•30• Gerrard

I knew that car was trouble. 

When I'd seen it outside Priscilla's apartment building that day of the storm, I knew something was off about it. That's exactly why I'd gotten all riled up when she hadn't opened the door that day. 

It had scared the shit out of me. 

As she lies on my bicep, curled up against my chest, sound asleep, I'm cursing myself in my head. If I hadn't gotten carried away because of my damn hormones the night I stayed at her place, I could've asked her about the SUV. 

Things wouldn't have escalated so much.

I breathe out a frustrated sigh.

Something needs to be done about this stalker. 

And to be honest, I was working on this issue ever since he texted me, but that was before the office party came up; I'd just been so fucked up when Priscilla told me she was Ruben's date to the dinner that my mind just couldn't keep up with shit. Now, though, I'm only focused on one thing.

Who the fu