Author’s Note: Well! You know, I really had no idea that the last line of chapter five would get people all worked up! Umm . . . sorry? (Not!) I was just looking for a good way to end the chapter and that was the first thing that came to mind. Gotta keep you guys on the edge of your seat, right?

xOxOx

I never did return to the service for Adam. Still feeling chocked up, I lingered around in the hallway for a while until Quatre joined me, and we went down to the cafeteria for a snack. I bought, well, got for free, a rather large piece of chocolate cake and a Mountain Dew, since they were out of 7-Up, and made faces at Q as he grabbed a small salad. We sat down at our usual table and started eating in silence.

I licked a big glob of icing off of my plastic spork (foon?) and sucked on it, trying to make sure that I had gotten all of the sugary sweetness into my mouth. “Ya know . . . it was pretty nice of Heero and Wufei to show up today, wasn’t it?”

Quatre nodded. “Yep. Maybe they’re extending an olive branch?” He gave me a significant look.

Ha. I knew what he was trying to say. I just wrinkled my nose and snorted, deciding to play dumb. “Eww, I hate olives . . . oh! Oh, you mean . . .”

Q giggled and snagged a piece of my cake with his own confused utensil, his eyes fluttering closed as he sucked on the spork/foon even harder than I had. I pushed my cake over to him and grabbed his salad, drenching it in Q’s honey mustard dressing so that it actually tasted like something. (How people manage to eat a salad with no dressing is way beyond me.) He gave me a grateful look and happily inhaled my cake.

“You’ve got chocolate all over your face, Quatre,” Trowa said from just behind me.

I chocked on a piece of lettuce. Where had he come from?

Tro, Wufei and Heero sat down at the table with us. Heero and Tro were empty handed, but Wufei had a giant piece of pie and some tea, which he began to ate with as much gusto as Quatre.

I watched with big eyes as Trowa proceeded to wipe the chocolate from his boyfriend’s face with his fingers and then lick his fingers quite innocently. Quatre was red, and I looked straight at Trowa and said loudly, “You perv!”

Heero grunted, his face blank as usual, apparently unfazed by the public display of affection. “What did that woman say to you, Duo?”

I gave him a look that said ‘mind your own business.’ “That’s private.”

“She didn’t harass you, did she?” Trowa demanded suddenly, looking dangerous.

I rolled my eyes. “No! She was really nice, okay? It was nothing.”

“Hn,” was Heero’s reply.

“So!” I said, licking up the rest of the honey mustard sauce from the plastic bowl. “What are we doing today while we are not working?” Wufei looked scandalized and shook his head. I just smiled at him sweetly.

“Well, I think I’d like to help you look through that message board,” Quatre said, finishing off the rest of his treat. He looked very sad that it was gone and I struggled not to snicker.

“Sure, why not?” I got to my feet and stretched. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Heero said, standing too. “I am willing to aid in your search.”

I made a face at him. “Believe me, you do not want to go on that website Heero. Neither do you,” I said to Wufei, who looked puzzled.

Heero frowned. “But—”

“No,” I firmly said. This time I wouldn’t let Heero do whatever he wanted. I couldn’t have him getting in the way, possibly revealing himself on accident and blowing the entire investigation. Heero wasn’t good with people, and probably would be even worse with them online, since reading their face or body language was out of the question. “You are not going to get on that website, okay? You’re not very good at keeping a low profile, and you don’t have a secure, untraceable credit card—”

“How do you know?” demanded Heero as he scowled furiously.

“Oh believe me, I know,” I said sweetly. “Drop it Heero. If anything happens, I’ll keep you informed, all right? Let’s go, Q.”

We quickly left the cafeteria. Quatre gave me a huge smile. “Way to put your foot down! I’m proud of you.”

I puffed out my chest and winked at him. “Good, huh?”

