Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) (18 page)

I sighed. “I know. Sorry. I’m just
worried about everyone, especially after what happened this morning.” My
shoulders sagged, every muscle in my body giving in to gravity as I thought of Marley,
and the unbearable way that Mason had looked at me.

“I know, sweetie,” Amber said in a soft
voice. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Look, I’m going to call Jules and
we’ll stop by in a bit, okay?”

I replied, “That would be great. I need
you guys right now.”

“Hang in there, Bristol. I’m sure the
cops will find something soon.”

Doubt hung over me like a gray cloud.
Still, I had to try to stay positive. “I hope so.”

After getting off the phone, I went to
the fridge to look for something to eat. My appetite was only now returning and
I felt like I could eat a horse. Deciding to settle for a sandwich, I searched
for peanut butter and jelly.

My phone started ringing again while I
spread the jelly on one slice of bread. Putting down the knife, I snatched up
the phone from the counter, taking it off the charger. The caller was private.

“Hello.”

I could hear heavy breathing.

“Who the hell is this?” I asked in a
biting tone.

No one spoke.

Annoyed, I disconnected the call and
resumed making my sandwich. The phone rang again.

I looked at the screen. Private.

“Hello!” I snapped, agitated. “Look,
moron, I can hear you breathing. That is
not
sexy and now is definitely
not the time to mess with me.”

A husky laugh filled the line. “I see
you’re not enjoying the morning. That’s too bad. It’s such a bright and lovely
Saturday,” the impeccably smooth voice said. It was familiar. Instantly, I
remembered the night at the club.

So I really hadn’t imagined it.
He
had
been there. He’d probably been at the center, too.

Anxiety gnawed at my insides. I
shuddered and clenched the phone tighter at my ear. My throat felt parched. I
had to clear it to ask, “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?”

He chuckled. “You know why. My love, it took
a lot for me to make this call. I hope you don’t hang up on me.”

Enraged, I kicked the bottom of the
island. He was so audacious. I wanted to yell at the bastard and call him the
nastiest things I could think of; another part of me wanted to keep him on the
phone, get him to mess up and reveal his identity.

“You’re so quiet,” he said. “I thought
you’d have a lot of questions for me. You don’t want to talk?”

I began pacing the kitchen, asking
again, “Why me?”

“Why
you?
” he repeated in a
mocking tone. “My love, I believe the right question is, why
not
you?
Bristol, you are my rare gem. From the moment I saw you—the sea breeze blowing
your beautiful hair, so lost in thought and oblivious to the world—I became
fascinated.  

“I followed you and discovered that you
were in a relationship, so I tried to do the right thing and wait.”

He sighed in admiration. Pleasure laced
his voice as he carried on, “Imagine my joy when you finally saw what a loser
Tyler McKinley really was and left him. Then I saw how hurt you were. I had to
have you. I had to show you real love. I
want
to show you love.”

He spoke with so much passion. He truly
believed in every single piece of delusional shit that spewed from his mouth.

Like a fragile leaf, I quivered with
each step I took to the living room and collapsed on the couch. “What makes you
think I want anything from you, you sick son of a bitch? You killed Marley! He
was a harmless animal. He didn’t deserve—”

“You let another man touch you!” he
yelled, so loud and guttural. It rattled me. I heard banging in the background
before he went on. “I warned you. It’s your fault that dog had to die. You hurt
me, Bristol, so I had to teach you a lesson for getting close to that cop.
You’re lucky I didn’t do the same thing to you both.” He fell quiet for a
moment, then said in a calmer tone, “My love, I would do anything to have you.
Anything.”

It felt like a variety of insects were
crawling on my skin, his words motivating them. I gripped the cushion tightly,
wishing I was wringing his neck instead.

“Who are you?” I asked again, gritting
my teeth. “Where did you see me? What can I do to make you stop?”

“Make me
stop?
” He chortled.
“There’s no stopping my love for you, Bristol. It’s impossible. That’s why you
need to make a decision.”

Alarmed, I sat out on the edge of the
cushion. “A decision about what?”

“Return to our home,” he demanded. “You
should be with me.”

“Are you kidding me?” I shrieked. “I
could never be with someone like you. You’re a lunatic!” I tried to sound
brave. I wasn’t about to give in to him.

A loud smash filled the line, like he’d
broken a glass in anger. “Then things are going to get very ugly for you,
Bristol.”

He hung up.

I tossed the phone aside and ruffled my
hair aggressively. Settling down, I thought of calling the police to report
this. I picked up my phone and scrolled to Mason’s number, swiping my thumb
over his name a few times. Eventually, I decided not to, calling Officer Lyons
instead.

This was a start. My stalker had taken
another step. He’d called. Maybe it was the beginning of his slipups.

Sunday morning,
I found my car parked on the driveway with a note under the windshield wiper.
Dad stepped past me and yanked up the paper.

His body slackened as he read, then he
looked at me and said, “Mason had it cleaned for you.”

A sea of emotions flooded me. I clamped my
lids shut as I remembered Marley’s lifeless body, eyes enlarged in horror, fur
drenched in blood; how shattered Mason was over his death. I became riddled by
an immense amount of guilt and felt as if I was going to faint.

