Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) (7 page)

Mike tossed his cash onto the table and stood. “I’m heading out,” he grunted.

“We’ll miss your smiling face,” Cole said sarcastically. “But really, if you need help, just call.”

The others nodded in agreement. Mike knew they meant it. They’d all been through dark times and came out stronger on the other side. They’d be there for him just like he’d always be there for them.

“Thanks,” Mike said, his eyes sweeping the bar. Julia was taking orders from a group of guys at a table on the other side of the room. He headed towards the door and caught her eye. He gave her a head nod, and she smiled in return.

He needed to get over his need for control. He couldn’t protect everyone. Maybe Cole would be good for her.

Mike slid onto the driver’s seat of his truck and pulled out his phone. He tapped on the screen and it came to life. He pulled up Alisha’s address in the maps app. As the location came into view on the screen, he recognized the streets surrounding the area. It wasn’t far from where he lived. He started his truck and pulled onto the street. He decided to go home first. He needed to get changed.

He walked into his condo and turned off his alarm. The beeping stopped, and he marched straight to his bedroom. He pulled his shirt off and undid the belt on his jeans. Unzipping the fly, he let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of the jeans and pulled open a drawer on his dresser. He found his tight fitting black pants and shirt and put them on. Then he grabbed his black ski mask. He needed to blend into the darkness.

Mike pulled onto Alisha’s street and parked several houses down from hers. He looked around. Everything was quiet except for the taillights of a car turning off the street. It was late. Most of the houses were dark.

He got out of the truck and tucked the ski mask into the back of his pants. He carefully closed the truck door, hoping not to attract attention. He crossed the street and casually walked down the sidewalk, taking in the neighborhood. The houses seemed spacious with nice yards. These were family homes, and not your starter family homes either. Since she was a single teacher, he hadn’t expected her to live in such a nice area.

He strolled past her house. It was an attractive, two-story brick home that sat on a corner lot. A light was on upstairs, but the first floor was dark. Bushes lined the front of the house, and he saw something he didn’t like. Beside the garage door was a large cypress tree. He shook his head at how easy it would be for someone to hide behind the tree and sneak into the garage as she drove in. That tree would have to go.

He came to a large hedge of bushes that divided her land from her neighbors. He hid among the bushes, slipped the black ski mask over his head, and followed the bushes to the backyard. He knew this was another hiding spot, and his gaze swept the ground for clues.

Her backyard had a large fenced-in section. He was glad the dog wasn’t outside. It should be inside with her, keeping her safe.  But between her house and the one behind hers was a large wooded section. Pine trees and various shrubs provided good cover for nighttime peeping.

Mike crouched low as he slowly made his way through the wooded section between the houses. His gut felt heavy as he saw all the wonderful hiding places her backyard provided. This place was a peeping Tom’s wet dream.

The bushes and trees that lined the yard for privacy were beautiful, but they also lent themselves as shelter to predators. This stretch of trees even led to a sidewalk on the other side of her house. Mike cursed. He couldn’t do anything about the protected tree area. 

Kneeling behind a bush, he looked up at her house and saw her silhouette walk past a window. Her shadowy form was barely perceptible, but a stalker could fill in the blanks in his mind’s eye and be in paradise. His blood rushed at the thought of some pervert sitting back here and staring at her
.

Let’s see what you left behind.

Mike scanned the ground and noticed a shrub with broken branches.
There you are.
Mike scooted towards the shrub and touched a broken branch. A few other branches were damaged and it was obvious that a spot had been cleared out. The leaves were also crumbled and crushed in that location. The hidey-hole was just big enough for a man to hide in.

He studied the ground, looking for a foot print or anything that would tell him about the stalker. Something white lay atop the leaves and dirt. He picked up the white oval shape and sniffed it.
Peppermint
. He chuckled and shook his head. The pervert left behind a Tic Tac.
Was chomping on those a nervous habit, or did the man suffer from halitosis?
Either way, it was a good piece of information to have.