“You know it! So, I’m trying to think of a username . . . how about ‘blondes_r_more_fun’?”

xOxOx

For about three hours we lurked around the message boards and on the live chats. Not surprisingly, there was a lot of speculation on my future with my most recent date . . . until someone posted a link to an online article reporting Adam’s death. Now my love life was on the forefront on the message boards, and the members were debating on who I’d end up with.

There was an interesting little poll going, about who would become my next love interest, and Quatre nearly died when he saw the current results of it. His face had gone bright red and he’d began to stutter when he saw that Trowa was in the lead with—get this!—seventy-six percent of the votes. Heero was next with ten, and Q came in next five. The rest was divided amongst other various choices. I just laughed. Like Trowa would ever leave his blond lover for me, for anyone. Shows how much these people really knew.

Anyway, this was a good thing. All of the fanatics that were “in love” with me (or losers as I like to call them) were coming out in droves, posting this and that about how I’d end up with one of them, not Trowa, not Q and certainly not Heero, so we had a lot of stuff to work with.

Once Quatre and I had compiled a list of suspicious individuals, I called Benito and gave him the names, along with the others that I’d found before, and then we downloaded (legally, I swear) the latest episodes of my favorite anime, broke out the popcorn and pigged out.

You know . . . just another day at the office. Um, besides the memorial, of course.

The first thing I did we returned to the mansion/fortress was to bring my laptop into the kitchen and logged onto duo.com. Quatre was on the phone with someone in the living room and Tro was sitting close next to me, shuffling through the various menus of delivery places that they kept in the kitchen. It was funny—they had about thirty something menus, arranged by type of food and kept neatly in a binder. Hey, we were all young men and none of us were really all that great at cooking, so it made plenty sense to us.

“What do you think?” I asked, not looking up from the computer screen.

“Pizza,” he replied as he eyed the menu of our usual pizza joint. “Is Quatre still on the phone?”

“No, I’m not,” Quatre said, coming into the kitchen. I glanced up and took notice of his posture—arms crossed over his chest and chin raised, not to mention that there was a suspicious gleam in his eyes. Uh oh. Someone was in trouble . . . and I hoped it wasn’t me. “What are we ordering?”

“Pizza,” Trowa replied, getting up to get the phone.

“Didn’t we already have pizza this week? How about some Italian?”

And for some strange reason, they began to argue over what food that we were going to order. I just focused on the message boards and stayed out of it for a while because one, I really didn’t care what kind of food we had for dinner as long as a lot of it ended up in my stomach, and two, I knew better than to argue with Q when he got that look. Why Tro even bothered, I don’t really know.

Then I realized that things were getting a little out of hand.

Quatre was glaring at Trowa, who was just standing there looking slightly amused. Trowa apparently hadn’t realized that Quatre was serious. Big mistake. “You aren’t even considering my opinion, are you?” He demanded as he stamped his foot angrily.

Ya know, sometimes I wonder how smart Trowa really is. Because what he did next was just really dumb. He did his silent laugh thingy for a little, and then actually laughed out loud.

Quatre looked pissed. “Oh, you think it’s funny? Do you want me to cook or something?”

“NO!” I exploded, jumping up from my chair, eyes wide with apprehension and instantly Trowa stopped laughing. Quatre’s food is so not funny, okay? Take my word for it. “Okay, you two, what’s going on?” I asked, giving them each a look.

“I want Italian,” Quatre said, “and Trowa wants pizza again.” He glared furiously.

“Oh,” I said dumbly. “Well . . . technically, isn’t pizza an Italian food?”

Quatre turned his evil look to me. Hey! What did I do? I was just trying to get them to stop being dumb! “It figures. Of course you’d take his side.” Quatre gave the both of us one more headed glance before storming out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

I was vaguely aware that my mouth was hanging open as I turned to Trowa, who was busy looking equally stunned. Uh, what the hell had that been about? “Well . . . hell. What did I do?”

“I don’t know. What did I do?”

