Page 41 of Making the Save
I turned back to Sydney. “Explain. Please. Why are you talking to your stalker and not calling the cops?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know how to explain. Sometimes he shows up down at the beach and sings my songs to me. Or leaves flowers. Or writes messages in the sand. He’s never come up on the deck before.”
“I had to!” Barry shouted. “You got married! How could you get married?”
My brother had stalkers and he never took them seriously. Called them fans, and for the most part, ignored their existence. But my brother could take care of himself with women.
Syd was a tiny woman living alone.
“I’m calling the police.” Except my phone was back in my bedroom and I wasn’t leaving her out here alone with this guy, even with the glass door between them. “Go back into your bedroom and lock the door. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”
“Wyatt, I don’t think he intends to hurt me-”
“I don’t,” Barry cried, collapsing dramatically against the glass door. “I would never hurt her, I love her.”
“You’re a stalker, Barry. There are laws against what you’re doing. I’m calling the police. Don’t fucking move,” I told him. “Syd, your room. Now.”
Instead of listening, she crossed her arms over her chest and got that little furrow in her brow like when she was upset about something.
I was starting to learn her. Her emotions were blasted on her face at high volume. Happy, shy, flustered, worried.
Right now she was more frustrated than mad.
“Wyatt, we’re not calling the police. I don’t want the publicity that comes with it.”
“You have no idea what this guy is capable of,” I said.
“I’m not really capable of much,” Barry said from the other side of the door. “That’s why Gran says I can’t hold down a job.”
I tilted my head back and prayed for patience.
“No, it’s true,” Barry insisted. “I’ve only ever been good at one thing and that’s loving Sydney Malloy.”
It was her turn to sigh. “Barry, we talked about this. It’s not love. It’s just a fan crush run wild. Now, go home before your Gran wonders where you are.”
He nodded. “She doesn’t like me to stay out past nine, but you got married. I had to come.”
“I understand, but you need to go,” Sydney said gently.
“You are providing therapy to your stalker?” I asked.
She gave me a look likeof course, what else would I do?
But it worked, Barry walked away, looking over his shoulder at Sydney as he went like a lost puppy. “I’m a seriously jealous dude, Barry,” I said. “And a professional hockey player who hits people for a living. You come near my wife again and I promise to hurt you. Do you want that?”
“No,” he said, clearly dejected now. Then with one last defiant look back, he said. “You’re mean.”
“Yep. Remember that!”
Syd and I watched him walk down the beach until he was absorbed by the night.
“Are you?” she asked softly.
I wanted to hit something. Preferably Barry. “Am I what?”
“A seriously jealous dude.”
I frowned. “No.”