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harms me or breaks into my home. By then it would be too late. I don’t like guns so I don’t have any protection to speak of. Hell, I don’t even have a dog. For the first time in my life, I feel truly alone in the world. Vulnerable.
    I grimace as I think of the one person that I could consider calling for advice or help…or, God help me, a cup of coffee. Dr. Liam Sheldon Chambers. How pathetic that, in my hour of need, the only person I can think of to call is practically a stranger.
    Well, as they say, it is what it is.
    I gather my things, swallow my pride, and make a beeline for home to make that call.



Chapter Ten
    Liam
    I finger the ominous manila envelope that was waiting for me when I arrived at work this morning. No return address, but my name is neatly typed in sparse, block letters. I open it and a glossy 8x10 photo slides out. And there’s a note, no doubt penned by Lance’s hooded protégé.
    How dare you try and take her from me?
She’ll never be safe as long as she’s free.
    Madonna’s blue eyes dominate the photo. Her gaze seduces me, guilelessly captivating and vulnerable, in much the same way as when I encountered her at the hospital that first, fateful day.
    He’s coming for her. Her life as she knows has already ground to a staggeringly abrupt halt and she has no idea. I’ll never forgive myself if her stalker and, by association, Liam, get to her because I didn’t act.
    I wish I could shield her from the events that are about to unfold, but I can’t. No one else can protect her, no one else knows how. I can only hope my dark addiction will save her – and that I don’t lose myself as I bring my perverse fantasy to life.
     



Chapter Eleven
    Madonna
    Seeing the hooded guy in the library has me shaken up. I keep wracking my brain trying to figure out why he would say he’s going to kill me. And why has he always looked at me like he knows me? Maybe he has me mixed up with someone else because I know that I’ve never seen him before these two recent encounters.
    I gather my things and stand at the library doors for about ten minutes, anxiously peering up and down the street. I finally muster up the courage to leave, mainly because the librarian is beginning to eye me with suspicion. When I’m finally convinced he isn’t coming back, I hurry down the street toward my apartment.
    At times like this I’m grateful I thought about security when I rented the place. The doorman and the security guard give me some peace of mind in my own home. I make up my mind to tell the doorman I have a stalker. I’ll leave out the part about the death threat since I don’t want to be labeled as the crazy lady who’s overreacting. When I’m out doing volunteer work or running errands I’ll have to be on guard, but at home I refuse to live in fear.
    I’ve spent my life being independent, there has never been anyone to pick up the slack. I don’t care how deranged this man is, I refuse to allow him to disrupt my life. I’ve never given that kind of power to anyone so I’m damn sure not going to start now.
    I need to find out who he is. I’d assumed he was a patient at the hospital when I saw him in the recreation room on the psych ward. But now I doubt that assumption because a patient wouldn’t be able to track me down outside the facility. Maybe he just followed me to my volunteer job, or he could be an outpatient. If he’d escaped from the hospital as an inpatient they’d be looking for him and I’m certain I would have heard hospital gossip about that by now. The more I think about it, the more confusing it all becomes.
    I consider calling Liam tonight and telling him about the man. I need to let someone know because, let’s face it, if the stranger killed me in cold blood no one would even know I was gone. I guess after I didn’t show up for my volunteer reading sessions or the doorman didn’t see me for weeks they would figure out something bad had happened, but by then it would be