I just shrugged. When Trowa moved to follow his boyfriend, I shook my head. “Let me do it, okay?” I made it to the doorway before turning back to face him. “Oh, and I’m making an executive decision, kay? Order some damn Chinese.”

I rushed up the stairs and to Tro and Q’s room. I turned the knob and snickered when it didn’t move. Locked. Did Q honestly think that a lock would keep me, Duo Maxwell, out of a room if I really wanted in? C’mon, he knew me way better than that. I reached into my hair and took out one of my trusty picks.

What can I say? Old habits die hard, some harder than others.

It took me only a few seconds to jimmy the lock. I pushed the door open and walked into the room . . . only to trip over a rope that was stretched in front of the doorway and flying across the room where I landed gracefully on my face. Ouch! Who the heck put rope across their doorway?!

Apparently Quatre Winner did, because he darted into the bedroom from the attached bath and sighed disappointedly. “I thought you were Trowa.”

I picked myself up from the floor and rubbed my face. “Oh, so that trap was meant for him and not me?”

He looked me up and down before plopping down on the bed. “I’m not really sure.”

I cautiously sat next to him. Not that close, mind you, because a person rig a room so that an innocent, unsuspecting person would go flying into the wall once they entered for no reason at all. “Okay, what the heck is going on with you?”

“Wufei called me earlier.”

So that’s who he’d been on the phone with. “ . . . okay. So?”

Quatre turned to stare into my eyes. “Do you have something to tell me, Duo?”

“Umm . . . I don’t think so . . .”

“Oh? Think harder.”

Eep! I began to squirm. “Umm . . . er . . . well . . . OKAY! I really did trash those bunny slippers, but I’ll get you another pair as soon as possible, I swear!”

“Look, Duo, just tell me the truth. If he was the one to come on to you, then fine, we can work this out and still be friends, but—”

“Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about?”

Quatre let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed my face. “Don’t play dumb with me! I know better than anyone else how smart you are! Just tell me if you have something going on with Trowa, exactly what happened and which one of you started it!”

OKAY. Now that was totally unexpected. He thought I was fooling around with Trowa? “Are you freaking crazy?! You think that Tro and I are messing around behind your back?!” Q confirmed it by releasing me and looking away. “What the hell gave you that idea? Who told you—Wufei . . .” I growled.

That bastard. Just who the hell did he think he was, filling Quatre’s head with such utter nonsense? Oh, yes, he and I will be having a nice . . . talk pretty soon.

“He said that he was suspicious of you and Trowa, that he caught you two in a compromising position!” Quatre said accusingly.

Compromising position? What the freak did that mean? “Oh, come on, Quatre! That’s so vague that you can’t be sure if he meant that we were hugging or giving each other hand jobs!”

Q blushed and bit his bottom lip. “I . . . he said that he saw you two together the day that you found those pictures in your locker.”

“Together? Oh! Look, Trowa was just comforting me by letting me rest my head on his shoulder,” I said, pulling him back to the bed. “Look. Believe me when I say this. There is absolutely nothing going on between Trowa and me other than a good friendship. He is all yours.”

“But the online poll—”

I shook my head furiously. “No fucking buts, okay? Whose face did he practically lick today in front of Heero and Wufei? Certainly not mine.”

“I . . . I’m sorry. I’m just being . . .” Quatre seemed to deflate as he began to look very sheepish.

“No, I understand. You were just scared that you were going to lose the love of your life. Don’t worry about it.”

Quatre got back on his feet. “You’re right. I’m stupid for thinking that Trowa would do something like that to me, and for thinking that you would too. It’s just that when Wufei told me, I was so scared . . .”

“S’okay. Go back downstairs and make up with your man,” I said with a grin. “I’ll be out of the room by the time you two come up here to wreck another bed, and I’ll call you guys when the food gets arrives.”

