In Love With a Serial Killer

Chapter Eight- Protection and New Improvements

"You didn't have to do that." I finally admitted in the car as he pulled into the driveway in front of my house. His hands remained still on the steering wheel as I felt his gaze fixated on me. At this moment, I found it impossible to read his eyes. I had found it quite easy until now.

"He was going to take advantage of you. Some kids need to be taught lessons...It is clear his parents aren't very parental." He said with anger in his voice.

"His parents own half the buildings in this town, Nick. His mother is one of the most high-powered lawyers in the history of this town. They are dangerous and untouchable."

"They didn't seem like it..."

"You can't just go around beating people up..."

"I tried to take the high road Vannah." He unbuckled his seat belt and turned toward me. "You need to understand something. Where I come from, people do not treat ladies like that. In fact, they open their car doors, pay the check, and treat them with respect. It is one thing I cannot let slide. Especially when it comes to you."

Before I could respond, he was outside my car and walking toward the barn.

"Come sleep inside. It's the least I can do for you...helping me."

"I prefer it out here. I can keep a close eye on the house. Make sure everything is alright."

"I am going to at least bring you stuff to make it more comfortable. No argument." I said as I went back into the house.

Scanning the house for things mother wouldn't miss, I took a large box out of the house with things he could use. As he opened it, he had a look on his face similar to a child opening a present on Christmas.

The first items were blankets, pillows, and books-some of my favorites. A lantern (that seems to never run out of batteries), a portable DVD player that only works with old movies, a heater, magazines, and some paper and pencils.

"I'm not sure if you are the artistic type as I am, but I thought you may spend a lot of time out here...at least you can draw..."

"I don't do well, but thank you for the thought." He said as he gave me a kind smile.

He began placing the objects in a comfortable arrangement before turning back at me.

"How is your stomach?" I asked, desperate to hear that soothing voice.

"Doesn't hurt much. Thank you."

As I turned to leave, I felt as if I were bothering him. He may have been tired or bored or annoyed but I was no longer able to tell his thoughts. This angered me more than anything.

"Vannah, can I ask you something?"

"Of course." I said, turning in surprise.

"Why are you doing this? I mean you just met me yesterday. How do you know I'm not some maniac?"

"A maniac wouldn't have saved my life back there. A maniac wouldn't be a gentleman."

"Can I ask you something?"

He nodded. "Anything."

"Why did you stay? You easily could have left early this morning..."

"I can't. I feel like I need to be here for some reason..."