Dearest Stalker: Part 1 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dearest Stalker Part 1

  Copyright© 2018 by Lane Parker

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part 2 Sneak Peek

  About the Author

  Dearest Stalker

  By

  Lane Parker

  Part 1

  Copyright© 2018 by Lane Parker

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Please visit me at:

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  Prologue

  Stalker

  Four Years Ago…

  I watched, my stare completely transfixed on the woman who was center stage, giving her valedictorian speech at the local high school graduation.

  Katherine Riley.

  I clenched my fists as they rested on my thighs, willing my emotions and my dick to stop trying to rule my actions.

  Kate didn’t belong to me, and she never would. But she damn well needed a protector, because everyone in her life had done a pretty shitty job of keeping her safe for the first eighteen years of her life.

  People called her Katie. But in my mind, she was Kate.

  The woman who was stumbling valiantly through her talk about goals, dreams, and education after graduation was way too much of an adult to ever be anything else but Kate.

  Had she ever been a kid?

  I expected that she hadn’t.

  I did know that she was smart.

  She was beautiful.

  And she was so damn brave that my heart felt like it was in a vise as I watched her struggle. I was pretty sure I was more worried about her making it through the speech than she was at the moment.

  Jesus! I knew what it was like to be uncomfortable in front of large crowds. Most people would probably never notice because I had become a master at hiding my discomfort, but I somehow knew this woman was going through hell.

  She seemed to radiate pain and hopelessness, even as she spoke of upbeat topics to the crowd.

  I could sense it.

  I could feel it.

  Even though I seemed to be the only one who noticed as I looked around at the crowd of smiling faces as Kate continued to speak.

  She was so fucking alone, and for some reason I didn’t understand, I felt that, too. Her mother had died just months ago, and all she had was a father who had never given a damn about her.

  I had to wonder what was going to happen to this smart, intrepid female once graduation was over.

  Godammit! I hated the thought of her leaving Florida. She had ability and intellect, but where was her opportunity to pursue her own destiny?

  Top of her class, yet she’d lived in poverty her entire life. Pretty fucking extraordinary.

  I clenched my fists harder, and locked my jaw, forcing myself to control the possessive emotions that threatened to swallow me whole.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? I don’t covet any woman. Never had.

  And the shit I was feeling was pretty unwelcome for a guy who was known for not having any discernable emotions.

  My reaction to Kate was visceral, primal, and I had no damn idea why I felt I needed to jump onto the stage, scoop her ass up, and make sure that she never experienced another day of deprivation for the rest of her life.

  I’d never felt like this before.

  But shockingly, the instincts were there.

  And they were damn near impossible to control, but I would master them. I always did.

  I can never have her. It doesn’t fucking matter how I feel. It’s impossible.

  It didn’t matter that I didn’t understand my bizarre connection to her. I was never going to act on those emotions.

  I could, however, make sure she was safe. I’d make sure that she would always be okay.

  I couldn’t ever touch her, but I could take care of her for as long as she needed me.

  I didn’t ever want her to be alone in the world now that her mother was gone.

  Even though my eyes never left her, my mind started to work on exactly how I could get close to her, but not too close.

  My dick was protesting because it wanted nothing more than for me to get just as damn close as possible to her so it could lose itself in Kate.

  So I could lose myself in her, too.

  Buried deep.

  Buried hard.

  Surrounded by the moist heat that I instinctively knew would send me over the goddamn edge.

  Son of a bitch!

  Not. Going. To. Happen.

  My body was tense as I tried to figure how much of my help she’d take.

  It was better if I was anonymous. I knew that.

  My eyes searched her face as well as they possibly could at a distance, taking in the dark smudges under her eyes, and the defeated downward curve of her shoulders.

  Nobody has ever taken care of this woman.

  She was only eighteen years old, and Kate already knew all of the harsh realities of life. She’d been living them for years.

  She needs a chance to get all the education she wants and deserves. Hell, she’s top of her class.

  I’d scanned the program before the ceremony had started. Kate had received scholarships. Several of them. But I had no idea what her plans really were now that her mother was gone.

  “Thank you for coming to see the graduating students today as we move on to the next chapter in our lives,” Kate mumbled, looking relieved that she could finally stop talking and get out of the limelight.

  I watched her as she left the stage, knowing that I’d always make damn sure I knew where she was and how she was doing.

  I’d always keep track of her because I knew I wouldn’t be able to help myself.

  I’d been fucked since the first time I’d laid eyes on her.

  In fact, I was pretty sure I’d just become her stalker.

  It wasn’t just a physical attraction. There was something else, something more…

  I stood with the rest of the crowd, clapping for her.