Once Quatre was out of the room, my smiled quickly vanished. Just who the hell did Wufei think he was, accusing me of seeing my best friend’s boyfriend when he’d stolen Heero from me? Ha! Well, he wouldn’t get away with this one. Tomorrow I’d give my coworkers something to really talk about.

xOxOx

About an hour later I was busy slurping up some noodles and watching Trowa and Quatre lovingly make eyes at each other when the phone rang. I jumped up and got it, hoping that it wasn’t Wufei calling back to speak to Quatre about my (nonexistent) romantic relationship with Trowa. “Hello, Duo here,” I said politely.

“Duo, just the person I wanted to speak to.”

What a pleasant surprise, it was the hunky cop! “Hey Detective. What’s up? Got any leads?”

“Actually, we think we’ve found someone worth looking into. One of the usernames that you gave to us is looking pretty good,” he said almost leisurely.

Cool. If I ever got tired of getting paid for gossiping and watching movies, maybe I’d consider becoming a detective. “Oh? That’s great, I guess. So, which psycho is it?”

“Well, it turns out that the man who gave out your former address and phone number on the duo.com message board used to work for the Preventers in the records room. We think that he’s a good place to start.” Okay, now that really got my attention.

“Which would explain how he had access to my info,” I replied, tugging on the end of my braid thoughtfully. “And how those photos got into my locker.”

“That’s what we were thinking. So we’ve brought the guy in for questioning and we want you to come down and see if this guy divulges any information that you may consider private or not well known, you know? Like . . .” He drifted off momentarily before chuckling deeply. “Like if you’ve got a birthmark on your right ass cheek or something.”

Hmm . . . You can check if you want. “Sounds good. I can be there in about ten minutes.”

“Good. Don’t come alone, just in case this guy isn’t the one. See you in a little.”

When I turned around, Trowa was leaning in to lick some sauce from Quatre’s cheek. I guess it was safe to assume that everything was okay between them now. “Eww! Little Duo doesn’t want to see Mommy and Daddy sucking face! Get a room!”

Quatre had the good sense to look embarrassed, but Trowa just looked very smug and content with himself. He probably should be, because I heard a lot of happy squeals coming from Quatre up in that bedroom earlier.

“That was the cute cop. He needs me to come down to the station and listen to a guy they brought in,” I said, finishing off the rest of my food. “Can one of you come with me?”

“We’ll both go,” Trowa said.

The three of us got into the SUV and went down to the police station. To be honest, I was kind of nervous about this whole thing. I mean, I know that the questioning rooms have that one way mirror and intercom thing, but being that close to someone who was so freakishly obsessed with me that he was willing to stalk me was kind of unnerving. I kept telling myself on the way to the station that the place would be full of cops, and that the man had to be a complete idiot to try something with all of those officers around.

We were lead directly to the interrogation room where a very scruffy looking man was sitting slouched over in a rickety looking wood chair. His brown hair was greasy and shoulder length, and his eyes were bloodshot. Despite his scruffy looking clothes, he looked well fed because he was rather round in the middle, and his shirt didn’t exactly fit over his gut. I wrinkled my nose. Could this lard butt really be the guy who was stalking me? Yuck.

Walker and another cop were inside the room, towering over him, trying to intimidate the guy, I guess. Quatre, Trowa and I were joined by Benito, who knocked on the glass without saying a word to us. Right down to business.

Walker was the first to speak. “So, Martin, do you want to tell us how you knew of Duo Maxwell’s former address?”

The Martin guy snorted. “You pigs already know, don’t you? Unless ya’ll haven’t been doin’ your homework. If that’s the case, then get out of my friggen face and go do what my tax dollars pay ya to do.”

The other cop leaned in menacingly. “Don’t get smart with us. You took confidential files from the Preventers HQ, didn’t you?”

“Ha! You fuckers ain’t getting me to admit to that! That’s a damn felony.” The Martin dude looked pretty good about the fact that the cops hadn’t gotten him to fess up to a crime.

