Stalker

"When she closes her eyes to imagine her dreams, all she can see is him."

Chloe couldn't shake the feeling that she was acting like a total stalker.

Scratch that—she was a stalker, plain and simple. She knew it was wrong, but she felt like she had no other choice. She couldn't afford to beat around the bush with Ace anymore.

All Chloe really knew about Ace was bits and pieces—like how his father had passed away when he was just a kid, and that his grandfather was, well, not the most stable person. And then there was his strange desire to live like a hermit.

But as much as she tried to put herself in his shoes, Chloe couldn't even imagine what Ace had been through. Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to. She just knew she had to find a way to reach him somehow.

Beneath the calm surface, everything felt more intense, and she wasn't sure if she could handle it. Her mind battled with the idea that maybe Ace's grandfather was solely responsible for his behavior. It felt like an easy way out, but part of her believed it could be true.

Yet, deep down, she sensed there was more to the story. Ace seemed reluctant to share, but she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that there was something he wasn't admitting. She felt guilty for prying into his private affairs, yet she couldn't see any other option at that moment.

Was keeping this secret really worth it?

Perched on her bed, Chloe cradled her steaming cup of hot chocolate, her brow furrowed with frustration as she tugged her laptop closer. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but curiosity gnawed at her insides. What other choice did she have?

Eagerly, she flicked open her laptop, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for it to boot up. Once it finally sprang to life, she launched her web browser and clicked on Google.

Her heart raced as she chewed nervously on her lip, her fingers hovering uncertainly over the keyboard. Could she really go through with this? But she had to know.

She had no other option, did she?

She let out a frustrated sigh and tapped away at her keyboard, hoping to find some clarity in the mess. 

"Robert Wyatt Jonathan, Crestview City," she muttered to herself, her fingers dancing across the keys.

A flood of results filled her screen in an instant, overwhelming her. She scanned through them, her eyes darting back and forth, unsure of where to begin. The weight of the task ahead made her shoulders tense up, and she rubbed them absentmindedly.

Feeling a bit lost, she paused, staring at the screen for a moment before making a decision. With a determined nod, she clicked on the first link that caught her eye, an article from the Florida Times.

Her heart raced, her hands grew clammy as the article popped up on the screen, glaring brightly in front of her. It seemed like any ordinary piece from the newspaper, but there was a picture that caught her off guard, causing her to hold her breath.

On the computer screen, a man stared back at her, bearing a striking resemblance to Ace. No, it wasn't just a resemblance, he practically looked like Ace himself.

Surely, he had to be the one she had been searching for.

The man sported dark hair and piercing eyes, much like Ace's own intense gaze. There was something about him that sent shivers down her spine, making her wish she never had to encounter him. Unlike her grandfather's gentle countenance, this man had sharp, chiseled features that gave off an intimidating aura, but there was more to it than just his appearance. It didn't take long for her to realize why he seemed so utterly terrifying.

The issue lay with his eyes.

They were completely black, void of any expression or life. It felt as though he saw nothing and felt nothing in return. Chloe shuddered, feeling as though she were staring into the abyss of pure evil.

She leaned back from the screen, needing a moment to compose herself. Her breath came in rapid gasps, and she fought to regain control.

Chloe refused to let herself panic over just a mere picture. After gathering her courage, she returned to the desk, unsure if she could muster the bravery to read the newspaper article before her.

"I can't…" she whispered, fatigue evident in the slight tremor of her hand as she rubbed her eyes.

"You've got this," a voice chimed in, gentle and encouraging.

Suddenly, Chloe's heart leaped into her throat. "Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed as she caught sight of Neil leaning casually against her doorframe, his familiar figure clad in his usual attire. She tried to steady her racing pulse. "You scared me half to death!"

Neil rolled his eyes at her reaction. "Let me help you with that article," he offered, his tone laced with his usual dry humor.

"Wait, did you memorize it?" Chloe asked, her curiosity piqued.

Ignoring her question, Neil sauntered into her room with an air of nonchalance, taking a seat on her couch before continuing.

"On the night of July 1st, cops were called to their apartment complex near Victorian Brew Haven because of a domestic violence thing. Neighbors heard all sorts of drama – yelling, screaming, even gunshots. When the cops rolled up, it was like a scene from a horror flick – one of the nastiest crime scenes Crestview has seen.

Kevin Jonathan, got shot three times in the chest and had his jugular vein cut. It was brutal. The autopsy said he didn't stand a chance. And guess who the triggerman was? Kevin's old man, Robert Wyatt Jonathan. Turned out, his father had been dealing with mental issues for ages. They tried to lock him up, but he kept slipping through the cracks.

