I swallow, deciding not to ask him why he’s here. I think it’s obvious. He’s a psychopath, that’s why.
“Is there something you need?” I ask, trying to sound more like I’m concerned for his welfare than scared out of my wits. My hand rests on the end of my stun gun that is holstered to my belt.
Pretzel Guy stops and crosses his arms. “You know? I do need something. I need to know if you’re ever going to stop playing games with me. I guess I need to take matters into my own hands. That’s why, when I left work, I parked across the street and walked all the way back here in the freezing rain. Can you believe what I do for you? Every night I wait around just to say hello, just to let you flirt with me.”
Not yet, Millie. Don’t knock his ass down just yet. He’s watching you.
“I…h-have a boyfriend,” I breathe.
“Oh, Millie,” he chuckles. “I think you’ve been misled. Whoever that was, whoever was on the phone with you? That’s not your boyfriend. No suitable boyfriend would ever coerce his girl to masturbate in public.”
So, he saw everything. Great. It’s likely he’s been watching me all night.
Then my stomach drops to the floor like I’m hurdling down the big hill on a roller coaster when I realize something. “The cameras,” I whisper.
“That’s right? Smart girl. I knew you were perfect for me. I’ve been dicking with the cameras for weeks, just to see how long it would take corporate to fix them. Turns out, they don’t give a shit about you. Unlike me. It’s pretty easy to see I’m the only one looking out for you. That’s why I’m here. To protect you, Millie.”
I try to sound breezy. “Protect me from what?”
“You don’t even know my name, do you?”
“In fairness, I don’t think you’ve ever introduced yourself. You just showed up and started talking to me in the parking lot one day. Word to the wise, don’t walk up to women in parking lots. You could get yourself hurt if they don’t know you’re harmless.”
He laughs. “You’re adorable, you know that? I like a woman who talks back.”
Pretzel Guy grips my upper arm with one beefy hand and pulls me away from the wall. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”
This guy must be utterly bonkers if he thinks I’m going to let him take me to a second location, especially when the first location is a dark, abandoned shopping mall.
See, Paul? I say telepathically to my coworker. This is what happens when you call in sick.
“Well, actually, I need to finish checking the locks on all the doors first, and then we can go find a quiet place to talk, OK?”
His tone turns angry and he spits out, “You didn’t seem too concerned about doing your job when you were fingering yourself right out here in public, did you? Not very ladylike, was it? Well, now you’re with me, and I’ll teach you quickly how a lady behaves…”
That word—ladylike—does something to me. I guess you could say I’m triggered. Everything turns several shades of red and the angry bile rises in my throat. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but this? Him putting his hands on me, slut shaming me and stalking me? Not. Fucking. Tonight.
A distant clattering noise startles us both. My hand acts on its own just as Pretzel Guy’s eyes flick away from me.
I point and shoot, with no plans to ask any questions later.
Chapter Twelve
David
I do the only thing I can think to do. I pick up my bike, start it up, and position myself far enough away to reach the highest speed my bike can go. Careful not to slide on the ice this time, I barrel straight toward the accessibility ramp that leads from the parking lot, up the sidewalk, and straight toward the glass doors as fast as I can go.
Praying I don’t die. Praying that this isn’t the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I need not have worried about the glass. The glass breaks all right. The locked metal frame, however, doesn’t budge. The bike crashes into the bottom of the door frame and my body is catapulted inside the building, along with a million shards of glass.
I don’t have any idea how far I fly. My body lands with a thud against the dirt inside a huge planter full of overgrown philodendrons. I roll over, groaning, and carefully remove my helmet, tossing it aside. Picking myself up, I assess any bodily damage with my eyes in the dim light because the overload of adrenaline right now means I definitely feel zero pain.
I stumble down the wide, shadowy corridor and start yelling her name. I just don’t know what else to do but call out to her.
“Millie! Millie, I’m here! Where are you, baby!”
When the corridor reaches the center atrium, I see movement in the darkness to my right. I look and the first thing that registers in my brain is a figure, standing over a lump on the floor.