Walker shook his head and slapped a manila folder onto the table. “Fine. You don’t need to admit to it, we just would’ve made your life a lot easier if you had. We found copies of private information from Mr. Maxwell’s Preventers file in your apartment.”

“W-what?! You planted that!”

The other cop banged his fist on the table, causing Martin to jump about a mile high. “Stop wasting our time! You admit to this and we’ll cut you some slack when this goes to trial.”

Martin licked his lips nervously and began wiping his hands on his pants. “O-oh?”

“Yeah,” Walker continued. “And maybe we’ll forget about that stash of weed we found in your closet if you cooperate with us on this.”

Now the guy was really beginning to squirm. “Okay. So . . . yeah, I took those files like, a year ago or something, okay? I wasn’t gonna do any harm with ‘em, ya know? Just . . .” He looked embarrassed. “I just wanted to see him.”

I winced. If only you could’ve heard how desperate he’d sounded. It was just . . . sad.

“Him? You mean Duo Maxwell?” asked Walker.

“Yeah.”

“But you two worked together, you could’ve just gone up to him and said something,” the other detective asked.

“Naw. Naw, he’s just so . . . you wouldn’t understand. Besides, that other pilot—the crazy maniacal one that he was with wouldn’t let anyone near him. And like he’d give me, a lowly records guy, the time of day,” Martin finished rather pathetically.

“So what did you do with the information?” Walker demanded.

“I . . . er, I went to the place and, ya know, looked. Umm, at him. He liked to sit in front of this window and read sometimes, and I’d just watch until he went to bed.” The guy then looked frantic. “Man, that sounded bad. I ain’t no crazy stalker, all right?!”

Walker held up his hands. “No one is saying you are. Is that all you did? Just look?”

“Er . . . I called a few times to hear his voice. And that’s it, I swear.”

The other cop shook his head. “Funny, but I don’t believe you.”

Walker chimed in. “Neither do I. See this is valuable information, or it was at the time. What was the price someone had to pay to get this stuff?” He jabbed at the folder.

“I d-dunno what the hell you’re talking about,” stuttered Martin anxiously.

“Don’t you? Then how come, right after you got fired from your Preventers job, that you began cashing checks at your bank from various individuals for precisely one thousand five hundred credits?” Walker put another folder in front of the suspect. “We’ve got your bank records right here.”

Alarm bells went off in my head. Woah. This was bad. My personal information had been up for sale? And for a measly one thousand five hundred creds? C’mon . . .

“OKAY!! So I sold it to some people! No harm, Mr. Maxwell hasn’t been hurt!” exclaimed Martin.

“Maybe he hasn’t physically, but some other shit’s been going down. I think you know what we’re talking about,” Walker said.

“N-no, I don’t. I swear!”

The other cop threw a couple of photos at the suspect. “You don’t remember this?”

I squinted at the pictures, but from this far, I couldn’t see anything. “What are those?” I asked quickly.

“Pictures of the crime scene at Mr. Hurwitz’s home,” Benito answered grimly.

Oh, eww. Apparently Martin agreed with me because he violently shoved the pictures away and lurched back in his chair. His face looked kind of green as he covered his mouth.

“You sick fucks! I don’t know anything about that dude’s murder, I swear!”

“Do you have Mr. Maxwell’s current address?” the other cop demanded.

“YEAH! Okay, yes, I have that too!”

“How did you get it?” That was Walker.

“A friend of mine got the new information from the file room. His name is Frank Doles. I can give you his address, his phone number, his Social, his birth date, maybe he did it but I didn’t, I swear to God and all that is holy that I did not kill that man and I have not done anything bad to Mr. Maxwell—”

I rolled my eyes and turned away from the sad sight. “He can’t possibly be the man who’s been stalking me.”

Benito raised an eyebrow at me. “Why do you say that?”

