Stalk Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #1)

“I’ve got a van out back. We’re going to do great things together.”


How do I know that voice? Why does it sound familiar?

Wait. He’s taking me to a van out back?

What. The. Fuck.

I scream bloody murder. “AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

But no one can hear me.

Except the stalker.

“Stop screaming. No one can hear you over the music,” he says coldly.

I realize he’s right. I don’t stand a chance. No one can hear me.

Something I see out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.

It’s the stalker’s arm.

I see the end of a scrolly tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve.

I know that tattoo. How do I know that tattoo?

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

It’s the Y on Vincent’s Abby tattoo.

It’s Vincent.

Vincent’s tattoo.

Vincent’s voice.

Vincent, who thinks I look just like my mom did when he fell in love with her. Vincent, who wants to make a movie with me. Mom’s movie.

Vincent is the stalker?

Could that be right?

I wriggle myself around so that I’m facing him.

“Vincent! What are you doing? Stop it! Let go of me!”

I make my body go limp, so that it will be heaver, and I drag my feet behind me. But he’s strong, and all that happens is that I lose one of my gorgeous shoes.

He says coldly, “Don’t act so surprised. I told you the other day I was going to get you locked in. We’re going to make a movie together and have all sorts of fun. I know you want it as much as I do.”

I start to shake as I think about all the things he told me. All the things that felt flattering. I see them in a new light. And in that light, they are not pretty. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

The music is still playing loudly.

There’s no one to save me. No one to help me.

Tears start streaming down my face.

What am I going to do?

The locket James gave me swings in front of my face, and I hear a quiet voice speak to me.

A voice that I haven’t heard for so long.

My dad’s voice.

It’s both soothing and serious.

You can’t let him get you out the door. Whatever you do, don’t let him get you out the door.

Vincent grabs my wrist tighter and pulls me in closer to his body. Like he’s shielding me from what’s behind us.

The door keeps getting closer.

You don’t have much time.

I have to get him to stop.

“Stop. Please, Vincent. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. I promise I’ll make the movie with you. Just please don’t do this. Please.”

He doesn’t stop.

And he doesn’t reply.

He just keeps dragging me, closer and closer to the door.

When we’re almost to the door, he says, “I want you, and I’m going to have you. All to myself.”

We’re right in front of the big black exit door.

He stops to push it open.

This is your last chance. Remember P.E.? The defensive move they taught you.

Use it.

Do it now.

A rush of adrenaline suddenly courses through my body. I pick my foot up then smash the heel of the shoe I’m still wearing into the top of Vincent’s foot with as much force as I can muster.

It’s a stupid defensive move we learned in Freshman P.E.

But it works.

Vincent’s grip loosens.

Just enough.

I quickly pull away.

Run.

I break completely free of his arms, turn, and run as fast as I can. I run straight into James and another security guy.

“That’s the stalker! He’s trying to kidnap me!” I turn around and point at Vincent.

His glasses are still on, and he’s racing toward me.

James hands me off.

Then he and Vincent come face to face.

Vincent holds his hands up in protest and starts to say something, but James punches him in the face, knocking his glasses off.

I watch Vincent and James trade punches.

James falls back for a minute, but then his training kicks in.

In a fury of fists and kicks, Vincent is down and out cold.

James flips him over and wraps his wrists together with zip ties.

I drop to my knees.

And throw up my birthday cake.





Not a party ’til someone pukes.

1:15am





I’m sitting on a couch in the family room wrapped up in a blanket. Brooklyn is in Tommy’s office on the phone with his dad. Damian has his arm wrapped around my shoulder, and my head is buried in his chest. My eyes are closed and I’m shaking, but I’m not cold. After the adrenaline rush I feel like I’m crashing. Kind of like I drank four Red Bulls all at once and got the caffeine, but not the energy.

I’m pretending not to listen, but I’m hanging on every word that’s said.

Everyone is pacing and talking.

Mom is freaking out.

Two police detectives are here, as is Garrett Smith, the head of the personal security firm that was in charge of protecting Mom tonight. No one has asked for my side of the story.

It’s been all about James.

James saw a man pulling me toward the exit. James saw me stomp on his foot and get away. I told James it was the stalker. James tackled and punched him. James had him arrested.