“Yes,” he whispered, weak with relief. It was okay. She was inside.
He didn’t have to wait much longer. He was looking for a better spot to watch the entrance of the building when, lo and behold, he glanced up, and there she was. Before the door shut behind her, she was surrounded by a halo of light. He actually gasped at her sheer beauty. He blinked, and for a second her face magically changed, and he saw his beloved Nina. He blinked again and saw now only the woman. What had caused his mind to play such a trick? Perhaps it was her dark hair. Perhaps, too, it was because she was the one, the perfect chosen one.
He felt the tightness gathering in his chest. Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him. He was clearly visible where he stood, and so he quickly knelt on one knee, pretending to tie his shoes, while the stranger, carrying a sack of groceries, passed him. He kept his face averted until the man disappeared. A clap of thunder ripped the sky. He knew he had to act fast. The wind had picked up and was howling. He pulled his baseball cap down farther and took a deep breath just as the clouds opened.
She was ahead of him now, her long-legged stride a sight to behold. He stepped out of his hiding place, oblivious of the wet slap of the rain against his cheeks, and watched her. Appreciated her. Her skirt was short, but not trashy short. In the misty light from the streetlamps her skin looked golden.
A golden girl, that’s what she was to him, the prize he would snatch in just seconds. He tried to savor every little detail about her. He wanted to remember everything, the way she held herself, the way she smelled, the way she felt when he grabbed her.
She had such beautiful strong legs. She was so like his Nina before the accident. Yes, just like her. Like his wife, she moved with elegant grace, her head held high, her hips gently swaying.
His mind rebelled against making the comparison, or was that the demon cautioning him not to think such dangerous thoughts? No, she couldn’t possibly compare to his Nina. There was business to be done. Quid pro quo. With that singular thought in mind, his hand slipped into his pocket, his fingers coiling around his new knife… just in case.
He took that first step toward her and shouted, “Wait!” She didn’t slow down, and so he ran at her and shouted again. This time he heard the fury in his voice.
She turned, her gaze catching him as she pivoted.
He stopped so suddenly he actually rocked on the balls of his feet. In horror, he watched her fall. Her left leg simply folded underneath her, as though her bone had melted. She crashed to the pavement and cried out in pain. He put his hands over his ears to block the sound. It all seemed to transpire in slow motion, just like the car accident of years past. Exactly like that. The tortured look on her beautiful face before the metal imploded on her legs.
His mind couldn’t take it in. What had just happened? He staggered back, then stopped. The poor thing. She was in pain, her leg useless now, and, oh, she was so like his Nina.
He should help her, shouldn’t he? He knew he wasn’t making any sense. Why did he have this nearly overwhelming desire to help someone he was determined to destroy?
He didn’t know what to do. He stood there looking at her. He backed farther away but continued to watch her struggle to get up. Twice she almost made it before she collapsed again. Poor, poor thing. He thought she might be crying, but the wind snatched the sound before it reached him.
He couldn’t stop staring at her, and she kept her eyes locked on him while she tried to get back on her feet. There was a connection between them. He felt it in his heart and in his soul where the demon lived.
She broke eye contact first, turned, and limped away like a wounded animal, her open purse dangling from her arm.
She was headed to her car. He could hear the demon’s voice chanting in his ear. Get her. Get her. Get her. He bolted after her. He could hear himself panting as he closed the distance.
He was almost on top of her when he was suddenly blinded by bright lights. What the…? Ducking his head down, he turned, desperate to find the darkness again.
He hit something slick, went flying, and crashed into a tree, his right shoulder bearing the brunt. Cursing his own clumsiness, he looked down and saw what he had slipped on. It was a folder with papers spilling out. He bent down, hurriedly shoved the papers back inside, thinking he could use the folder to lure her out of her car.
He picked it up and shouted to her again, but she wouldn’t stop. Too late. He was too late. She was already backing her car out of the parking space.
Filth spewed from his mouth, obscene words he hadn’t even known were part of his vocabulary and he had certainly never uttered before. He found it impossible to stop the foul litany. He was losing control of himself, could feel himself slipping away, acquiescing to the demon.
Concentration was difficult, and he tried with all his might to focus. The car that had blinded him had its blinker on, obviously waiting for her parking space. His beautiful, golden prey had stopped. Why wasn’t she leaving? What was she doing?
He ran across the lot keeping her car in sight. The lights made him squint. He reached up to pull the bill of his baseball cap down lower. The cap was gone.
Could she see him through his disguise? Could she see his hatred? She wasn’t moving. What could she be doing? Oh, God, a cell phone. She probably had a cell phone and was using it right this second. She was calling 911. That’s what she was doing.
He panicked. He actually ran around in a circle while he tried to think what he should do. If she was calling the police, how long would it take them to get here?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The cap. He had to get his baseball cap back-it had his fingerprints all over it-and then he needed to get out of the park.
He raced back to the tree he’d crashed into, dropped to his knees, and began to search in the dark. What’s this? His hand curled around a silver cell phone, and his heart leapt with joy. She hadn’t called the police. When she’d dropped her folder, she’d also dropped the phone. Yes, yes, it had to be hers.
Relief flooded over him until he remembered he needed to find his cap. Where was it? Frantic now, his mind screamed hurry, hurry. And then he found it and let out a low, anguished sob. Jumping up, he started running to safety, clutching the folder and the cell phone and his cap in his hands, his mind in such a confused state, he could barely concentrate.
He couldn’t hear himself think. The roar of the demon blocked out all other sounds.
Chapter Twelve
He came out of nowhere. He was running toward her. She could hear his footsteps on the pavement as she was turning. His face was twisted in rage. He was a big, muscular man. What was he doing? And why was he so angry?
Her mind tried to make sense out of why he was there. He was probably a jogger who just got caught in the rain. Maybe he was trying to get to his car just as she was trying to get to hers, and when she turned toward him, she’d so surprised him that he’d stopped.
No, no. There was something all wrong about him. Without understanding why, she knew the anger was directed at her.
Her instincts were screaming at her to get out of there. Fear, a powerful motivator, overrode the pain in her knee as she struggled to get up off the ground.
Her car key still dangled from the bracelet on her wrist. It was a miracle it hadn’t slipped off in the fall. The car was safety. Run, her mind screamed. Run.
The rain was pouring now. Head down, she stumbled to get to her car.
Was he coming after her? She dared a quick look back. Oh, God, he was running at her, closing the distance.