  God knew she deserved the accolades she was getting. It took a lot of guts to get up in front of this many people when it was the last thing she probably wanted to do.

  “You ready?” the woman beside me asked.

  I nodded as I put my arm around the beautiful female, and led her out of the auditorium, my brain distracted with ideas about what I could do to help Kate Riley.

  Chapter 1

  Kate

  The Present…

  I’m getting drunk at my own father’s funeral reception.

  I might be my father’s biological daughter, his only child. But I didn’t know a single person present.

  I felt more than a little awkward as I looked around the Blackwood mansion, the home of my late father, and his second wife.

  I want to get out of here.

  As a waiter went by, I snagged another flute of champagne, and then dumped my empty glass.

  I wasn’t usually much of a drinker, but I needed something to get me th
rough the reception.

  I gulped down half of the glass in one swallow, trying not to think about how many I’d already ingested. I’d taken every single one offered to me just to get through this event.

  Granted, my dad had never really been a father to me, even when he’d been married to my mom years ago. But the life he’d led after he’d divorced my mother and re-married another woman—an incredibly wealthy one—was completely foreign to me.

  The Blackwood family was filthy rich, a huge contrast to the poverty I’d grown up in.

  This isn’t an informal gathering for grief-stricken relatives and friends. It looks more like an enormous party. I don’t belong here.

  I plucked a handful of little sandwiches from another tray as a female waitress passed by, forcing her to stop politely, and hand me a tiny plate.

  Like I needed something to put the tiny sandwiches on? They be gone in less than a minute.

  The second she moved on, I devoured the meat-filled bread that was missing a crust, and then discarded the delicate plate.

  I slammed back the rest of the alcohol and dumped the empty flute, already wondering when I could find another waiter to get a refill.

  Stop, Katie! You can’t keep eating like a person who hasn’t seen food in months!

  Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I then let it out slowly, trying to calm my nerves.

  I was a stress eater. I always had been. Problem was, I’d never really had all that much food to comfort myself. Here, it was an anxiety smorgasbord, and I downed every bite I could get my hands on.

  But even after stuffing myself from every tray, and swilling as much alcohol as possible, I was still one big giant mess.

  I have to get out of here. I don’t belong here.

  All of the women were dressed in formal attire, but not necessarily the conservative, dark clothing used by mourners. I wondered if any of the attendees had ever even known my dad, or if they’d come just because it was a Blackwood event.

  Many people would kill to attend anything hosted by this prominent, billionaire family.

  But I wasn’t one of them. All I wanted was to escape.

  The black dress I was wearing was modest and plain, something I’d purchased cheap from a second-hand store because I hadn’t had anything appropriate for a funeral.

  My deceased mother had always told me that I could look as good as a rich person if I was handy with a needle and thread. Unfortunately, I’d never been able to master the seamstress thing like she had.

  Most of the men were in suits, which was probably appropriate considering the reason why we were all here. But the atmosphere was one of smooth sophistication, fake laughter, and nothing like my mother’s reception had been.

  Mom hadn’t been rich, but she’d been well-loved by her friends and co-workers. When she’d died over four years ago, those people had genuinely mourned her loss with a small memorial service.

  An event much different from the one I was attending now for my father.

  I noticed that not a single one of the party-goers had been present at the graveside when my father was buried earlier in the day—except for my stepmother and my stepbrother, Ben.

  I shuddered, and then rubbed the goosebumps on my arms. It was late winter in Southern Florida, but the temperatures were like summer compared to my current home near the university in Massachusetts. But my quivering body had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with my situation.

  My father was dead.

  I was officially all alone in the world.

  Not that the two of us had been close, not even remotely. But my father had been paying my college tuition and expenses that hadn’t been covered by scholarships. Granted, I’d already completed my coursework for my bachelor’s in computer science, and I was formally graduating from the university in a few months. But my goal was to get my master’s in software engineering. I’d already applied to several programs, and gotten accepted by every single one of them.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to have the money to attend a master’s unless I scored a job as a programmer, and worked full-time to support myself.

  I didn’t mind working hard. It’d done it my entire life. I had planned on rejecting my father’s support now that I had enough education to support myself. I just wasn’t sure I could get a position fresh out of college to support myself all that quickly. And I still didn’t have my diploma.

  I strolled around the perimeter of the large room nervously, a space obviously meant for parties, but I didn’t talk to anyone. I was intimidated by this many wealthy people all in one big room, and I didn’t know why. Maybe because I’d had to worry about where my next meal was coming from my entire life. I had nothing in common with people who did.

  I’m a computer nerd. I’d rather be working on something that matters.

