MY STALKER IS MY SECRET GUARDIAN

CHAPTER 2

AURORA CROSS

The screen of my laptop glows alone in the darkness of the night.

The only light, besides the flashlight hanging from a makeshift wire on the ceiling, comes from a portable lamp plugged into the only outlet that still works.

I tried to keep myself busy most of the day.

The power hasn’t fully returned, and the building is submerged in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the frantic sound of keys under my fingers.

I scroll through the same page for the thousandth time.

"Fire destroys rural home. Two confirmed dead."

The words feel cold, distant. Impersonal.

My parents died that night. Burned alive. And I... survived. No one ever knew how.

I close my eyes and swallow the pain that still pulses, even after all these years.

No article mentions the most important part: that someone saved me. A man. A stranger. He dragged me from the burning house and left me unconscious at the hospital.

Since then, I’ve received notes. Flowers. Letters with careful handwriting, always saying the same thing: “You’re safe.” “I’m nearby.” “Trust me.”

The police say it’s all in my head. Childhood trauma. But I know it’s real.

I sigh and close the laptop. I always end up in the same place: full of doubts and with no answers.

I get up and walk to the makeshift studio in the corner of the apartment.

The smell of paint and varnish calms me instantly.

I started painting a few years after my family died. It became a refuge — and now it pays the bills.

Shadow follows me in silence and lies down in his usual corner.

I smile at him while grabbing a clean brush.

“Just another normal night, huh, buddy?”

He stares at me like he knows my life is anything but normal.

I begin to paint.

Dense colors. Dark tones. Deep reds, dark grays, black. Seeing these works online, I feel like I’m slowly letting the past go.

But peace doesn’t last.

A violent noise against the door makes me drop the brush.

Shadow jumps up, barking loudly, fur bristling.

My heart races.

“Who’s there?!” I shout, my voice trembling.

No answer. Just the sound of something… dragging?

I run to the kitchen, grab a knife and take my pepper spray from the keychain. Shadow keeps growling, pacing in circles.

With the flashlight in one hand and the knife in the other, I approach the door, my heart about to leap from my chest.

I open it.

“I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY AND A KILLER DOG!”

The flashlight beam reveals a man kneeling on the hallway floor, picking up something he dropped.

He stands slowly, hands raised, like someone dealing with a crazy woman.

“I… didn’t do anything,” he says, voice calm and deep. “Just dropped my bags. I’m getting home.”

I blink a few times, breathless.

He points to the door next to mine.

“That’s my apartment. I’m your neighbor.”

I look more closely. Door 304.

The one I swore was empty for months.

“Oh my God…” I murmur, dying of embarrassment. “I… thought you were a murderer.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Did you call me the killer dog, or were you talking about him?”

I look at Shadow, now sniffing the man’s feet like he’s a childhood friend.

I exhale.

“I… it was the moment. I panicked. Still no power, weird night… I’m sorry. Really.”

He smiles. And wow. His face in the flashlight’s glow reveals strong features, a bit of stubble, dark eyes that seem to know things I don’t.

He finishes picking up the bags before stepping closer to me.

“It’s okay. Happens. I’m Damon.”

He holds out his hand.

I hesitate for a second, then shake it. His fingers are firm and warm.

“I’m… Lexie,” I say, using my new name.

“Nice to meet you, Lexie.”

He looks at the knife in my hand.

“Can I ask why you’re armed with a knife, pepper spray, and a killer dog?”

I laugh nervously, embarrassed.

“It’s a long story. Basically: no power, I’m alone, I heard a noise. I panicked.”

“Got it.” He turns the key in his door. “Things like that happen around here. I already talked to the building manager. Should be back to normal tomorrow.”

“Have you lived here long?”

“A good few years. I like the silence. No one usually bothers me…”

He looks at me, teasing.

And that’s when Shadow does the most humiliating thing — runs straight into his apartment, wagging his tail, licking the guy’s leg with joy.

“Shadow!” I yell. “He’s never like this with anyone! He usually… attacks!”

Damon kneels, pets the dog’s head like they’ve been friends forever.

“And what’s his name?”

“Shadow.”

“Perfect fit.”

He stands and leans against the door.

“Now that we’re officially introduced… if you ever need anything, you can knock on my door. But please, no knife next time.”

I laugh, hiding the knife quickly, feeling my face turn red.

“Deal.”

“Goodnight, Lexie.”

“Goodnight… Damon.”

I return to my apartment with Shadow at my side, my heart now pounding for completely different reasons.

God. He’s really handsome.

And now I’m officially… humiliated.

I like feeling the wind against my sweaty face as I run through the nearly empty park, with Shadow trotting excitedly beside me.

My headphones muffle the sound of birds and the slowly waking city.

The beat of the music pulses in sync with my stride, and for a moment, I can forget everything.

Forget the sleepless nights, the mysterious notes, and even the awkward run-in with my hot neighbor last night.

Almost.

I’m in the zone, focused, when I feel Shadow tense. He stops running and lets out a low growl. I take out one earbud and look at him.

"What is it, boy?"

He stares at something behind me, and when I slowly turn my head, my blood runs cold.

