Yet, it wasn't dread of that huffing and puffing flight of stairs that had her desire shutting off abruptly. It was the sight of smeared letters, running in red rivulets, on the white portal and inset glass pane that made her heart drop.
Bitch slut. Only one person ever called her that.
How could he have found her? She'd fled across the country. Taken on an apartment without a lease. Nothing was in her name. And yet, that message, that level of hate … She knew of only one person who'd do this.
The knowledge that Gregory might lurk killed any thoughts of spending a pleasant evening with the man by her side. She couldn't draw Arik into the messy thing known as her life. But what excuse could she use to foist Arik off? Somehow saying, "You need to leave because my psycho ex-boyfriend might be stalking me," didn't seem like a great way to end an evening that should have finished in her bed with a lot less clothing.
Not to mention, being a guy, Arik would probably go all macho on her and insist on protecting her. Men did so love to beat on their chests to proclaim their superiority to others, which might prove sexy-especially if shirtless-but was not what she needed right now.
So how to douse the sizzle he still felt, and escape? She knew only one sure-fire way to dampen his libido. The ultimate cock blocker: good ol' Mom. "Shoot, you can't come up tonight. I'm afraid I just remembered I've got to call my mother. She's having some big premenopausal issues, you know hot flashes and stuff. I kind of promised we'd chat later tonight. Completely forgot. Real sorry. We'll have to get together another time," she blurted out in a rapid stream of words as she let herself out of Arik's truck.
Before she could stand before the door to cover the graffiti, she felt a presence at her back. Automatic fear had her squeak until she realized it was simply Arik, who'd moved more rapidly than expected. Somehow he'd exited his vehicle without her hearing and stood looming over her. Knowing it was him did nothing to quell her rapidly beating heart.
"I told you before not to lie to me."
She whirled and tried to stand in front of the evidence and reason for her lie. "Okay, so maybe my mother's not expecting a call. I just didn't want to hurt your feelings by saying I changed my mind. Woman's prerogative you know." It sounded weak even to her and didn't budge him one inch.
Amber eyes fixed her. "Move."
"What for?"
"So I can see what you're hiding."
"Me? Hiding something?" She tried an innocent bat of her lashes.
It didn't work. With a hand placed on either side of her waist, he hefted her and put her out of the way, revealing the dripping message in all its profane glory.
"What the heck is that?" He stabbed a finger at the door.
"Teenagers bringing down property values," she said, followed by a feeble attempt at a laugh.
He didn't buy it, judging by his frown. "This isn't a random message. It's aimed at you, and it's got you scared."
"No, I'm not." She should have known better than to fib. Her mother always did say she sucked at it.
Arik didn't buy it for a second. "I'm not an idiot. You're scared because you know who left this."
"Maybe," she hedged. He crossed his arms and stared her down. It was impressive as stares went. She shrugged. "Okay, so I have an inkling. But it should be impossible. He's supposed to be out west. There's no way he could know where I am."
"‘He' being the ex-boyfriend that didn't end well?"
She shrugged. "It's possible, or this really could just be a random act of neighborhood art."
"Art is actual images or initials, not the words bitch slut smeared in blood."
She winced as he said it aloud. But then his words penetrated. Blood? Surely not. She bit her lower lip in worry. "We don't know that it's blood. It could be ketchup."
"I work with meat. I know blood when I see it. Has this guy threatened you before?"
How much to tell him? Already, Arik seemed awfully mad. Not at her, though. Someone was pumped up on testosterone, a true male reacting to a perceived threat. Cute, but did she really need another man in her life causing chaos? Even if Arik offered her protection, she wasn't sure she wanted his help. Having him around, possibly where Gregory could see him, would just cause more trouble.
Gregory had deep jealousy issues. Real deep. Only one of the many reasons why she'd dumped him. Problem was, Gregory didn't take the rejection well.
"It's nothing you have to worry about. It's my problem, and I'll deal with it. I'll contact the local cops and see if his restraining order only applies for my old place of residence. If I can't have it transferred, then I'll just get a new one. Problem solved."
A muscle ticked on the side of his jaw. "Not problem solved. This guy's obviously a nut job if he's followed you across the continent just to threaten you."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call this a threat, more like a judgment on my character."
Was that a growl she heard?
"Kira, why are you deliberately downplaying this?"
"Because this isn't your problem. It's mine, okay? And one I should have apparently dealt with instead of running away. Stupid me, I thought if I left, the whole out-of-sight, out-of-mind thing would work. That Gregory would leave me alone. I was wrong. So now I'll deal with it. Alone."
His lips tightened. "Not alone."
"Yes, alone. This has nothing to do with you. We're not a couple, remember? Which means you have no say in my personal life, and this is personal. So now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go upstairs, call the cops, and deal with this. By myself."
With that, she unlocked her door and let herself into the tiny vestibule. She whirled to slam the door shut behind her, making sure to lock it while ignoring Arik's stare through the blood-marked glass. And, yes, he stared. Silently, but still his eyes drilled a message that she felt between her shoulder blades as she trudged up the stairs, one that said, You're being stubborn.
Yup. But she couldn't help herself. Blame her mother who'd raised her that way.
When she got to the top of the stairs, huffing and puffing, the steepness still not any easier than the first time she'd tackled them, she could admit to herself a hiccup of fear as the closed door to her apartment taunted her. What lay beyond it? Safety, or did she walk into danger?
Maybe I should have had Arik come up with me, just to check.
I'm a big girl. I can handle this. She, and the can of mace she pulled from her purse. She held it in a ready-to-spray position as she let herself into her apartment.
Nobody jumped out at her, which meant she didn't have to change her panties. Kegels tightly clenched, she immediately flicked a light switch and illuminated the tiny entrance. Still nobody, but there were too many shadows for her liking, dark corners where anything, or anyone, could hide.
Practically hyperventilating, she turned on every single lamp she had, even the bathroom vanity lights. Nobody lurked in the corners, nobody popped out of her closet or flung back the shower curtain brandishing a knife to the music from Psycho.
The undisturbed apartment should have proven reassuring, yet the fear wouldn't vanish.
He knows where I am. He hasn't given up.
What would Gregory do next?
Unlike what she'd told Arik, she didn't bother calling the cops. She already knew what they'd say. Until Gregory did something, they couldn't act. The message on her door wouldn't count. She couldn't prove he'd left the bloody message, just like she couldn't prove all the other things he'd done back home-the dead flowers on her front step, the slashed tires on her car. When it came to stalking-and inspiring terror-Gregory played the game all too well.
Alone, with no one to watch, or judge, Kira finally gave in to trembling fear. It took over her limbs, turning muscles into quivering jelly, and sent her slumping to the floor. But she didn't note the hardness under her buttocks or the coldness of the plaster as she leaned against the wall-a wall that would prevent a sneak attack from behind. She drew her knees to her chest and hugged them, rocking slowly as tears streamed down her cheeks. Relief and terror all rolled into one.
She might have played the part of strong, capable woman to Arik, but the truth was Kira was terrified.
In moving hundreds of miles, she'd truly hoped to have left her past behind. For a moment that evening, with Arik teasing and delighting all her senses, she'd almost let herself think about giving Arik a little more than just her body. Maybe she could think of starting over.
Wrong. She couldn't move on with her life. Not now. Not with Arik. Not with anyone. Heck, if it weren't for the fact she'd need her paycheck from the barbershop, she'd be packing a bag and fleeing tonight.