Then his stomach turned as he touched the damp earth. It had poured the previous night, yet this Tic Tac was in good shape. The man had recently been in this exact spot.
Had he just missed him? Was he still around?

Mike scanned the area. He didn’t see any movement as he studied the branches of bushes along the perimeter of Alisha’s house. He moved slowly through the bushes again, his hand tracing over the ground. Then he saw it. A shoe print in the moist soil. He couldn’t help but smile as he laid a quarter beside the print and snapped a picture of it with his cell. He’d guess the shoe was a size nine and the busy tread looked like it came from a running shoe. He’d send the picture to Tyson and see what he could find.

He looked up at the dark window where he’d last seen Alisha’s silhouette. He struggled with the notion of guarding her all night or going home and coming back in the morning. If the man had already been there and left, he most likely wouldn’t be coming back.
Unless he left to get something.
Mike didn’t want to leave her defenseless, so he decided to hang out.

He found a good spot, a tree that was encircled by bushes. He slipped his legs under the bushes and leaned against the tree, settling in for a long night.

At three in the morning, he decided the man wasn’t returning. He crept silently through the bushes and slipped unnoticed onto the sidewalk.

Alisha stretched as she rolled over in bed to check the time. It was after nine, but she still felt tired. The situation with her stalker kept her from sleeping well. Each night she awoke at any sound, afraid that he’d gotten into her house. That meant the little sleep she did get wasn’t great. 

She had a lot to do before Mike arrived. She needed to grab a quick breakfast, exercise, and shower before he got there. She sprung out of bed and put on her exercise clothes. She went to the alarm pad in her bedroom and turned off the alarm.

Forrest was on her heels as she jogged down the steps. “Don’t make mommy trip,” she warned as he brushed past her legs. She loved that bundle of energy. She was glad her nieces hadn’t begged for Forrest. She wasn’t sure she could deny them the little dog if they’d truly wanted him, but she felt like he belonged with her. He kept her from being alone in the big house.

Once on the first floor, Forrest barked and ran to the patio door. She looked out the window and noticed the broken flower pot and soil scattered on the stone pavers. She rolled her eyes and decided that she’d clean it up later. When she opened the patio door, Forrest bounded out in search of the perfect spot to do his business.

Alisha shut the door and went to the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal. She kept a variety in her cupboards. They ranged from sugary sweet to the health-nut cereals. It was always obvious what mood she was in when she went shopping by what she purchased.

If she was in one of her “health” kicks, she stocked up on healthy, high-fiber cereals. When she was stressed or hungry, she bought all the yummy, sweet cereals that were targeted at kids. Today she figured she’d get a big lunch with Mike, so she chose the healthy cereal. She never ate healthy when she went out.

As she ate the cereal, Forrest scratched on the door. She got out of the chair and carried her bowl over to the door as she shoved another bite into her mouth. She opened the door and Forrest skittered past her. She stared across the patio at the mound of soil and shook her head. She still needed to deal with the gun too. At least there was a mess to show Mike. Perhaps he wouldn’t think that she’d over-reacted.

She emptied the milk from her cereal bowl into the sink and put the bowl in the dishwasher. It was almost full. She’d have to run it soon. Grabbing a hairband off the counter, she strolled into the study. This room had been her dad’s office. His achievements still hung on the walls, but the room was now her exercise space.

When she’d bought the elliptical machine, she decided to turn the office into her work-out room. She figured having it on the first floor was easier than lugging the heavy piece of equipment up the stairs and into one of the extra bedrooms.

Her father would roll his eyes at the current state of his office. He’d always been meticulous. Nothing was ever out of place, but now this room was one of her favorite spots in the house. Whenever she worked out in here, she felt closer to her dad. It was like she was sharing the space with him. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but her memories stayed fresh and alive inside the walls of this house.

When she’d switched the room over from office to work-out space she moved his computer and put in a television. She indulged and bought a screen larger than she needed for the space, but she was happy that she did. She also put in a good stereo system. She had no trouble hearing the show over the consistent whir of the elliptical.

