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Back Stalker Save as PDF
Chapters (66)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. EPILOGUE
  63. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  64. MORE FROM GEMMA ROGERS
  65. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  66. ABOUT BOLDWOOD BOOKS

However, I was thinking of seeking help for the caffeine addiction I’d developed from spending so much time at Baristas. If I wasn’t at the boxing club or at Pulse I could be found browsing the internet with a latte, telling anyone who appeared interested that I was writing a book. The news delighted Susie, who said she’d suspected for a while that was what I was up to. If only she really knew.

32

WEDNESDAY 10 JANUARY 2018

I’d taken the day off work as my third appointment with Doctor Almara had been booked in for the morning, promising Jason I’d spend a few hours in the afternoon leaflet dropping the roads in the area, advertising the boxing club’s no registration fee.

I finally told Doctor Almara the details of my attack, feeling lighter as a result. She didn’t shrink away in horror, or eye me with pity. Instead she focused on all the changes I’d made to assist in my recovery. Impressed to see I was no longer restricting my movements to daylight hours and embracing the change in job.

‘Are you still having issues with temper flare-ups?’

‘Sometimes.’ Whenever I thought about Ian, I pictured beating him to a pulp, but I didn’t tell her that. She booked me in for another appointment but said, depending on that, she would be happy to sign me off. I’d made progress.

I’d been to Pulse on and off over the Christmas period. I didn’t want anyone to think I only went when Ian was there. It was different going alone, with no purpose other than to exercise. I didn’t have to watch what I did or said. I could just be myself. But it wasn’t long before he was back, and he seemed keen to see me, interrupting my weights to chat.

‘Did you have a nice Christmas?’ he asked.

‘Yes, quiet but good. You?’ I wanted to know where he’d been over Christmas. Did he have any family?

‘Lovely, thanks, nice to get away.’ I was just about to say, ‘anywhere nice?’ but he interrupted me. His fingers drummed on his thigh. ‘Are you free Friday?’ It was only two days away. A shiver trickled down my spine, but I had no reason to delay. Perhaps Friday would give me my first insight into the man behind the monster.

‘Sure.’ I chewed my lip.

‘Shall we go for a drink? I’ll meet you here at, say eight?’

I nodded, but before I could speak, Ahmed hijacked our conversation, so I returned to the chest press. I had a couple of days to decide what to wear and, more importantly, what I needed to take. Safety was my main priority, but as we would be out in public, I wasn’t overly concerned. Attacking someone who could identify him wasn’t his style, too exposed. Speculation, of course, but I believed he hid behind the balaclava.