She knew he was there before she even turned her head to look at him. She could always feel his eyes bore their way into her from behind. She hated the mere sight of him even though she hardly knew him.

He had walked into her life six months earlier. Well, into her husband's life to be exact. Somehow they had become friends. She had no idea how they met and she really didn't care. The guy was a gorilla sized man, dark and scary to look at. In the end that's what it came down to. He scared the shit out of her. He hardly ever said a word when she was near but she could always feel him watching her. And she hated the fact that he was god damn attractive to look at as well, no matter how scary he was.

She would go out on her own most weekends when her husband wasn't home. It was the only way she could find some sort of relief in her sad existense. She didn't know when he had started showing up, just watching her from a dark corner, but one day she had suddenly noticed him sitting there, and from there on she noticed him being at the same bars as her too often for it to be a coincidence.

She never called him out on it or even let him know that she knew he was there. She would always keep her back on him, pretending not to see him, but she could feel that burning look all night long. No doubt in her mind he was sent there to watch her by her husband.

She threw back the last of her drink, put the empty glass down on the counter and headed for the door. She felt his gaze as she walked closer to the door. What came over her that night, she didn't know, but she had had it with him and suddenly she found herself standing in front of his table staring down at him. His eyes were wide as if he had never expected being caught by her.

"Why the fuck are you always following me around like this, Roman? You can go tell him I don't cheat on him so you don't have to be his little watchdog anymore," she said angrily.
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" He asked.
"It's either that or you're a crazy psycho stalker," she said before turning on her heel and walking out of the place.

She was halfway across the parking lot when she heard his voice through the darkness.

"Claire!" He bellowed after her.

Picking up her pace, almost running towards the car, trying to get away from him as fast as possible. What had she done? Why on earth had she called him out like that? As if he didn't already scare her before, she was about to piss herself in fear in that moment.

Cursing lowly at herself while trying to locate the car keys in her purse. She finally found them and pulled them out just to have them snatched from her hand immetiately. She spun around fast and came face to face with him. She instinctly tried to take a step backwards and found herself pressed up against her car.

"You're not driving," he said.
"I have to go home," she said, trying to hide the fear in her voice.
"You've been drinking so you're not driving. I'm taking you home," he said.
"The hell you aren't!" She spat.

He put his hands down on the roof of her car, trapping her between his arms, as he bowed his head down to stand eye to eye with her.

"I'm taking you home. Now get in the passenger seat," his voice was so low, almost growling, and she immetiately stopped arguing out of pure fear.

He took a step backwards, allowing her to walk around the car and get in on the other side, while he climbed into the front seat. He started the car and started driving without another word. For a while they sat in silence like that until he suddenly opened his mouth again.

"I'm not sent by him to keep an eye on you," he said.
"Then what are you doing?" She asked.
"Watching you. Not for him though," he answered.
"For who then?" She asked.

He didn't answer though. He just closed the conversation as quickly as he had started it and she didn't dare to ask again. Instead she just sat in silence while he drove her home and parked the car in the driveway. He took out the keys and handed them back to her. She quickly took them and almost jumped out of the car and ran towards the front door.

She unlocked the door and turned around to see if he had left just to find him standing right there close to her again. She let out a little scream of surprise. It was the second time in such a short amount of time this evening he had crept up on her like that without her even hearing him.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked.

She inhaled quickly. There really wasn't any point in lying when he was up front with her like that.

"Yes," she admitted.
"That's funny," he said and reached for a lock of her hair, twirling it around his fingers before looking her straight in the eyes. "You're married to an abusive prick like Kevin but you're afraid of me."

He released her hair but kept his eyes on her. She tried pushing herself further up the door but the wooden material just wouldn't budge.

"He's not abusive," she said.
A small grunt left his mouth.
"I'm sure you're good at a lot of things but lying ain't one of them," he said.

He reached up and put his hand on her cheek and she immetiately cowered in fear.

"See, you can't hide it. But don't worry," he said as his thumb gently caressed her cheek. "I would never hurt a woman like that. I'm not the one to fear."

He turned around and walked away from her without another word, leaving her standing there with her mouth open, not able to understand what had just happened. She reached behind her to grab the door handle and push the door open, almost falling backwards into her home. She hurried to close the door and lock it before he might get the idea of turning around again and following her inside. She looked through the little window in the door, watching as he turned around to send one last look her way, and a little smirk crept up on his face as he saw she was looking at him.