I STALK HER | JENLISA

FIVE

LISA
***

All it takes to find her is putting her email address and our hometown into the secure site, PeopleFinder.

I wait with bated breath as it searches.
The stupid, spinning-loading circle mocks me, keeping her hidden from my grasp for a few minutes.

My heartbeat races, unsteady in my chest, when it finally spits out the results.

Her.

You.

Jennie.

It took me all of two minutes to find you.

This is what you wanted, why you left your email.

Such a dangerous game you’re playing.

My blood pulses so hard through my body.

I throb with anticipation as I click on her social media links.

There you are, out there for us all to look at.

An array of images fill my screen, inviting me into her life.

So young, like I suspected, but I didn’t think you would be so fucking beautiful. So fucking perfect.

Her name slips through my lips like it’s supposed to be spoken from them. Jennie.

She has sixty-five friends.

Most of them are from her school.

Her date of birth suggests she should have left school a year ago. She’s nineteen.

So young.

I dissect her page, learning everything I can from it.

It shows me that you’re a completely different person now compared to who you used to be.

That smile is vacant, those eyes tormented.

Her profile tells a story.

She wasn’t always this meek, broken girl.

She was once happy, popular, and hopeful.

But something changed two years ago.

What changed, my sweet Jennie?

I go back to the PeopleFinder results and see an address.

A local search tells me it’s owned by a Karen Kim.

Your mother?

I take a photo of the address and save the recent photo of her.

You’re in a pair of barely there jean shorts and a white vest top that shows your erect nipples through the fabric.

You’re leaning against a motorcycle and biting your lower lip.

Dark hair sits around your shoulders and flirts with your waist.

Do you know how tempting you are?

***

I stare up at the small, two-story property. An old Chevy is stationed in the driveway.

The lights are on inside, and I can make out a TV flicking through the drapes of the living room.

Are you in there?

I bring up the image I saved of her on my phone and study it.

My finger stroking down her pretty, divine face. Flawlessness.

Pale skin, dark hair, feline eyes, petite nose and good lips.

An angel with broken wings.

I can see the pain in her eyes, seeking rescue from her life.

My cock throbs from the confines of my slacks, demanding attention just thinking about it.

Sweet, fucking Jennie. I need to know you, and you want me to know you, otherwise why be so available for me to find?

Unzipping my slacks, I pull my cock free, and spit on my palm and take it in my tight fist, squeezing the tip punishingly before loosening the hold and stroking down the shaft.

I imagine tears in your feline eyes, your breath quickening, that bottom lip quivering as your heart splutters in your chest when you realize I’m coming for you.

Boo, little Jennie.