Stalker (A Dark Romance Novel) Read online

  “So what is this all about?” he asked as I finished curling my hair and was starting to put on my makeup.

  “What’s all of what about? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “Well, you’re going to work in a factory, right?”

  “Yes,” I replied, hoping the conversation wasn’t heading in the direction that I thought it was.

  “Aren’t most factories dirty and dingy?”

  “I guess so, although this place is actually really clean. Besides, I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It’s not like I’m dressed in any of my nice clothes.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Kayla. What’s the deal with the hair and makeup?”

  “You have a problem with me wanting to look nice on my first day of work?”

  “Not necessarily, but let me ask you a question. How many women work at this factory?”

  “I don’t know, Dillon. I haven’t started yet.”

  “Okay, but you were there for your interview, right? How many women did you see?”

  “I don’t know, a few?”

  “Right, a few. That means the majority of the people that are going to be working there are men, right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Exactly, so don’t play me for a fool. The hair, the makeup, you’re doing that all so you can look nice for the men at work.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? You do realize that I’ll be working in an office with another woman, right? I’m getting made up to make myself look good, not because I’m going to be around a bunch of guys.”

  “I’m sure that has nothing to do with it.”

  “What is the matter with you today? I get that you're upset about all of this, but what have I ever done to make you think that I would be unfaithful or try to get the attention of other men?”

  “Nothing, I suppose.”

  “No, I’m not going to accept that answer. You’ve obviously got something in your head so why don’t you tell me what it is? Why makes you think that me doing my hair and makeup has anything to do with the guys I’ll be working around?”

  “Honestly? Why don’t you tell me when the last time you did your hair for me was? What about the last time you put on your makeup to look good for me? You stopped doing all of that shit for me a long time ago. Even when we go out with drug reps, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and that’s it. You’re getting more made up to go into a building full of strangers than you’ve done for me in years.”

  I was getting furious but was trying my best to keep my composure. The last thing I needed was to get upset and start crying before my first day. It would wreck my mascara.

  “I can’t do this right now, Dillon. I can’t believe you would want to do this right now.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I said through gritted teeth as I stormed out of the bathroom, grabbed my things, and made my way towards the front door.

  “Try to have a good first day at work,” he yelled as I was slamming the front door behind me. I responded with a middle finger in the air that he couldn’t see unless he had developed x-ray vision.

  I had to sit in my car for a few moments before I could start it. I felt like he’d just started the fight with me in an attempt to ruin my first day. That had to be it, right? But the things he was saying, was he wrong?

  4

  Dillon

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. My penchant for fucking things up and making small matters huge was on full display that morning.

  There was no ill will or any intention of starting an argument before she left. We hadn’t had much time to talk lately, and I wanted to see her off to work since I didn’t have any morning appointments.

  My first instinct was to feel bad for upsetting her. I thought about sending her a text message since I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get her if I called her. I even picked my phone up and entered my passcode to unlock it before becoming disgusted with myself and putting it back down on my desk.

  I was tired of always being the one who had to apologize. I was sick and tired of everything being my fault. It wasn’t like anything that was coming out of my mouth was a lie. She didn’t do her hair for me anymore. She didn’t put on makeup for me like she used to. She didn’t do anything anymore.

  What was worse is that I wasn’t supposed to ever bring it up. Anytime I even hinted at the subject; she would change the topic to something completely different. She tried to be subtle about it, but I knew exactly what she was doing.

  I listened for her to start her car and leave before I left the house. I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore right then. I had a few afternoon appointments and wanted to go ahead and get into the office so I could try to clear my head. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to do that at home.

  I had three patients that afternoon, and I treated them professionally as always, but my mind was definitely on my wife and the argument at home. The more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder if I hadn’t been wrong all along.

  Maybe I really was an asshole. She’d been staying at home for our entire marriage, cooking and cleaning an almost constantly empty house. I thought women loved a hard worker, but I also understood the concept of being lonely. Maybe getting out of the house and working would be good for her. It would give her some human interaction and allow her to talk to people instead of sitting alone all day.

  It was bizarre walking into a dark, empty house. Usually, Kayla would have her music playing, and the aroma of whatever she was cooking would hit my nose before I even made it through the door that connected the house to the garage.

  The feeling was almost surreal as I placed my keys in the small glass bowl that we kept on a tiny table next to the door and they clinked off the bowl instead of falling on top of hers. The sound echoed throughout the house.

  I hadn’t eaten since early that morning, and I was starving. I was debating between pizza and Chinese when I opened the door to grab a beer and saw a large dish inside with a note on top of it. I grabbed the piece of paper and opened it up.

