaps to me so fast I thought it might break. He looks utterly shocked, and I don’t bother to hide my amusement. “You sure did a number on yourself, young man. To
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He carries me to the bedroom and gently lays me down against the sheets, pushing my laptop onto the floor. All I can hear is our loud breathing and my blood pumping in my ears. He kisses along my jaw and down my neck, heat shooting through me each time his lips connect with my skin. His next kiss is just below my collarbone, and I can’t stop the shiver than runs through me as my breathing hitches. I can feel him smiling against my skin realising he found my sweet spot. He slowly runs his tongue below my collarbone and I let out another moan. My hands make their way down his toned clothed body to his ass. I slide my hands inside his joggers and briefs and squeeze his bare ass pulling him forward, eager for friction and he gives it to me. He presses himself against my pussy and I can feel just how hard he is and it’s making my pussy throb in anticipation and need. His lips make their way back up my neck and his hands dive under my top. His hands feel so soft against my skin, and I just
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An answer to my question is given when another man enters my room, this time pushing the most compact, futuristic electric chair I’ve ever seen. It’s really just a small seat on top of big tyres, there’s not much to it, and nowhere near as bulky or cumbersome as the kind you see the elderly use. It has a joystick control, black leather lining and white exterior. I glare at the contraption with clear disdain. I’m reduced to an electric wheelchair because they won’t just let me go. Can’t walk or do shit, but still expected to make an appearance. I’ll be a sitting duck. Before the doctor administers the nerve block, he changes the bandages on my hands for a thinner, skin-coloured bandage, then the women help me into a one-shoulder floor-length lilac glittering sequined gown with a sweetheart bust and a slit up to my hip on my left side. It’s stunning and hugs my body perfectly. My hair is styled in a large intricate updo that appears full and voluminous while also being sleek. My nails m
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I feel myself start to wake up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes. The more alert my senses become the more aware I am of the pain and heaviness radiating through my body. I feel like I was thrown off a cliff and smashed against jagged rocks over and over and over again, but that’s just my body. My feet are another story. Tears prick my shut eyes as the excruciating sensation of raw nerve endings being exposed hits me and I want to scream. The only thing stopping me is how weak I feel. I force my eyes open and thankfully am met by a dim light at the far end of the room. I can hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping its infuriating rhythm, but one that reminds me I’m alive. I see several IV bags hung up, and as I attempt to glance down I notice the oxygen mask on my face. My body is wrapped up tight in shiny silver heat sheets and blankets like a little human burrito. Everything except my feet. My feet are suspended in harnesses, covered in some kind of cream. Even from here, I can s
