Stalked

Chapter Twelve

Rayne POV:

"You want to know why I love you so much?" Roark asked.

"Yes." I replied.

"It wasn't four years, you know?" I frowned, hearing that. "What?" I asked. "More like eight." He replied.

"I was sixteen." I whispered. "You sick bastard." 

"I saw you by complete accident. You were walkin' to your brother's house when I saw you. I had been sittin' at a stop sign. You wore black vans, skinny jeans, and a black sweater." Roark told me.

"It's been eight years and you remember what I was wearin'?" I asked.

Why am I torturing myself by listening to him?

When I turned cops were flooding the living room, setting up everything to track his signal, which means I had to keep talking.

"Of course, I do. I remember every little detail about you, Rayne. You were cryin'. All I wanted to do was hold you and make the tears go away." He told me, making me shiver.

I didn't want to hear anymore. I closed my eyes, trying to prevent the anxiety attack that was threatening to take over.

"I knew then that you needed me." He told me.

"That's when you started to follow me." I said. "Yes."

"Then that... boy  that made you cry was talkin' to you. He was makin' you cry all over again."

My eyes widened. 

"You killed him?" I almost yelled into the phone. "I did." He replied.

I looked back at the officers in the living room.

"Hang up." One spoke.

I quickly did as I was told and slid down the wall.

I felt two arms wrap around me, and I looked up to see Andy.

I hadn't even realized he came back.

"It's a burner, Detective. We can't trace it." An officer said, guilt in his voice.

"He's smart. I'll give him that." Andy mumbled. 

I closed my eyes, tears coming to them as I plopped down on the couch.

I felt the seat on the couch next to me sink.

I looked up and saw Andy sitting next to me, then the tears began to spill over.

"What now, Andy?" I whispered. "We'll figure it out." He replied, gently rubbing my back.

That night, while I was getting ready for bed, I bent down to rinse my mouth of the toothpaste, and when I stood, there he was behind me. Roark had that scary wide smile on his face.

"Andy!" I screamed and turned, but nothing was there.

I heard Andy's footsteps stomp quickly up the stairs.

He rushed into the room and grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him while he looked around the bathroom.

Andy turned and looked at me, confused. No one was in the bathroom.

"Andy, I swear Roark was here. He was." I sobbed, begging him to believe me.

"Baby, he's not here. You're PTSD is makin' you see things." He told me and hugged me.

"I'm sick of bein scared." I mumbled into his chest. "I know you are." Andy replied.

"He won't be caught. If he is, he will just escape like last time." I told him. "No, he won't. I'll make sure of that." He told me. "You said that last time." I said, flatly before laying back down.

I gave up. It had been five long years, and I'd had enough.

I quit trying.