Back The Stalker
Chapters (46)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PART ONE
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-One
  25. Chapter Twenty-Two
  26. Chapter Twenty-Three
  27. Chapter Twenty-Four
  28. Chapter Twenty-Five
  29. Chapter Twenty-Six
  30. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  31. PART TWO
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. PART THREE
  36. Chapter Thirty-One
  37. PART FOUR
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Acknowledgements
  44. Keep Reading …
  45. About the Author
  46. About the Publisher

Liam shakes his head. Neither of us speaks for a bit. ‘Goddamn it,’ Liam suddenly shouts. ‘This is ridiculous. What the fuck does he want? And what the hell are we going to do without electricity for three more days?’

I don’t reply. Silence fills the cottage, both of us no doubt thinking about why someone would write DEVIL on the window or why they would cut our electricity.

‘That’s it,’ Liam says, zipping his jacket back up. ‘I’m going out there. I’m going to find him. I want to know what this is all about.’

I stare at him aghast. ‘In the rain? Why don’t you wait until it clears?’

‘No,’ Liam says, moving to the door. ‘It’s only some rain. And who knows when it will stop. I can’t bloody believe we thought a honeymoon in Scotland was a good idea.’

‘At least have something to eat before you go,’ I urge, getting up.

Liam ignores me and opens the door. A barrage of rain slams into his face and a blast of cold wind comes with it and he hesitates. After a brief pause, he steps back into the kitchen and shuts the door. ‘Fine,’ he says, grudgingly, sinking into a chair at the table. ‘But as soon as it stops, I’m going to find him.’ He notices the empty pan and the carton of eggs sitting on the side and his shoulders slump even further. ‘What the hell are we going to eat?’

I look about, trying to think of something. We can’t have toast or tea, and raw bacon and eggs isn’t an option. ‘Bread and jam?’ I suggest.

Liam looks put out, but it’s clear there are no other options, so I hurry and place the cut bread on the table along with the butter and jam. He slaps the bread with butter and lashings of jam while I lean against the side and nibble nervously on a dry crust, glancing occasionally toward the window, half expecting to find someone looking in through the crack in the curtain.

‘Jesus Christ, this is not what we signed up for,’ Liam hisses, banging his knife down on the table and making me jump. ‘We can’t stay. We’ve got to find a way off the island.’

‘But how?’ I ask. What are we going to do, I think to myself, swim?