Chapter 43

Joplin Cole found the guy on the elliptical machine next to her creepy. She was thirty-five minutes into her program when she spotted him walking into the gym. At first glance he appeared normal enough, and there were likely women who’d find him attractive. Short blond hair, bronze tan, blue eyes, a gymnast body. But something about him gave her the shivers. She at first tried to be kind about it, blaming it on how anxious she’d been feeling over the last few weeks, but then he made a beeline toward the neighboring elliptical machine, and since then her internal creep meter had been buzzing off the charts. She only had another six minutes to go or she would’ve moved to another machine.

He asked her, “Do you come here often?”

She kept her stare focused straight ahead and forced out between breaths, “Not…interested.”

The machine had her working hard, the speed ratcheting up so that she was pumping her legs at a four-minute-mile pace and a steep incline level. The last thing she wanted was to deal with this creep, and she wished he’d take the hint and find a different machine, or at the very least, leave her alone. But it didn’t seem like that would be the case, and before too long she could feel his presence once again intruding on her.

“I wasn’t hitting on you,” he said, as if he were insulted. “I was only trying to be friendly.”

Joplin was nearing the home stretch and only had four minutes and twenty seconds to go. Just ignore the creep, she thought. Except it was easier said than done. She could see enough out of her peripheral vision to know he was still watching her, and there was something darkly oppressive about it, almost as if she could feel the weight of it pressing against her chest.

A minute went by in which she tried to focus only on her breathing and the burning in her leg and chest muscles. You can do it. The rest of the world doesn’t exist right now. Mr. Creepy doesn’t exist. It’s just you and the machine. Three minutes to go. You can do it—

“My name’s Dale.”

Joplin looked over to see him smiling as he held out his hand to her, actually expecting her to take it. There was something about the look in his eyes and the unnaturalness of his smile that made her feel like she was an insect he was studying under a piece of glass. She abruptly stopped her machine and jumped off, moving fast to get away from him.

“Wow, the rudeness of some people.”

She turned back to see the condescending look he gave her as if she were the one who had something wrong with her. She almost headed back to him so she could tell him off, but a cruelty shining in his eyes stopped her. The guy was more than just a creep. There was something dangerous about him. She was sure of it.

She continued on to the front desk and told the woman working there that she wanted to complain about one of the other gym members. “Mr. Creepy on elliptical number eighteen wouldn’t stop harassing me.”

“What exactly did he do?”

Joplin stood tongue-tied as she thought about what the guy had actually done. He introduced himself and told her his name. He held out his hand to her. He complained that she had been rude. Such unpardonable crimes. But she wasn’t crazy. She knew what she had recognized in his expression, and she trusted the vibe she picked up. Still, she’d sound unhinged if she made those complaints out loud.

Blushing with embarrassment, she said, “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

The woman laughed, and her voice was soft and oddly sensual as she said, “I don’t think there are many guys here who’d willingly take no from you. Not too many gals either. You’re gorgeous.”

Joplin’s blush deepened. The woman was in her early thirties, maybe six or seven years older than herself. She vaguely remembered seeing her on other occasions at the front desk but had never really paid attention to her before. Now that she was, what she thought had been a plain, unremarkable face with a slightly upturned nose was actually quite pretty, especially with the sly smile she was showing.

She held out her hand. “Joplin,” she said.

“Rosalyn.”

The woman’s smile grew bold as they shook hands, and calling it a handshake wouldn’t do it justice. There was some heavy duty flirting going on, no question about it. Joplin had never been interested in a sexual relationship with a woman before, but it wasn’t as if she’d been having such great luck with guys. She’d broken up with her last boyfriend a month ago when she caught the jerk in bed with a coworker he used to insist was a platonic friend and nothing more. God, she’d been so blind. She’d wasted two years with the jerk, and almost three years with the guy before him, and that one turned out to be an even bigger jerk. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to try something different. There was something appealing about Rosalyn. A delicateness. And it would be nice to have company while this crazy Nightmare Man stuff was going on. Maybe she’d sleep better.

She’d give it a night to think about. If she was feeling this way tomorrow morning, she’d come back to the gym, and she and Rosalyn could continue their flirting.

“It was wonderful meeting you, Rosalyn.”

“Joplin is such an interesting name,” Rosalyn said with a curious smile. “Were your parents from Missouri?”

Joplin rolled her eyes, because she had told this story too many times during her twenty-six years. “No, they were fans of Janis Joplin, and I guess they figured it would be hipper to name me Joplin than Janis.”

“It suits you. I so much enjoyed meeting you also and hope to see you again, the sooner the better.”

“Me too.”