Kevin had tried to get his dad busted for stalking before, but nothing came of it. Then, they had a confrontation, and Robert lost it, ending up using a weapon on his own flesh and blood. Sickening, right?

And here's the kicker – Robert had a sketchy past. He was into some shady stuff, messing with drugs to screw with people's DNA! Total nutjob. He even had some link to his son-in-law's death, Jack Sinclair, who happened to be some big-shot scientist. But that's still up in the air.

Cops found Robert's prints all over the murder weapon, a kitchen knife. So, they hauled him off to jail on June 30th. He has his trial in December. They talked about throwing the book at him – first-degree murder and maybe life in the slammer.

Kevin got a send-off on July 2nd. Leaving behind a pregnant wife, Gina, and their 11-year-old kid, Arris."

Tears cascaded down Chloe's cheeks as she finished reading the article, her hands cradling her head. She knew what she was about to uncover wouldn't be pleasant, but the reality was far worse than she had anticipated. The revelation that Ace's grandfather had murdered his own son shook her to the core. Murder was a horrific act, and there was no way to sugarcoat it.

"Are you alright?" Neil's concerned voice broke through her turmoil.

Chloe felt the bed shift as Neil moved closer, his presence a comforting anchor in her stormy emotions. With red-rimmed eyes, she glanced up to find him sitting beside her, having abandoned the couch.

Gently, Neil raised his index finger and brushed away the tears that pooled beneath her eyes. Chloe's breath caught at his touch, her emotions raw and overwhelming.

She leaned into his comforting gesture, her voice barely above a whisper as she confessed, "He's a murderer... He killed his own son."

Neil paused, his brow furrowing in contemplation.

"A murderer isn't just someone who takes a life. It's about why they did it. Some do it to protect themselves, others for pleasure or greed. Motive changes everything. One might act out of love, the other out of coldness. These motives should lead to different reactions from society."

"So, what's your take? It wasn't self-defense. It must've been for pleasure or greed, right?" Her voice trembled with uncertainty.

"It was neither," Neil asserted.

Confusion clouded Chloe's expression as she scrunched her eyebrows. "What do you mean?" she inquired.

"It means Robert acted out of rage-"

Chloe couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her voice cut through the tension, sharp with disbelief. "You can't just take a life in anger," she insisted firmly. "You just can't."

Neil nodded slowly, his expression grave. "True. But you've got to remember, Robert crossed that line a long time ago. Once you cross it, there's no turning back. That's why they said he was mentally ill."

"Because of that insane experiment? Altering human DNA? What was he thinking, and how could anyone even attempt something like that? And it's clear as day that my dad's death was connected to Robert's madness and greed."

"It's possible," Neil said, his gaze unwavering.

"No way," Chloe shook her head, but the seriousness in Neil's eyes stopped her short. "Wait, are you serious?" she asked, her voice catching.

Neil stood up from her bed, ready to leave. But before he could take another step, Chloe reached out, grabbing his wrist.

"Don't leave, please," her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her plea heartfelt. "Please…"

"Okay," Neil relented, sinking back down onto the bed.

Neil closed his laptop with a soft click, the screen dimming. He turned his attention to Chloe, noticing the tired lines on her face. "Lie down," he said gently, his voice soothing.

Confusion flickered in Chloe's eyes, but before she could voice any questions, Neil reached for her pillow and duvet, arranging them with care.

"Rest. You need it," Neil insisted, concern evident in his tone. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, allowing herself to be enveloped by the warmth of the blankets.

As Neil prepared to leave after she fell asleep, he paused by the switch, casting a glance back at Chloe. "Good night, Chloe," he said softly, his expression kind.

"Goodnight, Neil," Chloe murmured, a small smile playing on her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over her, comforted by Neil's presence nearby.

Her mind buzzed with a million thoughts. Even though she'd never laid eyes on her father, she could feel Ace's pain when his grandpa shot him.

The newspaper said Kevin Jonathan left behind a wife and son. Surprisingly, that son turned out to be Ace, or rather, Arris Jonathan. Now she knew his real name.

It was a lot to take in. Seeing Ace again would be even more intense. She wasn't due to work at the coffee house until tomorrow. Could she just approach him and spill what she knew?

Exhausted and frustrated, she was done playing games with Ace. She knew he wouldn't give in easily, but that didn't mean she had to be okay with it.