  Sweetheart,

  I know that you don’t like the idea of me going back to work and I just wanted to thank you for not giving me a hard time about it. I know you’re used to dinner being on the table when you get home and although this isn’t quite on the table, I hope it gets the job done. Throw this in the oven for 20 minutes at 350 degrees. There’s some of that cheese garlic bread that you like in the freezer. I hope you had a great day at work. See you tonight.

  Love always,

  Kayla

  I pulled back the foil and saw that she’d made lasagna, my favorite dish. If I wasn’t already feeling like a schmuck before, I sure as shit was after reading that. I never denied the fact that Kayla was an amazing woman. On her first day of work, she got up early, prepped and cooked an entire lasagna just so I’d have dinner when I came home.

  Sighing, I grabbed a beer, turned the oven on and sat down on the couch. I really was a lucky man. Sure, she and I hadn’t been on the same page for quite a while, but we still loved each other. At least I thought we did. I know that I loved her, but was she still feeling the same about me, especially after the fight that morning? The note said love always, but I couldn’t really remember the last time she told me she loved me without me saying it first.

  I had another beer once I popped the lasagna into the oven and grabbed one to have with dinner once it was done. Kayla hated it when I drank beer with dinner. I could almost hear her telling me how unsophisticated it was as she grabbed a bottle of wine like she had done during countless dinners over the years.

  What the hell, I thought to myself before walking over to the wine rack and grabbed a bottle of Rioja Crianza, a wine that my wife would describe as a medium-bodied red wine, whatever that means. I popped the cork, poured a glass and sat down to have my dinner.

  It only took one bite for me to realize what a jackass I’d been that afternoon. Here I was
giving her shit over something as petty as her hair and makeup after she’d taken the time to make a lasagna for me for dinner. I made a mental note to apologize for the fight and thank her for dinner. It tasted much better than whatever take out I would have been eating otherwise.

  As I ate, I started to wonder about how Kayla’s first day of work was going. I hoped that she had been able to put our fight out of her mind and at least try to have a good day. It would suck if her first day ended up being shitty because of my stupid insecurities.

  When I finished eating, I put the leftover lasagna back in the fridge so Kayla could have some when she got home, rinsed my plate and stuck it in the dishwasher, and downed the rest of my wine before putting the wine glass in with the plate.

  Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed the remote and sat down on the couch to see if there was a game on. Before I could even turn on the television, my mind went straight to Kayla. More specifically, I started thinking about the fact that she had got a job at a factory where most of the other employees were men. Men who I’m sure would have no problem flirting with a cute girl like my wife.

  I knew for a fact that my wife would never cheat on me, but that didn’t stop the jealous feelings from developing deep within my gut. I closed my eyes and could just imagine all the men introducing themselves to her. Maybe they shook her hand, or maybe they greeted her with a touch on the shoulder or arm, a touch so insignificant but carrying so much meaning. I could guarantee that they were checking out her ass as she walked away. That is one of her best features after all.

  Rubbing my eyes and shaking my head, I tried to get the images out of my mind. The last thing I needed was to let these feelings fester in my head and lead me to overreact to something that wasn’t even there. Sitting on the couch wasn’t going to help me do that.

  I looked down at my watch and saw that it was only 8:00 pm. The shift she’d been hired for was from 11:00 in the morning to 11:00 at night, so it was still going to be quite a while before she got home.

  Lately, I’ve retired to our office after dinner to jump on the computer. I’ve always told Kayla that I have patient files to catch up on, but it isn’t true. Since our sex life has been on life support, I’ve gone up to the office to relieve myself. Even though she has a desk and computer in the office as well, she always reads after dinner, so I never had to worry about being caught.

  I started to walk towards the stairs that lead down to our finished basement, which is where our office is located, but I realized I didn’t have to do that tonight. Instead, I grabbed my laptop and made my way to our bedroom. If the house was empty, I was going to take advantage of it.

  I made myself comfortable on the bed, opened my laptop and logged into my favorite porn website. It’s not your typical site, though. It caters to a very specific fetish. A fetish that I’ve kept to myself for the years since I’ve discovered it. A fetish that I wouldn’t dare tell anyone I was into.

  I surfed through the videos for about 15 minutes until I found one I liked. It’s not bad enough that I’m into a very specific fetish, but I also need the woman in the video to look a very specific way or else I can’t get into it.

  Once I found what I was looking for, I slid out of my pants and pulled my cock out of my boxer briefs. Watching videos like the one on my screen made me so hard. I paced myself to match the 20-minute video, only climaxing when the man pounding the woman did.

  There was something extra relaxing about being able to relieve myself in bed instead of down in my office. I put my laptop on the floor and turned on the television so I could find something to watch until Kayla got home.

  5

  Kayla

  I felt like I was in a maze as I tried to remember how to get back to the time clocks so I could punch out and go home for the night.

