My Pulse

Chapter 1: Quinn Keane

A sudden chill seared down my spine and rippled through me. It was a feeling I had recently become familiar with—the unmistakable sensation of being watched.

Contemplating turning around for the third time to scan my surroundings, I took note of a man sitting alone near the window. An older gentleman sat to my left, and a woman with a two-year-old was walking in from outside.

He was here; I could feel it. My stalker always had his eyes on me, even in the privacy of my own apartment. Pretending to stare out the window, I registered the dreary day and the grey clouds sitting low in the sky. I was at Kelly's café, my favorite local coffee shop on the corner of Saint Street, downtown Galway.

As I started to turn toward the front counter, my eyes locked with the man who had previously caught my attention. His dark green eyes cascaded into a brilliant yellow that hypnotized me in place.

As if I were under a serpent's spell, his eyes produced a chilling siren call that froze me in place.

And I felt like prey. I had never felt more like a cornered animal in my life.

The man's lips lifted in a slight smirk, and my breath faltered in my chest. The pit lodged in my stomach dropped lower, swirling into a restless heat in my core.

In that moment, there was no doubt in my mind that this man would devour me alive and lick me off his fingertips one by one.

The barista said my name, and I quickly recovered my composure. My shaking hands reached out to grab my coffee, gripping it for dear life.

My heart pounded violently in my chest, threatening to stop at any moment. I nodded to the barista, who gave me a worried glance.

Mustering up the courage to look back at the corner, I anticipated seeing a snake. However, my body jolted when I realized no one was there anymore.

All of my good-natured instincts were on high alert. How could I be trembling and buzzing at the same time?

A lethal combination, a mix of life and death, the rush of feeling alive on the edge of an abyss. I could sink or swim, and it thrilled me.

On high alert, I left Kelly's and turned the corner on Saint Street. A strong figure collided with me, and my heartbeat jumped into my throat.

The man grasped my shoulders to steady me and attempted to ensnare me once again with his eyes.

"Watch out there, love; you wouldn't want to fall into my hands," the man said in a deep Irish accent.

His voice vibrated through every cell in my body like my own personal tuning fork, and I closed my eyes to protect my soul. "Open your eyes, sweetheart," he challenged as his calloused fingertips danced over my cheek, sweeping the hair from my eyes.

My body's reactions warred with my mind as a shudder racked my system. I blinked my eyes open, unable to ignore the control this stranger had over me.

"You... you... were just in the coffee shop," I stammered, trying to step back out of his reach.

"Aren't you perceptive?" He chuckled, giving me a sly smile.

Oh, he wanted me to tremble and feel small, feel helpless. The man was undoubtedly dangerous, but his smile had a playful edge to it.

Playing with fire, my eyes fixed on his, and I crushed his expectations with a dark gleam of my own.

"A woman knows when she's being watched," I said, stepping forward in challenge. "And a really smart woman knows not to falter when cornered by a snake."