Capítulo 3: Stalking The Prey

Ella POV:

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, heart racing as I saw him leaning casually against the back door, waiting like a predator stalking its prey. Jason. I should have known better than to think I could slip out unnoticed.

Before I could bolt, his hand shot out, gripping my arm in a way that felt both firm and possessive. In one swift move, he pushed me back against the cold brick wall, caging me in with his large arms on either side of my head. The sharp sound of my back hitting the wall echoed in the alley, but I barely registered the pain. My mind was screaming one thing—get away.

I thanked every lucky star I had that I was still wearing the stupid wig. If he figured out the truth—that the quiet waitress standing before him was the same "hoody girl" he'd been obsessing over at school—my life would become a living hell.

His eyes burned with intensity as they bore into mine, and before I could protest, he yanked off the cap I'd been wearing. My breath caught in my throat, but relief flooded me when my wig stayed securely in place. If it hadn't, my golden hair would've given me away in an instant. I was still safe, at least for now.

Jason's lips curled into a smirk. "You're awfully good at running, but not so great at hiding."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Let me go."

He didn't budge. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Not until you explain what your problem is with me."

"Problem?" I scoffed, trying to push past the panic rising in my chest. "I don't have a problem with you."

His eyes narrowed, his smirk fading as he studied my face. "You embarrassed me. Twice. You think that's something I'm just gonna let go?"

My pulse pounded in my ears. This was it—the moment where everything could come crashing down. I couldn't let him connect the dots.

"It was an accident," I managed to say, forcing my voice to remain steady despite my racing heart. "You got in the way. That's all."

He tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to read my mind, to see through the disguise I'd carefully crafted. I could feel the weight of his stare, the way his gaze flickered from my wig to my eyes, as if he knew something wasn't adding up but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"You know," he murmured, his voice dangerously low, "I don't like people messing with me. And you..." He paused, his eyes scanning my face one more time. "You seem to be making a habit of it."

I felt trapped, his towering frame keeping me pinned to the wall. I had no idea what his next move would be, but I had to stay calm. If I freaked out or gave him any more reasons to be suspicious, I'd be in serious trouble.

"I'm not messing with you," I said firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. "I'm just trying to do my job."

Jason's smirk returned, but there was something colder about it this time. "We'll see about that."

Without another word, he finally stepped back, releasing me from the wall. My arm tingled from where he'd grabbed it, but I didn't dare rub it. I stayed frozen, watching as he shot me one last glance before walking away, disappearing around the corner of the building.

It wasn't until I was sure he was gone that I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My hands were trembling, my mind still reeling from the confrontation. If he'd seen through my disguise... if he'd known who I really was...

I couldn't even think about the chaos that would've followed.

I needed to be more careful. Much more careful. One wrong move and everything I was hiding could come crashing down. I adjusted my wig, making sure it was secure before turning toward the door. There was no way I could afford to slip up again.

The next week, I doubled down on my precautions. Every morning, as I approached the diner, I made sure no one saw me in my "hoody girl" guise. The last thing I wanted was someone putting two and two together—seeing the waitress with the wig and the hooded girl and connecting the dots. I avoided changing back into my hoodie look after my shift, and had to endured the discomfort of the godforsaken wig until I reached the safety of my shabby apartment. One slip-up, one observant person, and the facade I'd worked so hard to maintain could crumble.

I walked carefully and deliberately throughout the week, always on high alert. Jason had somehow managed to slip from my immediate thoughts—until he decided to make my life a living hell by frequenting the diner. I stayed vigilant throughout the week, bracing myself for Jason to corner me again, but he never did. Despite this, his presence loomed large. He frequented the diner with his two friends after practice, always observing me with an intensity that felt like a constant weight on my shoulders. The way he watched me, so unyielding and relentless, made me feel like I was under a microscope. They'd come in, order their food, and then watch me with those penetrating eyes of his as if he were waiting for me to slip up.

Each visit, he would come in, survey me with those piercing eyes, and leave without a word. The lack of confrontation only fueled my paranoia. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike, keeping me on edge every minute of the day. Despite my best efforts to remain invisible, Jason's presence was a constant reminder of the danger lurking just out of sight. He'd watch me with a hawk-like intensity from his booth, only to leave with his friends after they finished their meals. It was as if he was waiting for the perfect moment to strike—or, more likely, waiting for me to make a mistake that would reveal my secret.

The way he stared made my skin crawl. Every time he walked in, my heart skipped a beat. I was always on edge, every sound, every movement in the diner making me jump. It didn't help that the constant stress and paranoia were beginning to wear me thin. I knew I couldn't afford to make a mistake, not when I was so close to achieving the life I wanted, free from my father's influence.

Jason's consistent presence made me even more paranoid. I started imagining scenarios where he'd corner me again, but he never did. His unspoken game of cat and mouse left me feeling even more vulnerable, the uncertainty of when and how he might strike gnawing at my nerves.

By the end of the week, I was practically counting down the minutes until my shift ended, eager to get away from the diner's oppressive atmosphere. I made my way home with my heart pounding, the weight of the week's anxiety lifting only once I was safely behind the locked door of my apartment.

Yet, even in the supposed safety of my shabby little home, I couldn't shake the feeling that Jason was still watching, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal the truth. I had to remain vigilant, always one step ahead. My future depended on keeping my two lives separate, and every day that Jason loomed in the background only made the stakes higher.

Every day was a battle, and the war wasn't over yet.