“Because this guy is a fucking idiot,” I said honestly. Quatre made a face and Trowa nodded in agreement. “Look, you guys arrested him and read him his rights?”

“We arrested him for the weed, yes . . .”

“Then why the hell hasn’t he asked for a lawyer? He could’ve denied everything that didn’t concern the weed until the cows came home, but instead he’s sitting in that chair spilling his guts . . .” I glanced back at him. “Which he has quite a lot of, actually. And you’re telling me that this is the guy who sent me several dozen roses and filled my apartment with other flowers? Does he shop at the Salvation Army for his clothes and secretly drive a BMW to his corner office?”

Benito struggled to keep his face straight, but Q and Tro snickered. “Um, no.”

I grinned. “Not your guy then. I mean, my stalker was smart enough not to leave very many clues behind at Adam’s crime scene. This guy is just . . .”

Benito nodded. “I agree. We’re going to look into the people who enough cash to purchase that information from him and see what we come up with. Thanks for coming down.”

. . . That was it? Very anti-climactic, ne? Thought so.

That night I went to bed feeling very empty. Why couldn’t Martin have been my stalker? Then he’d be behind bars, unable to hurt anyone ever again, and I would be safe to undress in the middle of my own room without fear and to go out on dates with whoever the hell I chose.

I suppose I know why. That would’ve been too easy.

*~*

With my computer gone for ‘routine maintenance,’ the next day at work I sat in my torture cube doing the only thing I could think of—I sat in my chair, balancing a pencil with my nose. After about an hour, I’d gotten the hang of it. All I had to do was sit back and angle my head just so and—

“Hey, Quatre!” I called as the blond passed by, sitting up quickly and letting my pencil fall to the floor. He stopped in his place and peered over the walls of my cubicle.

“Duo! What’s going on?”

“You wanna go get something to eat?” Please say yes, I’m dying of boredom!

“I’d love to, but sorry, I can’t,” Q said, and I could see the regret on his face. “Une wants to speak to me, Trowa and Heero.”

Hey! Why was I being left out? “Oh . . . about what?”

Quatre shrugged his shoulders and made a face. “Who knows. Trowa and I haven’t been . . . ahh, taking breaks in public places anymore, so that can’t be it. And I can’t imagine what Heero could’ve done to get in trouble.” He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “But, I know someone who can take you to the cafeteria. Hey Wufei!”

I jumped up out of my seat. “What?!”

He pinned me with a heated look and dropped his voice dangerously. “Wufei was just trying to be a good friend, okay? It was all a misunderstanding, and I think that with all of the crap that’s been going on lately, it would be best to try to bury the hatchet. Got it?”

Uh oh, Scary Quatre had returned. “Oh, sure, sure. Try to bury the hatchet . . . I’m down with that!”

A sweet smile blossomed on Q’s face. “Good! That’s what I thought.”

Wufei came up to his side, and as I glared at him he was unable to meet my eyes.

“Wufei, I think there are some things that you and Duo need to discuss. Why don’t you take him down to the cafeteria and get a bite to eat and talk?” Quatre didn’t wait for a reply from Wufei. “Great! Thanks for agreeing. I better be going, have fun!”

Damn! Quatre was lucky that he didn’t have anymore slippers for me to trash because . . .

Wufei cleared his throat. “Ah, I think that Quatre is right. I think I would like to sit and talk with you.”

Fine. Whatever. I would just be too busy stuffing my face to listen to listen to Wufei’s big mouth. I know that I promised myself that I would give the office something to gossip over the water cooler about, but I really hadn’t thought anything up because of Benito’s surprise call. Time to just go with the flow, I guess.

So reluctantly I left my cubicle and followed Wufei in silence as we walked down the hallway and towards the cafeteria. We were almost there when a young intern stopped us.

“Mr. Chang, Ms. Une is requesting your presence in her office right away,” the woman said firmly and authoritatively. Well, someone took their job very seriously.