A man in a black jacket and dark cap is walking just a few meters away, heading in the same direction. Slow. Deliberate.

His eyes are hidden under the brim of the cap, but his focus is clear: me.

My heart starts racing in a way that has nothing to do with exercise.

"Come on, Shadow," I say, tugging the leash and picking up my pace. I turn down another park path, trying to shake him off.

Maybe it's just paranoia... but what if it's not?

I glance discreetly over my shoulder.

He’s still there.

“No... no...” I mutter.

Shadow growls again, trying to turn and face the man, but I hold him back tightly.

“Not now, boy. Not yet.”

With adrenaline spiking, I make a stupid decision: I turn into an alley, hoping to come out the other side.

But there is no other side.

It’s a dead end.

I stop. My chest rises and falls, breathless. Shadow is on full alert, teeth bared. When I turn around, the man is already there, just a few meters away. And then he starts walking toward me.

"Stay away from me!" I shout.

He doesn’t answer.

I drop the leash.

"Go, Shadow!"

Shadow launches like a bullet, leaping onto the man, who falls to the ground with a grunt.

But before I can run back, strong arms grab me from behind.

I feel the cold blade against my skin.

"Keep quiet, girl," a rough voice whispers in my ear.

I scream. I struggle.

I’m thrown to the ground. My elbows scrape the asphalt, and the knife brushes dangerously close to my ribs. I try to kick him, but he’s strong. Much stronger.

Shadow barks, but he's too busy with the other man.

“Get off me, mutt!” the first man yells, trying to shake the dog off.

Then I hear a shout from afar.

“Stop! Get off her!” I scream, fighting back.

"Lexie!"

I turn my head and see Damon inside a car, shouting my name. He jumps out and runs toward me.

“Lexie, get out of there!”

I kick the attacker hard in the shin.

He slaps me across the face. I taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

And then, Damon is there.

He pulls the man off me with terrifying strength, like he weighs nothing.

They roll on the ground, and I see Damon fight. Not like just anyone. He moves with precision. Skill. Like someone who’s done this many times.

The man tries to stab him, but Damon grabs his arm, twists it, and slams him into the ground. One punch. Another. And another. Blood splatters on the ground.

I stop breathing, and for a moment, I think I saw Damon’s pupils change color—but when he looks at me, they’re dark again.

How can he be this strong?

The second man, the one Shadow was attacking, runs away. Shadow chases him for a few meters, but returns when he sees Damon is with me.

My eyes are wide. I’m trembling. Pressed against the dirty wall, I try to make sense of what I just saw.

Damon comes over, kneels beside me.

“Are you okay? Lexie, look at me. You're safe.”

I nod, gasping for air.

“Just... my mouth. It’s bleeding.”

He touches my face gently.

“You’ve got a cut. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

He helps me up, and I glance at the unconscious man on the ground.

“You... fought like a... soldier,” I whisper, still trying to process it.

Damon doesn’t reply.

He just leads me back to his car, parked nearby. We get in, and I’m still in shock when we arrive at the building.

“Let’s go to my apartment. I’ll take care of it,” he says.

His place is a complete contrast to the chaos outside.

Clean, quiet, organized. It even smells like coffee and lavender. Shadow comes in, sniffing everything, but stops when he sees... a cat?

“You have a cat?” I ask, surprised.

“Yes. His name is Nero. But he’s the boss here, so be careful.”

The cat stretches on the sofa with total indifference, like everything is under control.

Damon returns with a first-aid kit. He cleans the cut on my mouth with care. His touch is gentle, yet firm. Professional.

“You fought... really well,” I comment. “Where did you learn that?”

“Army,” he replies, without looking up. “I was in the special forces.”

“Why did you leave?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just gestures toward a photograph on the shelf.

I turn to look.

It’s him, kissing a beautiful blonde woman in a sunny field.

“Oh...” I murmur, smiling, trying to seem casual. “I get it. I should probably go before your wife shows up and...”

“She died three years ago.”

I freeze.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

He’s close. Too close. I can smell his cologne. Warm, woody, intense. My heart races.

“Did you know those men?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, still in shock. “Never seen them before.”

“You should go to the police.”

“Yes, I know,” I nod, but my head is spinning.

I look at the cat and run a hand over his head.

“Shadow likes him,” I murmur, trying to laugh.

Damon chuckles back.

“Nero is irresistible.”

We leave the apartment together, and in the hallway, I see something that makes my skin crawl.

There’s another envelope on my apartment door.

Again.

My stomach tightens.

“What’s that?” he asks, curious.

“Oh, nothing important,” I lie with a nervous smile. “Thanks... for everything.”

He nods, still watching me. Then he goes inside, and I lock my door behind me, hands trembling.

I open the envelope.

“I saw. I saw what they did to you today. I saw them touching you. And I swear I’ll kill each one if they do it again. You’re mine. You always were.”

The paper falls from my hand.

My heart races.

Jesus.

I think of Damon. The way he showed up. The way he fought. But he was with me. He couldn’t have written this.

Or could he?

What if the men were connected to all of this?

What if... I was never safe?