Doctor's Orders

Stalker

Chapter 2

Melissa

Men. Just when you think one of them is actually decent, he just proves that they’re all the same.

“Mommy,” Jake says. But I barely hear over the noise as I drive through the highway at full speed. We are already late for his appointment. And his scratching only makes my anxiety worse.

The creep even tried to give me his number and lied to my face saying that it was his friend who’ll help me with my spare tire.

“Mommy,” Jake again calls.

If I ever see that guy, I’ll…

“Mommy, it’s Mr. Abs. He’s right behind us!” Jake exclaims.

I look at the rearview mirror, a Porsche convertible is just right behind us with the handsome creep smiling in the driver seat.

What the hell? How did he catch up so fast? And how did he know where I was?

“Jake, honey, grab Mr. Ken and hold tight ok?” I inform Jake. If this guy is the kind of creep that I think he is, then we are in grave danger. Who knows how many people have already lost their lives to stalkers?

“Weeee!” Jake celebrates while clutching Ken the doll.

I speed through the highway and into the next exit towards the city. But Mr. Stalker is still on my rearview mirror.

What the f**k? Is he really going to blatantly just follow me wherever I go? Well, let’s see how good you are at following this.

I quickly speed up as the traffic light in the intersection goes from yellow to red. Mr. Creep is left stuck at the traffic light.

“Awww,” Jake pouts as he looks at the rearview mirror, “I wanna talk to Mr. Abs again.”

My phone rings. The caller ID blinks, Asshole. I frustratingly accept the call.

“Melissa?” the voice speaks over the Bluetooth speakers, “Hey, can you do me a favor and watch Jake for the day. I got this thing at work, see.”

“Bill,” I reply, “Look, you promised Jake that you’ll spend time with him for the rest of the day after his doctor’s appointment. I know I’m late, but I had a flat tire. Unfortunately, this handsome creep stops by and––“

I look at the rearview mirror as I hear the loud roar of a sports car engine. To my horror, Mr. Creep’s Porsche is back, trailing behind me.

“Handsome what?” Bill clarifies.

“Can’t talk. Gotta go. Stalker following me.” I reply.

Bill asks more questions before I drop the call. I need to lose this bastard as quickly as possible. His stubbornness to follow me is now borderline psychotic.

“Buckle up, Honey,” I remind Jake.

“He’s back!” he rejoices.

I quickly turn right on the next corner, hoping to lose Mr. Creep in the more congested traffic street. “You’re going to have to wait a little while longer, okay, Jake?”

Taking the long route proves to be useful as I can no longer see the blasted Porsche that’s been stalking me all morning. I try to call Bill again, but he does not answer his phone. I give up after the third time I try to call him.

I slam on the driving wheel out of frustration, “Dammit!”

“Mommy, no cursing!” Jake scolds me.

I take a deep breath and calm down. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I’m going to make it up to you. Who wants some ice cream after seeing the doctor?”

“Me!” he gleefully responds. “I can’t believe daddy and mommy are finally gonna eat ice cream with me.”

I gather self-control to prevent myself from shedding a tear, “Honey, daddy can’t make it today because of work. But I promise you he’ll be there next time.”

My heart almost breaks as I see the excitement in his eyes die ever so slowly, “It’s all right, mommy. Dad doesn’t like playing with special kids like me. But it’s okay because I’ve got Ken with me!”

I fake a smile, “Yes, you do. And don’t forget about Mommy.”

“Yes!” he shouts, “And Mr. Abs!”

It takes another twenty minutes for us to arrive at the clinic. “Dr. William Mallor,” I whisper, “Yup, this must be it. Let’s go, Jake.” He excitedly runs inside. As I lock the car doors, I notice the card Mr. Creep gave me earlier and throw it in the nearest trash can.

“Good riddance,” I whisper in celebration.

But as I sit in the lounge room, waiting for our appointment, I begin to wonder if I really should be celebrating. If you set aside the stalking, he is probably the hottest guy I’ve ever met. Short, black, well-kept hair. A chiseled face that just screams “Model of the Year.” And gosh…that ripped, bulging body of his sweating under the morning sun was almost more than I can handle.

“Bill never even had biceps,” I involuntarily say to myself.

“Ms. McAdams?” the secretary asks as Jake rushes in the doctor’s room, “Dr. Mallory is ready to see you now.”

“Thank God, what took him so long?”

“The doctor…was handling a serious ‘operation’ last night. Thank you for your patience.”

It must be my mind playing with me, but I think the secretary is trying to say ‘operation’ as if it’s s****l innuendo. Well, whoever the doctor is, too bad he’s not as hot as the dark, ripped, handsome of a man I met earlier. I’d really appreciate a decent hot guy to date right about now, and with date, I mean him inside me, reorganizing my insides with his huge, throbbing, d**k.

As I open the door, a dark, ripped, handsome doctor waits for me on his table, smiling. The same dark ripped, handsome creep that’s been following me around town for the last hour. He may be wearing a coat now, but there’s no denying that Greek God of a face and killer smile.

“Hello…, Ms. McAdams. And––wow. It feels as if I just had a severe case of Déjà vu,” Dr. Mallory sarcastically jokes.

“Mommy! Look! It’s Dr. Abs!” Jake rejoices.