  “You did a great job tonight, Kayla,” a voice said from somewhere in the darkness.

  “Thanks,” I replied, having no idea who I was talking to. “Hey, I don’t remember how to get to back to the time clock.”

  “Follow me; I’m out of here for the night too.”

  Emerging from the darkness was Mark, one of the men who had been showing me around the plant earlier. He was sweaty and dirty from working with the machines, and his t-shirt was clinging to the muscles in his arms. I caught myself staring and forced myself to look away.

  Mark smirked, and I could feel my face beginning to blush. He was younger than me by almost a decade, but he was extremely attractive. He had piercing blue eyes and the kind of soft smile that I’m sure made many women putty in his hands.

  “So how did your first night go?” he asked.

  “I think it went about as well as it could have. I’ve never even stepped foot in a factory before, much less worked in one.”

  “I could see how it would be confusing to someone who’s never been in one.”

  As we got closer to the back offices where the time clock was located, I was amused by how bright the hallway was in contrast to the darker factory. It was like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

  “Thanks for bringing me back here,” I told Mark as I slid my time card into the slot.

  “It’s no problem at all. Were we nice enough to get you to come back tomorrow or did we scare you off for good?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I giggled, instantly embarrassing myself. “I guess I’ll decide that on my car ride home.”

  “I see. Well, if you decide to come back, I’ll show you a trick to know how to get around here. Believe it or not, there is a method to the madness as far as the layout goes.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “It’s a date then,” he said, extending his hand for me to shake.

  When I reached up, I noticed that he was checking out my ring finger, which was completely bare at the moment. I always remove my jewelry when I take a shower, and after the fight with Dillon that morning, I’d forgotten to put any of it back on.

  Noticing him looking at my ring finger made me look down at his. There was no ring on his either. I could have told him I was married right then, but what if his looking at my hand was all in my head? Maybe I was just hoping he was looking because it would be fun to get some form of attention from a man since my husband sure as hell doesn’t pay any attention to me anymore.

  Mark walked me back to the front of the building, where I grabbed my lunch box and the bundle of papers that had been given to me by human resources.

  I hoped that the fight Dillon and I had that morning would be blown over by the time I got home. There were a few times at work that I’d debated calling him to tell him that I may have overreacted, but I decided giving him a little bit of space was probably a much better idea.

  During the drive home, I reflected back on the first night of my new job. I had been under the impression that it was strictly office work, but there was a lot more to it than that. I also had to walk around the plant several times, stopping in at all the different departments to see if any outstanding issues needed to be attended to. If so, I opened a ticket to take care of whatever needed to be taken care of.

  In many ways, I enjoyed the fact that I wasn’t stuck in the office all night. Sure, I got lost in the plant several times and had to ask people where the hell I was, but I got to talk to so many people and have actual conversations.

  Dillon had been right about one thing. The factory was a complete sausage fest. I knew that the majority of employees there would be men simply due to the type of physical work that is done there, but I had no idea how skewed the numbers would be. On the 11 am to 11 pm shift, I was one of only three women in the entire plant. It was crazy, and while I planned on telling him all about my first day, that was a piece of information I was going to keep to myself.

  As I pulled my car into the garage, I was surprised by how excited I was to tell my husband about my night. I worried that he might not care or may not want to hear it, but I’d never know if I didn’t talk to him.

 
When Dillon and I first met, and for several years after getting married, we were basically best friends. We spent all of our free time together, talked non-stop, and could not get enough of each other. I wondered where things went so wrong. I missed our talks about nothing at all that would last for hours and all the fun we used to have together and wondered if it was gone forever or if there was any way we could ever get it back.

  Thinking about the state of our marriage caused tears to begin welling up in my eyes, which was the last thing I wanted. There would be time to talk about our marriage later. On that night, I wanted everything to be happy.

  When I walked into the house, the house was dark except for the small foyer light, which Dillon must have left on for me. Figuring he was downstairs in his office, I put my things down on the table and made my way down, but I could see it was dark down there before I even got to the bottom of the stairs.

  “Honey?” I called out, wondering where he was, but I was met with only silence.

  It wasn’t until I made it to the living room that I heard the faint sounds of the television coming from the bedroom. I poked my head in and saw him sleeping soundly. He must have fallen asleep watching sports highlights or something. He looked so cute and peaceful. I decided that when I climbed into bed, I was going to scoot right up to him and fall asleep on his chest, something that we hadn’t done in as long as I could remember.

  Starving, I walked back into the kitchen to have some of the lasagna I’d made for Dillon. I was honestly surprised to see that he’d left a note just like I’d made for him.

  Sweetheart,

  Thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to make sure I had something to eat when I got home. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m grateful you did. You and I both know that when it comes to cooking, it was not a skill I was blessed with. You on the other hand…