That was a year ago, her mind argued. And aren’t there lots of shirts like that? Don’t a lot of men wear them because they love their muscles? She’d thought about that every time she saw that—couldn’t they find a slightly larger shirt with sleeves that didn’t pinch? Of course they could.
That belt looked like his belt—she was a little too familiar with that belt. The shoes, she’d been with him when he bought them—Tommy Bahama—just ordinary loafers but they cost a fortune. She barely knew him then. It was the day of their one and only official date and she’d been impressed. How many people could have that hair, that shirt, that belt, those shoes?
The man was with a woman. A girl, really. His hand was gently guiding her at the small of her back and she had long blond hair.
I had long blond hair then, Sierra remembered.
The girl was laughing, happy to be with him. Would she be happy tomorrow?
Sierra worked those crutches hard, following him because as much as she didn’t want him to know she was there, she needed to know if it was really him. She moved over to the side of the mall walkway, closer to the storefronts in case she had to dart inside to avoid him. She tried to stay a little bit out of sight.
That gait, the way he walked—it had to be him. His heels lifted a little more than necessary with each step—the swagger. His confidence showed in his walk. He was headed for the same exit she would use, but she followed anyway. She kept what she thought was a safe distance—he didn’t know she was in Colorado. And why would he be looking for her at this late date?
The man reached the exit door and he turned toward his companion. Derek, the bastard, didn’t have a nose that big! Did he? She was frozen. Her eyes were probably huge. She didn’t know if it was him or not.
He turned to look over his shoulder, typical. She remembered thinking that was odd about him, always looking behind himself like that, careful to see if anyone was following him, looking at him, looking for him. She thought it was odd until he committed a crime, then she got it.
Before she could study the face more closely, she turned her face away, looking down, her brown hair making a canopy over her profile, concealing her. She waited a few long seconds. She slowly turned, peeking through the strands of her hair.
Gone.
She had to wait a bit before she could dare follow. Maybe it was him. Just in case it was him, he must not see her. He would come right to her, smiling as though they were friends, long-lost friends. He would talk fast, smile broadly, maneuver her away from help or escape, mesmerize her and manipulate her, try to make her think he’s okay, not just okay but good for her. By the time she got to the exit doors, there was no sign of them. She watched the parking lot from inside the glass doors. She didn’t recognize any people or vehicles.
“Maybe I’ve just lost my mind,” she said to herself.
That’s when she realized she’d dropped her packages somewhere. They were gone. She went back the way she’d come—no sign of them. A mall security guard directed her to the lost and found. There were no packages turned in, of course, but they took her name and cell number.
She decided to leave. She sat in the pumpkin for a while, devastated over the loss of a book, a pair of shorts and a onesie. Her throat burned.
Or maybe it was over almost seeing the most dangerous man she’d ever known...
*
It was the first thaw of spring in Michigan. It was fifty-five degrees that afternoon and she went to her favorite pub to enjoy drinks on the patio with her peeps. The new guy picked her out immediately and they were together all evening. He was so handsome, all the girls were interested, but he chose her. She wouldn’t let him come home with her but she did give him her number and she was pathetically thrilled when he called her the very next morning. He showed up at her office building where she worked in accounting for an independent insurance carrier. Her boss was annoyed but then her boss, a middle-aged woman with a stick up her butt, was never happy anyway. Derek wanted to know if he could take her to lunch. Of course he could!
It was much later that she wondered how he had found her. Picked her out like that. Had she told him where she worked? She must have. How else could he have found her? She brushed off the curiosity because who knew what she’d tell someone when she’d been a little lit up with mojitos. Mojitos, a spring drink.
He met her after work. He got sulky when she wouldn’t let him spend the night so she tried to make it up to him by being extra sweet and it worked—he went back into Prince Charming mode. Called and texted all the time.
He was fascinating—he dropped out of law school to enlist. Since one of her brothers was a lawyer and the other a captain in the Army, they had something to talk about. He told her how he went to Afghanistan and ended up being trained in special ops as an undercover officer. When he got out of the military, he worked under civilian contract as a...well...the civilian version of a spy, flying all over the world for special projects with a team of specialists. He had grown up in an interesting family—his father was a race car driver. Not one of the famous ones, but he’d made a good living and the family followed races all over. His mother sang backup in a country band—a pretty famous one. His grandfather, a chemist, actually invented the pregnancy test. He had trained malamutes for a while—bomb-sniffing malamutes.
At first she teased him about being Forrest Gump. Then she began to wonder how a guy barely thirty-five had time to accomplish all that. Then she stopped believing him. But it seemed like the other people in her crowd ate it up.
From that first night, he was never far away. He called, he dropped by her office, he took her to lunch, he took her out in the evening. It wasn’t long before he got into her panties and...it was awful. He had trouble getting and maintaining an erection and he grew angrier and angrier until she told him to leave. He refused and they fought until, miraculously, it rose. Then he was on a mission—he wanted to do it every which way. He wasn’t ejaculating. It wasn’t until she began to say enough is enough and pushed at him that he finally had success.