I frowned. What on earth could this possibly be about? And why wasn’t I invited? “Did she say anything about me?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Maxwell. However, Dr. David Rankin is asking for you. He wants to see you immediately in the infirmary, examination room three,” she added.

Wufei looked torn. That’s right, the guys had settled on having someone accompany me everywhere. I turned to him. “Go on, Wufei. Preventers business takes priority. I’m sure this lovely intern can take me down to the infirmary,” I said. I’d be rid of him then, and maybe I’d have time to prepare myself for a cheesy, sappy, heartfelt powwow. Er . . . probably not.

“Well . . .” Wufei gave the woman a once over. “I’m giving you an assignment.” The intern snapped to attention. I snorted. Suck up. “You are to assist Mr. Maxwell to the infirmary, is that understood? Do not let him out of your sight. And as for you, Duo, I want you to wait down there when you get done. One of us will be down as soon as possible.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” I muttered sarcastically. I started walking away and the eager intern quickly ran after me. I happily left her standing in the hallway when I entered the infirmary.

One of the nurses recognized me, smiled, and said, “The doctor is waiting for you in examination room three.”

Ah, so he was. The doc was digging through a drawer for something, and when I entered, he turned slightly and gave me a smile.

“Hello Duo.”

“Hi doc. What’s this about?” I asked, coming further into the room and closing the door behind me. I leaned against the counter next to the sink and eyed the man curiously. He turned back to whatever he was searching for.

“I just wanted to check up on that burn, to make sure that it hasn’t become infected,” he said, still digging.

Burn? Oh, that thing. I’d forgotten. “Actually, it totally slipped my mind. It doesn’t really bother me much,” I replied, pulling up my sleeve.

“Understandable. You’ve . . . probably had a lot on your mind.”

Sure I did. Heero and Wufei, the stalker, Adam’s death and Peters’ disappearance. “Um, I suppose,” I said slowly, wondering just what he’d been referring to. “And I guess I have a pretty high tolerance level for pain,” I continued, my eyes trailing down to a book on the counter beside me. “I mean, being a former soldier and all.”

“Of course.”

I turned my back to him and stared down at the book. Well, not the book per se, but what was peeking out from under it. It looked like a photograph, and the part that I could see looked strangely familiar, like a long brown rope . . .

I glance over my shoulder before slowly lifting the book and drawing the photo out. When it was finally free and I got a good look at it, I froze in place as my blood ran cold.

It was a picture of me leaving my apartment with a box in hand, taken the day I’d gone back to my place to get some clothes.

And there was another.

I swear that for a moment there my heart stopped. Because the other picture was of me undressing. An exact copy of one that I’d handed over to the police.

. . . Dr. David Rankin was my stalker!

“Ummm . . . you know,” I said slowly, trying to make sure that my voice was level. “I forgot that I have this meeting with Une . . .” I carefully placed the photos back in place. “So I’d better be going.”

I turned around only to find the doctor standing less than a foot away from me with a big ass needle in his hand. Before I could make another move, he grabbed me and firmly placed a hand over my mouth, pushing me back so that I was trapped between him and the counter.

I kicked at him as best as I could, but my blows didn’t seem to have any effect. His next move was lightning fast—with a doctor’s precision he jabbed my arm and released the contents of the needle into my body.

Almost instantly I could feel myself slipping away, but I continued to struggle as best I could. Rankin just held me close and stroked my hair, and I could vaguely hear him whispering, “Shhh, shhh, it will all be over soon.”

And it was.

In less than a minute I was out like a light and at the complete mercy of my obsessed psycho stalker.

Yeah, I know. Life’s a bitch, ain’t it?

xOxOx

Author’s Note: *whistles innocently* No comment! Anyway, remember everyone, after the next chapter, Zechs will finally make his appearance. I promise. Click on my bio if you would like to join my mailing list and receive notification of updates!