I’m in her firewall. She’s under my skin. I don’t need to creep down dark alleys to stalk her. I have the internet. I have her passwords. I have everything.
Barbara thinks she knows me—the loudmouthed, cocky brother-in-arms of her best friend’s boyfriend. The one who’s always too much, too boisterous, too inappropriate. She doesn’t know the other me.
The one who lives in the shadows of her devices. I see her through her cameras. Hear her through her mic.
Watch her play our favorite game at night, hair in a messy bun, soft little sighs spilling into my headset while she’s convinced I’m just another player, another anonymous stranger online.
She thinks she hates me. But she can’t stay away from me online. And she has no idea the man behind the screen is the same one who watches her move through her apartment like a living fever dream.
I’m not an assassin like Killian. Not a vigilante like Damien. I’m a different kind of predator—one who worms his way past firewalls the same way he worms his way into a life.
Barbara doesn’t realize she’s already mine. But soon, she’ll understand: The shadows she can’t escape aren’t on her walls. They’re me.
