Author's Note: Trying to think of a title for this, I looked up the definition of 'watching' and this is part of what I found: "To give head to; to observe the actions or motions of; for any purpose; to keep in view, not to lose from sight or observation; as, to watch the progress of a bill in the legislature. So, yeah, the title is a little lame, but whatever! It serves its purpose. This is the first sequel to a story I've ever done (Well, not true, but the first sequel that I don't plan on discontinuing). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as you did the first! Please review!
Note 2: I know I said I wasn't going to post this until it was finished but, whatever. You'll just have to wait a little between updates. :) I hope you enjoy, and I know the prologue isn't that exciting, but it gets better.

Never Lose Sight

Prologue

Lita Benoit pushed the metal cart in front of her, the wobbly wheels clanking against the pavement as she did so. "No! You're going to win!" she shouted to the young girl of six running in front of her. The girl turned her head backward, a stream of long brown hair covering her precious face before she turned around again, reaching their mini-van with a triumphant smack to the rear bumper. Slowing her pace to a jog as she reached the van, Lita smiled and ruffled the girl's hair, earning a playful disgusted look. "So, Chels, are you ever going to let Mommy win?" she asked.

"No!" the girl, Chelsea, responded, sticking out her tongue as her mother rolled her eyes and began loading the groceries into the van.

"Get in the car, sweetie," Lita ordered her, laughing. She shaded her eyes from the bright sun, silently wishing that she hadn't worn jeans today. Shaking her head, she turned back to her task, only to be interrupted as she dumped the last bags into the trunk and slammed it shut.

"Excuse me, missus?" a tentative voice asked. Lita turned, cocking her head in a welcoming way as she studied the speaker. He was probably around his mid-40's, his hair balding, his collared shirt loosely clinging a large belly, but his smile was bright and warm.

"Yes?" she answered politely, feeling at ease with the stranger.

"I was wondering, ma'am, are you Lita Benoit?" Lita simply nodded her head, and he timidly held out a pen and a piece of paper. "Do you think you could maybe sign this?"

Lita smiled. "Of course," she replied warmly, and set the paper against the van and scribbled her name on it with a friendly, generic message. "Though, I warn you, it's not worth much anymore," she told him as she handed the paper to him.

He chuckled at her words. "You'd be surprised… There's a whole lotta us just waiting for you to come back and kick some tail… Think it'll be anytime soon?" he asked, more jokingly than curiously.

"Nah, I don't think so," Lita laughed, "For now, I'm focusing on my personal life," she added, tilting her head toward the van where her daughter sat.

"Ah, yes. Your little girl, she looks just like you, beautiful," he told her, smiling. He tilted his baseball cap toward her and stepped back, "I'll let you go now. Thank you, missus," with one last smile, he turned away, heading toward his own automobile.

Lita felt the muscles in her mouth protest as the smile on her face didn't deter. She took out the van keys from her pocket as she opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, instinctively looking back to make sure her daughter was back there. Chelsea was in the seat opposite of her behind the passenger seat, strapped in and looking at her. 'She's such a good kid,' Lita thought with a proud smile as she shifted gears and backed out of the parking space.

"Momma… How does everyone know you?" Chelsea asked as Lita pulled into the street.

"Well sweetie, Mommy used to work with Daddy," Lita explained patiently.

"Why not anymore?" was the second, quick question out of the little girl's mouth.

"Because I'd rather spend my days with you than at work," she replied, wrinkling her nose, knowing that Chelsea was watching her. Chelsea giggled.

"Is Daddy coming back tonight?" she asked excitedly.

"Yup, he'll be there by the time we get back," Lita responded, smiling when Chelsea let out an eager squeal. Lita turned her eyes from the rearview mirror back to the road as Chelsea fell into a silence, wondering what special present her dad would bring her back this time. Unbidden, the stranger's words rolled around Lita's head. "There's a whole lotta us just waiting for you to come back and kick some tail… Think it'll be anytime soon?" The words sounded foreign to her. A quick glance to the backseat deterred her mind from its current path. Chelsea was more important than anything at this point, and Lita knew that it wouldn't be best for her to grow up on the road. 'Life is perfect…' Lita thought happily, 'So why should I screw it up by doing something different? I'm not going to go back to work; it would be about the worst thing right now for Chels.'

Again she pushed the thoughts to the side and focused on driving, but the man's words wouldn't leave her be. No matter how many times she protested them, saying that she would never return to the ring, her mind kept asking why, why, why… And the worst part was that she knew the answer.

The moment she went on national television, it would start all over again.

She knew that being taught on the road wouldn't affect Chelsea as much as she kept telling herself that it would. The real fear, hidden deep inside her, was the fear that her stalker would emerge once more. 'Ugh, cram it,' she ordered herself sternly. 'Dean's dead and Matt is in prison. There's no one left to mess things up.' Even though truth rang in the statement, Lita frowned.

Because there were three letters in her desk drawer that said otherwise.

Lita steeled herself and tried to focus, writing off the letters as copycats and whatnot. It couldn't be true; it couldn't be happening again. She squeezed her eyes closed. No, it couldn't be—it wasn't right...

But if it was… If it was true…

She had a lot more at stake this time.