She turned on the television and went to Netflix. She started the next episode of her favorite thriller show. She lost herself in the monotonous routine of the back-and-forth movement of the elliptical. It was easy to keep up her pace as the creepy show sucked her in.

When the show was over, she wiped the sweat from her forehead with the bottom of her shirt and turned off the television. Then she walked into the kitchen and got a glass of ice-cold water. She chugged it and topped it off again before heading upstairs. She had just enough time to get ready before Mike showed up.

Mike sat up in bed and rubbed his hand over his face. Stubble scratched his palm. A shave was in his future, and he definitely needed to grab a coffee before he headed to Alisha’s. He was used to going on little sleep, but last night had been rougher than usual. After watching over her through most of the night, what little sleep he did get once he returned home was awful. He couldn’t turn off his brain. Scenarios filtered through his mind and disturbed him. He didn’t want a repeat of events that the last stalker who invaded his life had committed.

He jumped in the shower and scrubbed himself down. Not only did he want to protect Alisha today and help her out with her gun, he was hoping he’d have the opportunity to kiss her again. Maybe that was part of the reason he couldn’t sleep last night. He couldn’t get the feel of her body pressed against his out of his mind. She’d tasted so sweet when they kissed, like chocolate and sugar.

Mike stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He rubbed his hands through his hair, shaking off the excess water. Then he walked into his bedroom and headed straight for the dresser. He grabbed his jeans from one drawer and pulled out a t-shirt from another drawer. He slipped his t-shirt over his head and pulled on his jeans. He kept his wardrobe simple. He was a jeans and t-shirt guy, but he did own a few nice suits that he used occasionally for work.

He went back into the bathroom and squirted the shaving cream into his palm. He rubbed the menthol scented foam on his face. Wetting his razor, he removed the scruff that had grown overnight. By evening he’d be stubbly again, but perhaps she’d let him rub his smooth face against her before he’d become too scratchy.

When he finished shaving, he rinsed his razor and set it aside to dry. He studied his face in the mirror. He used to be good-looking, but now tiny scars marred his face and arms. Most of the time he didn’t think about them, they were just a part of him. He’d accepted that, but sometimes, when he met a new woman, she’d stare or ask him about the scars. He didn’t mind too much, but he did appreciate how Alisha didn’t stare. He’d felt her apprehension towards him at first, but as the night progressed, she’d relaxed. She hadn’t pushed him for details either when she asked about his work. He liked that too. She was a smart girl. He slapped on some after-shave and went into the kitchen to grab his coffee.

He looked at his cell, willing her to reach out to him. He grabbed a piece of whole-wheat bread and popped it into the toaster. That should hold him over until they got lunch.

He leaned against the counter and sipped the strong coffee from his travel mug as he waited for the toaster to pop. He’d sent the picture of the shoe print to Tyson after he’d nestled himself into his hiding spot. Hopefully Tyson would determine the shoe size and give a better estimate to height and weight of the stalker. The toast popped up, and he quickly buttered it. He scarfed it down as he headed out the door.

Mike pulled up to the curb beside her house. He looked at the neighborhood, noting all the different places to hide. He considered that the stalker could be a neighbor who would have easy access to her house and be able to spy without garnering much attention. Mike really didn’t know. Without much to go on, he wanted to keep his options open. As far as he was concerned, the stalker could be anyone. Stalkers didn’t wear signs to warn others of their danger, but there was generally something ‘off’ about them.

The truck chirped as he locked it and headed towards her front door. Once he rang the bell, a yipping and barking greeted him from the other side of the door. He smiled, suspicious about what kind of dog made that high-pitched sound.

Alisha opened the door and smiled at him. She looked radiant. Her hair was still damp and pulled high into a ponytail. Her eyes were bright and she seemed relaxed considering the circumstances.

“Hello,” she said, holding the dog in her arms. “Come in.” She stood to the side, making room for Mike to enter the house.

He stepped into the front hall. To the left was a living room with a sofa and lounging chair. A baby grand piano was nestled into one of the corners.  To the right was a dining room with a table for eight along with a buffet and hutch filled with nice dishes and knick-knacks.