  The whole memorial thing felt pretentious and uncomfortable. Was that the way a daughter was supposed to feel when her wealthy father suddenly passed away from a heart attack?

  I’ve had mixed emotions about my late father. He had been my blood, but he hadn’t supported my mother when I was a kid, and certainly not when I was a teenager after their divorce. Mom and I had lived poor while my father skipped out on any and all support to my mother. I resented those years when my mother and I had worked our asses off just to keep food on the table. However, when Mom had died near the end of my senior year in high school, my dad had finally stepped in to pay my way through college.

  I really hadn’t seen him during the last four years as I’d earned my degree in Massachusetts, so nothing had really changed. But my tuition balance always got paid, and I’d had enough money for living expenses.

  So really, I was grateful for my education, and how he’d contributed.

  Getting a job at the bar in Massachusetts while I was getting my bachelor’s had been my idea, my way of saving. I’d counted pennies while I was in college, saving as much as possible in case my father decided, at any time, to cut me off.

  After all, he’d never exactly been trustworthy. So the money coming in to pay my college fees had never been taken for granted.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have nearly enough in my bank account to support myself for any length of time.

  All I’d needed was few more months, time to get my diploma and a fulltime programming job.

  I snatched a couple more sandwiches, but I passed on the alcohol because my head was already buzzing, and the bubbly wine wasn’t doing a thing for my anxiety.

  The appetizers had just gone into my mouth when I noticed a tall, male figure standing beside me.

  I felt a light touch to my arm. “Katie? Are you okay?”

  I turned, and then hastened to swallow.

  Swallow, Katie. Swallow.

  It was my stepbrother, Ben Blackwood. Honestly, I didn’t know him well. In fact, we’d only met a handful of times, most of our encounters recent, and involving my father’s funeral, but I was relieved to see somebody I knew.

  I nodded, unable to speak because I had a mouthful of sandwiches to choke down. Ben Blackwood literally took my breath away. Aesthetically, he was so damn perfect. His dark hair and striking hazel eyes that seemed to change from moment-to-moment, mesmerized me. His perfectly ripped body filled out the custom suit he was wearing beautifully. His broad shoulders and massive chest made me wish we were closer. I’d have that perfect pair of muscular arms to throw myself into so I could sob out the sorrow that was locked inside me.

  “I know you don’t know many of the people here,” he said in a regretful baritone.

  I finally got the food down and found my voice. “That’s okay. My father and I weren’t exactly close.”

  Not close like in…we never spoke at all.

  My dad had never been around when I was kid, and I hadn’t seen him at all during college.

  There were only the text messages that he’d started sending me after I’d gone off to college.

  The only other thing that had been th
ere was the money. But I supposed I had to be grateful that he had cared enough to make sure I was okay financially. He hadn’t needed to. God knew he’d gotten along just fine by ignoring me for the first eighteen years of my life.

  “I’m really sorry,” Ben said sincerely. “Ian and I weren’t close to your father, either, but we had a father at one time.”

  I knew my stepbrothers had loved their dad. Unfortunately, the father they’d loved had been killed in a car accident almost six years ago.

  Ian Blackwood, my oldest stepbrother, had taken over Blackwood Technologies when his father had died. I’d never met Ian, and he hadn’t been able to make it home for my father’s funeral, but I couldn’t help but admire how he’d elevated the company since it had come under his and Ben’s leadership. The corporation had still been a computer technology leader when their father had been at the helm, but my stepbrothers had sent the Blackwood name into the stratosphere by picking edgier, savvier projects to develop.

  Like the robotic surgery project that I’d give anything to be part of. Maybe someday…

  Ben continued, “Maybe I can find Mom. I know she’d like to be with you.”

  “No!” I said emphatically. “I’m good.”

  I saw a tray of full glasses pass by, and I had to force myself not to take one.

  The last thing I wanted was to hang out with my stepmother. She was nice enough, and I knew she meant well, but being with her made me uncomfortable. I was still mourning Mom, even though it had been four years now since she’d died. It felt awkward to be with my father’s second wife, even though she’d been nothing but polite to me.

  “Were they happy together?” I asked before I could keep the words from flying out of my mouth.

  Ben gave me a weak smile. “I have no idea. Mom rarely talked about your father. They seemed to do their own thing a lot after about the first six months of their marriage.”

  Ben was hedging. I could see it in his expressive eyes. But I supposed it wasn’t good to speak ill of the dead, especially on the day of his funeral.

  I nodded, accepting the fact that I was never going to know my father through my stepbrother. More than likely, Ben resented him. And I certainly didn’t blame him for that. My dad had been a user, and he’d used their mother’s money like he’d earned it himself, which he hadn’t. My father had never really worked a day in his life.