Prologue

"I'm being stalked."

Trevor looked up from his burger and stared at me with a scrutinizing gaze. I sighed. I couldn't believe I was about to try to explain this. As soon as I said it, he was going to call up some mental hospital on that stupid little black berry of his and have me carted off like some common nut job.

"Sure you are, Roxanne." He said sarcastically. I could have just popped him in his skeptic little face. The urge to hurt him was strong. He went back to his burger with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm serious! I think I'm being followed." I cried.

Trevor sighed heavily and looked back up at me, dropping his burger dramatically back onto its tinfoil wrapper. He stared into my face for a moment before something in his eyes hardened and his face melted into a frown.

"Oh my God, you really mean it." He said slowly.

"Of course I really mean it! There's someone watching me, Trevor." I said, staring into his eyes.

He seemed to be contemplating something for a moment. He looked as though he didn't know whether to be concerned or amused. It would be just like him to find the fact I had a stalker excessively funny. Asshole.

"How do you know?" He asked, his burger completely forgotten now.

"Well, besides the fucking creepy feeling of being watched all the time, I keep hearing something outside my window at night, the other day I'm pretty sure I saw the flash from a camera when I was in the shower, a handful of my underwear has just mysteriously disappeared, and these rather disturbing little paper roses keep showing up on my pillow just before I go to bed."

Trevor stared at me in silent shock.

"Oh! And there's a chunk of my hair missing where it looks like someone cut off a little souvenir!" My voice was rising with anger and I quickly shut up as people walking by turned to stare. Hey! You'd be susceptible to public outbursts too if you woke up one day to find some awkward piece of your hair cut off just below your ear. If I didn't hair spray it down, it would stick straight up making me look like that kid Alfalfa from that movie Little Rascals.

"Do you know who it is?" He asked after a moment.

"Ugh…"

Hmm. How exactly to go about this next bit? I figured straightforward was the best way, dancing around it would only make it worse.

"Trevor, I think I'm being stalked by Victor Harding."

Trevor's face dropped.

There it was! He looked at me like I was about to rip off my clothes and dance around the food court singing some psychotic rendition of Michael Jackson and folk music. Don't get me wrong, if I could do that and get away with it, I would, but now was definitely not the time to test that theory.

"Victor Harding is dead Roxanne." Trevor said softly, watching me carefully with worried eyes.

I groaned and dropped my head onto the tabletop.

"I know."