Perfectly Matched. Lois Richer

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Perfectly Matched - Lois  Richer


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months is lots of time,” she told him optimistically. “I’m sure you’ll be all healed up by then.”

      “Oh, I’m healthy now. I asked for the six months so I could help Mom with Maggie, but I have to go back then for sure.” His response sounded less than thrilled.

      “Well, a job is good. Isn’t it?” Shay added when he got lost in his thoughts.

      “Yeah, a job is very good. Only I don’t like the thought of leaving Mom here, alone, to manage with Maggie,” Nick admitted. “It’s a lot for her to take on a kid Maggie’s age. Mom did so much for us, raising all of us on her own. She deserves to have some time for herself.”

      “Knowing your mother’s great big heart, I seriously doubt she feels that way.” Shay sipped her tea and made a mental note to talk to Mrs. Green about her arthritis. But first she had to deal with the past. “I need to say something to you, Nick.”

      “Go ahead.” He leaned back and waited.

      “I—uh, never did thank you properly for your help in New York.” She swallowed hard and forced herself to continue, feeling nauseous. “What you did for me—well, it was more than I ever expected. I just wanted to make sure you know how much I appreciate it.”

      “What are friends for, if not to chase away stalkers?” Nick joked. When she didn’t smile, his eyes narrowed. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

      “No. Why?” Panic reached out and clamped its hand around her throat, taking away her breath. Her fingers involuntarily pinched the fabric of her capris. “Have you heard something?”

      “Me?” Nick shook his head, his face confused as he studied her. “No.”

      “Oh. Good.” She knew she’d just made a fool of herself with her reaction, but she still struggled with a sense of dread. “I—I never heard from him again after you read him the riot act.”

      “That’s great.” Nick kept looking at her. “Isn’t it?”

      Shay offered an unconvincing nod, still unable to shake her memories of those horrible days.

      When the police couldn’t help, she’d fought to hold her world together on her own. And she’d been losing that war, until Nick arrived. She’d been so relieved to see a friend that day that she’d dumped the whole sorry tale on his broad shoulders. Being the good guy he was, Nick had insisted on knowing the details. Then he’d heard Dom’s voice, demeaning, threatening and mocking her.

      Shay couldn’t believe it when Nick told Dom he’d taped the conversation and threatened police action and reprisals from what Nick claimed were legions of Shay’s friends. It worked—she’d never heard from the stalker again—but she’d never been able to shed the panic from those months of persecution. She always felt Dom was out there, lurking, waiting for her weakest moment to appear again.

      “Did you ever figure out why this guy focused on you?”

      “No. The first couple of times he emailed me through my fan page, he was very nice. He complimented me on my latest cover, said he’d seen me on a talk show, asked if I might throw my support behind a pet hospital, that kind of thing. He was very friendly.” Shivers speed-walked up her spine. “But by the time you came to New York, he’d become very aggressive. He told me he’d touched me without my realizing it. I didn’t believe him, but then he gave details and I knew he’d been near. Too near.”

      “Nobody ever remembered seeing him?”

      “No, and believe me, I questioned everyone, though I never actually told anyone what was going on. Later I learned some of the other models had faced the same thing, so they would have understood how worried I was, but...” She shrugged. “At the time I was too scared and embarrassed to talk about it.”

      “Maybe he was someone you worked with.” Nick’s lips tightened into a grim line.

      “I thought of that. But I never had any concrete proof to give police, no personal details. After the fourth or fifth call, I think they stopped believing me. And he knew it.”

      “Hey, relax now. You’re safe here,” Nick reminded her.

      “Yes.” Shay inhaled to regain control. “It’s just...I have no idea how he found my number or knew my new address. I changed phones and moved, but that only seemed to aggravate him. Police traced the calls, but they always led to a dead end. Dom was very careful. When he did call—well, you heard him. He’d taunt me with what he’d do when we were alone—” She gulped and forced her breathing to slow. “Sorry. I still struggle a bit with his—you know.”

      “Abuse.” Nick’s cold, hard word made her flinch.

      “Well, yes.” She exhaled. “I tried a hundred different things. I ignored him. I monitored every move I made to see if I could figure out who he was. I became suspicious of everyone. But I was helpless. I had no idea how to—” Shay paused. It sounded weak and pathetic to say escape, as if she’d been a prisoner. Yet that was exactly what she’d felt like.

      “Shay, that kind of guy preys on people through fear. But he’s gone. You can forget about him now.” He studied her.

      “I know. I will be fine,” Shay said, determined to make it so.

      When she thought about how it all began, she felt foolish. Too well she recalled how the innocent-seeming online friendship had changed into something menacing after Dom had found out she’d given the flowers he sent her to someone else. That’s when she’d started to feel uncomfortable. But she didn’t think of contacting the police until odd messages were left on her voice mail. Crazy, untraceable phone calls showed up on her cell when she went to lunch with her friends or took a break at work. He always seemed to know where she was. But worst of all were his increasingly hateful comments. They seemed to hint that violence could explode if she said or did something to provoke him, and that had scared her into a shivering mass of fear.

      Until Nick, her rescuer, arrived.

      But even after, even when she’d left New York and modeling, it had taken months of intense therapy to attain an occasional night of uninterrupted sleep, free of his voice, his taunts that he would find her when she least expected it. Those words haunted her, so much so that they’d ruined her relationship with Eric, the man she thought she loved. She could barely breathe when his arms closed around her—all she wanted was to run from him. Finally her memories had pushed Eric away and she’d lost what she wanted most—love.

      Still Shay was determined she would vanquish Dom and overcome the terror that he’d planted in her brain.

      Please, God?

      Nick must have read the tumult of emotions in her eyes. He leaned forward, his dark eyes almost hidden beneath his jutting brow, and spoke slowly but with unshakeable resolve.

      “Shay, you cannot spend the rest of your life worrying about whether or not this crazy person will come back.”

      “I know.” She inhaled. “I’m here in Hope to start over. And I’m really trying. It’s just—I can’t seem to forget the ugly things he said.”

      “You will.”

      “Can you imagine if anyone besides you had overheard his words to me?” Her cheeks burned. “I would have felt so ashamed. The things he said—” She couldn’t go there. Not with Nick watching her. “I’m ashamed that I couldn’t stop him on my own.”

      “You did the best you could, Shay.”

      “Did I?” She shook her head. “I wonder about that now.”

      “Why do you doubt yourself?” Nick demanded.

      “It would have been better if I’d told more people about him.” Keeping her secret had weighed heavily. Even Eric hadn’t known until that last, horrible date, and by then he didn’t want any explanations—he wanted a girlfriend who showed her love, not some shrinking


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