Whispered Words

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Gripping her side and praying the pain meant bruised and not broken ribs, Chloe King did her best to remain quiet and breathed through her mouth to counteract the pain. The crisp winter weather made her breath fog as she exhaled, and she shivered, wishing she’d worn a warmer coat. At least she was wearing black. She blended into the shadows better than she might have otherwise.

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re there. I’ve been watching you, waiting for you. Did you like the roses I sent you last week? Your favorite, I know. Well, Chloe, I’ve saved the best surprise for last. It’s time.” A shaft of moonlight flashed across the warehouse floor. She spotted where her pistol had fallen when the asshole had knocked it from her hands. So damn far away. Shit. For all that she’d worked on teams to defeat terrorism, drug gangs, and genocide, this particular stalker proved to be a handful. Who would have thought an average psychopath could be so much work?

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