She shut the door behind him. “I’m so glad that you’re here,” she said, pushing aside her nerves and focusing on Mike. When she’d awoken, her thoughts went directly to him. She’d enjoyed her time with him yesterday, and she hoped that today would be better.

Mike chuckled, eyeing Forrest. “I thought you said you had a dog,” he teased. “I’ve seen scarier rats.”

She smiled and her face lit up. He loved her smile. He loved her attitude. “Rats are disease carriers,” she stated with a raised eyebrow. “Forrest has had his shots. He’s clean.” She reached down and set the dog on the floor.

Forrest went to Mike and scratched at his legs and barked. Mike chuckled at the dog’s attention. If that was her protecting her master, then Alisha was worse off than he thought.

When he’d first heard that she had a dog, he was relieved. But now that he saw the dog, he couldn’t imagine that there was a coward alive who would be scared of a Yorkshire terrier, especially one with a red bow propped on top of its head. He guessed the dog weighed about five pounds.

“So this is Forrest,” he said, reaching down and picking her up. “She’s very cute.” The dog’s paws scratched at the skin on his arms, and she snarled out a warning.

“She’s a he,” Alisha corrected.

Mike tilted his head and exhaled loudly. “You’re killing me,” he said. He raised the dog higher in the air and examined Forrest’s underside. Sure enough, there were boy parts. “Why does
he
have a red bow in his hair?” Mike asked with a smile.

Alisha laughed. “Because
he’s
cute that way.” She scratched Forrest’s head and cooed, “Good boy. You’re a cute boy.” Forrest yipped as he relished her scratches from up high in Mike’s arms.

“Alisha, no straight male alive wants a bow sitting at the top of his head.” Mike set Forrest down, and the dog skittered away.

She studied Mike, his strong arms crossed over his chest, the tiny scars marring his face and arms. It was clear that Mike was not the kind of man to wear a bow or anything associated with femininity. “Well not all males can be big and burly like you.” She patted his bicep and noted how his muscle twitched under her touch. “Some just do the best with what they’ve got.”

“You think I’m big and burly,” he stated with a smirk, hoping that she liked big and burly.

She just smiled over her shoulder at him as she headed towards the kitchen. She wanted to laugh at him. He had to know he was big and burly. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water would be nice.” Although Mike glanced at the house as he followed her, he preferred watching her ass in her yoga pants.

Everything about the house was nice, the furniture, the pictures, the wainscoting, and crown molding. This was not the house of a single school teacher in her twenties. “This place is beautiful,” Mike said. “It’s not quite what I expected.”

She turned and gave him a look. “What did you expect?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

“You said you were a teacher. I guess I thought you’d have a condo or a small starter house. Do you live with your parents, or do you have a roommate?” She hadn’t mentioned them, so he doubted that. The house had a two-car garage, but he hadn’t noticed any extra cars in the driveway last night.

Alisha had expected this. Anyone who didn’t know her story was always surprised by her house. Honestly, she would have wondered the same thing. “No, I don’t live with my parents,” Alisha said softly.

Mike saw the regret in her eyes. He suddenly wished that he hadn’t asked.

“I grew up in this house.” She tried not to let the emotions overtake her. She didn’t want to break down in tears. She missed her parents. She knew they would’ve supported her through this, but she’d been robbed of their love and support.

She grabbed a glass from the shelf and went to the freezer to get some ice. “It’s bigger than what I need, obviously, but I couldn’t let it go.” She turned the handle on the tap and filled the glass. “My parents died seven years ago.” It still stung. She’d adjusted, but she still missed them.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, taking the glass from her. He’d lost too many friends and loved ones, but he was thankful that he still had his parents.

Alisha led him to the sofa in the family room that was off the kitchen. She sat at one end, resting her feet on the coffee table. She cradled her head in her hand as she rested her elbow on the armrest. He sat on the middle cushion, his leg brushing against hers. He wasn’t going to put any extra space between them.

He noted the family picture that hung over the fireplace. She looked so young. He’d place her in her teens.

