Run From You

Stalker

A month had passed since the Dexter Lord incident, and I was still alive, so I could now hope that he hadn't taken my slashing his face personally and didn't have a vendetta against me, which might involve killing me. Nor have the police hunted me down to press charges, so I assumed everybody had put it behind them, including me...except of course, my best friend, Airon. "You can't just forget about it, Ange! You should be looking over your shoulder every five minutes to check he's not got someone tailing you." She said dramatically, as we served coffee to the customers. Airon and I are playing our way through our university courses by working at a small Costa on the outskirts of the city during our days off.

"Airon, it's been a month. He's probably forgotten about it." I sigh, wiping down the machinery before making the next order of drinks.

"A girl slashing you across the face is not something you forget, Ange. And I can't believe you went for his face; I mean, come on! Did you have to get the face? It's so rugged and chiseled, and just down right ugh, " she shivers. "Orgasmic."

"I'd rather you didn't drool in the customers coffee."

"Ange, I know when you're angry you don't really process anything but you'd have to be blind not to notice how panty wetting delicious he is, and he KISSED YOU! Like bloody hell girl, one of the most dangerous men walking the planet kissed you!" She exasperated.

I was glad she couldn't see the disgusted face I was pulling; she was right, he was good looking in an 'I look so badass dangerous, I should be illegal' way, which appealed to the naughty side of most girls, me included, but that doesn't mean I'd let him get away with the way he'd treated me. "Am I supposed to care about any of that? He deserved what he got. Arrogant prick."

"Er...Ange...?" Trails Airon, her voice changing.

"What?" I ask from the supply room; its only when I look up as I reappear that I freeze. The whole café had fallen quiet at the entrance of a certain powerful looking individual and his three very intimidating followers. They looked about the place as if they owned it and it was in dire need of improvement, which naturally pissed me off. He in particular surveyed the café and everyone in it critically as he walked to the counter; one of his followers- one I recognized from the papers to be Dexter's right hand man- flashed Airon a megawatt smile, which he no doubt used to charm people into seeing things his way. The papers like to mention how well connected the two are; it's also one of the reasons Dexter and gamg got away with all the illegal things they did and why nobody could touch them... you couldn't prove it and insured Dexter had a damn good lawyer.

"Hey there, hot stuff," he charms Airon, winking. It does surprise me that he doesn't look that much older than us.

"Are you the only server today sweet cheeks?" My hand twitches; I really wanted to hit him; the implications of his question make my lip curl. Dexter couldn't see me from where I stood, but I could see him very clearly; a small part of me appreciatively drank in the pleasurable sight he presents in his casually fitted black jeans, tight black shirt and leather jacket, dark hair tousled and wayward as it falls over his features. The rest of me resented the fact he'd turned up here. Smugness makes it's way to my expression at seeing the stitches across the angry cut I'd left.

"Speak of the Devil and he shall appear." I sneer cutting in, saving Airon- who looked like a deer caught in headlights, "What? You stalk girls as well as sexually harass them?" I give him my back as I put away the supplies reloading the machinery.

"Only the ones who interest me," replies Dexter smoothly, I could feel his amusement. I tensed for a moment, silently counting down from ten and trying to remember he could easily have me killed with a click of his fingers. This reminder, however, angers me more and I have to start the process over again.