been living my days on autopilot. Then when my thoughts become consuming, I drive along her street, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and calming the turmoil inside of me. As much as I’m being a fucking stalker, I still haven’t seen her and I’m worried. Is she recovering from her procedure? What do her parents know?

Work has been the same, no one has mentioned Ivy, whether she’s sick or not, and I can’t just fucking ask because that will look suspicious. Emmett has been coming by more often to talk to Vin and Ember, I heard him saying something about training Carmelo in New York. He fucking needs it.

There’s been no talk of Ivy and I would know because I’ve become an obsessive stalker. She could be carrying my fucking child.

I turn on her street again and notice a cop car coming in the other direction. I’m suddenly on alert because cops are never on this street. What the fuck happened? I pull over about three houses down from the Greenes and watch as the cop slowly passes their house, slowing down to a crawl as he drives by. My skin breaks out in goosebumps with just how creepy he looks.

He drives by me and doesn’t give my car a second look. I get a good look at him though, he’s older, maybe late forties, with salt and pepper hair. He has a scar that runs through the beard on his left cheek and it stands out on his face. That was all I could get in the quick drive by, but something is telling me that he’s doing exactly what I am, only not for the same reasons.

What could the Greenes have done to piss the cops off? Emmett is the fucking chief. Maybe they need me to keep a watch on shit because they don’t know that’s happening, right? They’re obviously busy as fuck and there may be a pregnant girl in the house, I should be here.

I throw the seat back and settle in for a bit, might as well make sure things are okay before I go home to bed. You can never be too sure of what’s in your neighbourhood, even this upscale one. Isn’t it like a statistic for every neighbourhood there’s at least a few pedophiles? Whitsborough may be small and boring, but fuck, pedophiles probably like that.

It’s midnight when I get home and I’m staring at my fucking phone deciding if I should message her or not. She should know that it looked like a cop was scoping out her house today. Yeah, but then she’d know I was there doing the same thing, only I have a reason to! I lay back in bed with a groan, why did I say all those things to her? I was so angry and I still am but I shouldn’t have been so fucking hateful. She’s alone and dealing with something that will change her life forever and I basically spat on her.

I want to know who else she was fucking, it’s bothering me just as much as the pregnancy itself, and I know the way my fucking brain works, I won’t be able to let it go. Is she still fucking them? What made her want to fuck someone else anyway? I thought we were fucking amazing together. I could pop by her school tomorrow, I mean it’s mostly for her, and to see if everything looks okay. Maybe she was fucking a classmate and now they know she’s pregnant. What if they want to shove her down a flight of stairs? Trip her as she’s leaving.

I think she needs me to be close by and keep an eye on things.

My cough into the phone this morning was fucking pathetic, Vin knew it too but told me to stay home and rest. No can do, I need to make sure his daughter is okay. So, here I am, sitting in a high school parking lot watching as students take their time getting to class. At about five minutes after the bell rings, I see Ivy pull up.

She parks her car closer to the entrance and gets out. Her hair shines in different shades of brown and red, her skin is a bit paler than usual but she has this rosy glow to her cheeks. She’s so fucking beautiful. Her face is a mask of indifference but I see in her eyes the worry she’s holding inside. I want to get out and pull her into my arms, tell her I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to her. But then she’ll probably slap me across the face and kick me in the balls.

With her backpack slung over her shoulder, she saunters to the front doors, her ass swinging in that fucking kilt, and I’m rock fucking hard. No other female has ever given me these primal responses and I know she’s probably the only one that ever will. As fucked up as our situation is, Ivy and I were made for each other. Does she feel that too?

When the coast is clear, I get out of my car and head around the side of the school. There’s a large track and baseball diamond to the left, then what looks to be a building for the athletics department. Off to the right is another building that looks like a church or temple and it has a huge glass dome on top. The sign on the front says Precious Blood Arts Department. I have never set foot in such a prestigious school. There are a few students walking towards both buildings but for the most part, it’s quiet. I find a bench and wait out the day and if she sees me, I’ll admit everything I’m doing.

I hope she doesn’t see me.

Lunch rolls around and I head back to my car, not really wanting to look like an older creep scoping out high school

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