“Perfect. Where are they?”
“To the left at the end of the hall.”
“Okay.”
I had to admit she was right. The stairwell was dim, musty, and obviously not well used. I grimaced as I hurried down the steps, opening the door to the back of the building. I rushed along the alley, coming up the side of the building beside hers. I peered around the corner at the doorway in question. I waited a moment until I saw another slight movement.
The bastard was in the doorway, staring up at her apartment. I moved farther down the block, then crossed the street and came up beside the building, startling him when I stepped inside the doorway.
“Looking for someone?” I addressed the hooded figure.
His low curse and the way he backed into the corner let me know he had zero awareness of his surroundings. He had been too focused on trying to catch a glimpse of Raven.
“Fuck off,” he muttered. “None of your business.”
“Oh, but it is. The woman you followed earlier and whom you’re stalking at this moment is very much my business, Andy.”
The use of his name startled him even more and he tried to rush past me, but I blocked him.
“You are going to leave her alone. She’s not interested. She’s been polite about it, but not anymore. You leave her alone, or you’ll answer to me.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he bluffed. “I was standing here to get out of the rain for a bit. I’m waiting for a friend to pick me up.”
“It’s not raining, and your friend is really late. As in, never coming. I suggest you fucking walk away, or you’re going to find yourself in more shit than you can handle.”
I held up my phone, and he cursed, holding up his hands to cover his face from the flashlight I illuminated. I got a decent look at him, committing his features to memory. “That woman you’ve been bothering is under my protection. Leave her alone. I’ll only warn you once. I see you again, I won’t hold back.”
He made a noise between a huff and a snarl. I felt the hate rolling off him. The frustration. “You don’t want to mess with me, asshole,” I added. “Leave and don’t come back. Find another hobby besides bothering women not interested in you.” I paused. “Try bingo. I hear that’s riveting.”
With a curse, he pushed off and rushed away. I stepped away from the building, watching his retreat with narrowed eyes. I wished I had some gadgets with me. A tracker. A Taser. Something useful. I resisted the urge to follow him. I could find out more using my brain, my computer, and my hacking skills.
But first, I had to make sure Raven was okay.
Something crunched under my foot, and I looked down at the glass I had trod on. I crouched, picking up a piece, realizing it was a lightbulb. I checked out the fixture inside the door, not surprised to see the broken bulb. I made a mental note to check the cameras in the area and find out when the streetlight went down as well. I had a feeling it, as well as the light fixture, had had a helping hand in its destruction. Andy had made himself a perfect place to spy on Raven.
I returned to Raven’s building, buzzing her apartment. She let me up and was waiting at her door, looking anxious.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Before I could respond, she threw her arms around me, hugging me hard. “I was worried.”
It felt natural to hold her close. I couldn’t resist lowering my head to brush a kiss on her crown and breathe her in. Her hair smelled like summer—flowers and sunshine. It was light and airy, and I liked it a lot.
“I’m fine,” I assured her.
“Was he there?”
“Yes. But he’s gone.”
She burrowed closer, and I felt her shiver.
“I scared him, and I warned him to leave you alone. He backed off, and I hope he got the message.”
She didn’t speak, and I tucked her closer. “I need you to show me your profile on the site, okay?”
With a small sigh, she eased back and went inside. I followed her to the table, looking around as she booted up her laptop. The apartment was small but tidy. The walls were white, the furniture older but comfortable-looking. There was lots of wicker and cushions. Blankets draped over the back of the sofa, the arm of the chair. A bookcase overflowing with books. More on a table. A pile on the floor by the armchair. Various throw rugs were scattered on the wooden floors. It was feminine and pretty. Like her. The kitchen was tiny but organized. Pots and kitchen utensils hung on the one wall from a pegboard. The appliances were old, but gleamed.
“Here,” she said, pushing the laptop my way.