She followed his eyes and looked at the picture. Her lips curved into a smile. “That was taken a few years before they died. I was a senior in high school. My brother, John, was in college.”

“It’s nice,” Mike said. He never knew what to say to people. There really wasn’t any ‘right’ thing to say. Everyone handled death differently, and he didn’t want to offend her. “You mentioned your brother yesterday. Are you two still close?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I see him and his family at least once a month. His daughters are seven and five.” She picked up her soda from the coffee table. “They’re adorable. They go to the school that I work at. I’m lucky that I get to see them in the halls.”

“That’s nice.” Mike moved his hand to his thigh and let his arm casually rest against her legs, nothing intrusive. He wanted to stroke her thigh, see how she’d respond, but the timing wasn’t right. “Can I ask how your parents died?” Sometimes getting the hard stuff out of the way helped.

Alisha studied the soda can. She squeezed it and felt the give of the thin aluminum. “They were coming home from dinner. They were hit by a drunk driver.” She took a swig of soda. She looked into Mike’s eyes and saw compassion. His exterior was tough, but she saw the kindness of his heart shine through in his expression.

“I’m told they didn’t suffer. He hit them head-on going about fifty. He’s paralyzed.” She scoffed. “At least he can’t hurt anyone ever again.” She gave Mike a weak smile. There was no happy ending to that tragedy. People stayed dead forever.

Mike ran his fingertips down her leg in an effort to comfort her. Her thigh twitched under his touch. “I’m glad I can be here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Thanks.” When he touched her leg, excitement spurred her blood to pulse faster. She tried not to focus on the pleasure. “They left the house to my brother and me. I wasn’t ready to sell. John understood that. He already had a nice house, so he didn’t need this one. I used some of my inheritance to buy him out. All of this is mine.” She looked around the room. “I’d trade it in an instant to have them back, but we both know that’s not how it works.”

Mike understood that better than most. He’d buried too many friends and seen how death tore the family apart long after the burial. He carried too many scars left from his self-flagellation caused by the guilt he carried for his part in their deaths. Cognitively he knew that he wasn’t responsible, but he couldn’t get the voices out of his head that blamed him for not preventing their deaths.

She didn’t want their talk to take them down a depressing path, so she changed the subject. “I almost called you last night.”

Mike looked into her eyes. “I wish you had,” he replied, continuing to stroke her leg through her yoga pants. He would have loved to be lounging on her sofa instead of parking his ass in the damp, little forest behind her house.

She smiled and her pulse raced a little more as his fingers continued their gentle caress. She hadn’t been touched by a man in so long. Too long. Her body was hyper-sensitive to his touch. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t asked him over last night. She wasn’t sure she’d want to kick him out the door, and she wasn’t ready for an overnight guest.

“I feel really stupid now.” She shook her head in embarrassment. “But last night,” she paused and rolled her eyes. “I got scared. Something fell outside and made this crashing sound. It freaked me out. I got the gun and racked the slide. When I realized that there was no problem, I wasn’t sure what I should do. I couldn’t remember how to clear the bullet, so I just left it in the chamber.”

Mike didn’t like hearing this. The man had been there. He’d seen the evidence, the Tic Tac and shoe print. He’d been close enough for her to know something was off. Mike debated telling her so that she wouldn’t feel like she’d overreacted, but that would be admitting that he had been there too. He didn’t want to go there. She’d probably think it was creepy that he was traipsing around her backyard without her permission.

Mike stood and looked around the room until he noticed the gun on the kitchen counter. “I keep a round in the chamber, but I have a lot more experience than you. I’m glad you didn’t try to clear it yourself if you didn’t remember how to do it. That will be the first thing we do today.” He walked to the kitchen.

“I brought it down here this morning,” Alisha walked to the counter and picked up the gun.

He took the gun from her and ejected the magazine. “You have to take the magazine out or you’ll end up with another bullet in the chamber.”  He pulled back the slide. “There’s your bullet.” He turned the gun over and the bullet fell onto the countertop. “Never point the gun at yourself to check the barrel of a gun to see if it’s loaded.”