I opened my eyes as Dad touched my arm,
jolting me out of sadness. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

 He frowned, reading my façade.
“Okay.” Then he started to twist his mouth from side to side, unsure of what to
say.

“I’m going for a drive,” I told him.

Dad arched a brow. “A drive? Maybe you—”

“To clear my head,” I added. “Don’t
worry. I’ll stay in public places and won’t talk to strangers.” I chuckled. He
scowled even more with worry.

At last he said, “Fine. Just be safe,
Bristol.”

“I will.”

Feigning a smile, I treaded past him and
got into my car. The fresh, clean smell did nothing to subdue my edginess. I
turned the keys—they were left in the ignition—and backed away, waving at Dad
before driving down the street.

The days were getting warmer. Summer was
finally here. With all that had transpired I’d forgotten about the Fourth of
July trip to Block Island the next weekend.

Julian hadn’t mentioned it again. She
probably believed that I’d changed my mind with everything going on; I guess I
had.

I wandered along the bay, trying to wrap
my head around where my stalker had seen me. He’d said that my hair was blowing
in the breeze and I was lost in thought, so it was probably around here.  

“Gosh, why me?” I blurted in my
frustration, startling a couple and their young daughter as they passed.

Clearing his throat, the man shook his
head and gripped his daughter’s hand. They picked up the pace as if I were a
deranged person they had to get away from.

Exasperated, I heaved a long sigh and
started back to my car. I hopped in and buckled up, but all of a sudden I had
an itch to stop by the little seaside café close to my apartment.

My apartment
.
I missed it.

Leaving the park, I drove five minutes
until reaching the intersection. While I waited for the lights to change, I
contemplated which way to turn: drive back to Middletown or head to the café.

My heart overpowered my mind. When the
lights switched to green, I turned right on the road that led to the café. I
wasn’t going back to my apartment so I didn’t see a big deal with driving to
the area.

Pulling up at the place shortly after, I
noticed a few people were outside perched on the stone wall having their
coffees and donuts. When I entered, I saw that it was busy and the line was
long. Not a single table was available.

I waited for a while before it was my
turn to order. The waitress, Caitlin, remembered me.

“Hey there, it’s Bristol right? Good to
see you again.” She smiled, so sincere. “Thought we’d lost a valued customer.”

“No,” I said. “I’ve been…away.”

Her grin broadened as she asked, “Same
order?”

“Yes. Thanks for remembering.”

Caitlin shrugged. “I’m good like that.”
Her personality was like the sun: bright and cheerful. It made me relax a
little.

I stood aside and waited for my order.
By the time I’d received my coffee and chocolate glazed donut, one of the
tables had cleared. I sat down to eat.

As I was about to bite into my donut, I
glimpsed a familiar face in the window. He crossed the street and entered the
café, looking around for someone—for me.

Losing my appetite, I put the donut back
into the paper bag. Tyler spotted me when I jumped up to leave. He walked over
and stood before me.

“Hey,” he beamed. “I knew you couldn’t
stay away from this place.”

“Yeah, well, guess this is my last trip
here.”

I tried to step around him. Tyler
reached for my arm, stopping me. “I really want to talk to you.”

“Tyler, I—”

“Please,” he begged. “Just for a
moment.”

“Okay…” I plopped down, sighing.

He sat in the chair across from me and
clasped his hands on top of the table. “I wanted to apologize for the other
night,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gone to the fundraiser, and I’m sorry for
what I said about having your dad arrested.”

I shook my head. “He shouldn’t have hit you.
That was wrong of him. Still, you could have texted this to me.”

“You’d have ignored it.” He smirked.
“Besides, I wanted to speak to you in person.”

Tyler extended a hand across the table
to touch mine. I pulled away. “Sorry,” he said quickly. He stared at me
intensely for a moment.

Uneasy, I got up to leave. “Look, I’ve
already told you, I can’t go back to what we had.”

“I thought we could be friends at
least,” he said, standing. “If not your boyfriend, can’t I be your friend?” He
seemed so hopeful, longing for me.

All of a sudden, Mason’s eyes started to
flicker in my head, along with the sensual sounds of our lovemaking and the
strong connection I felt with him.

Then it hit me: I’d never felt that way
with Tyler. To my dismay, even though we’d been together for more than a year,
I cherished the short moments I’d had with Mason more than any of the time
spent with Tyler.

“I’m sorry, Tyler,” I said, feeling bad
for him. “I can’t.”

He gently placed his hands on my arms.
“Don’t shut me out, Bristol. Please. Look, how about I stop by your dad’s place
tomorrow night and apologize to him face-to-face?”

Politely, I peeled off his hands. “I
don’t think you should. My dad’s never warmed up to you, so—”

“All the more reason to show him—and
you—how mature I’ve become,” he insisted.

I wobbled my head. “Even if you do that,
it still won’t change anything between us.”

“But it’s a start. Like how you’re not
so mad at me right now.” Tyler grinned, optimistic.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up the
Styrofoam cup and the bag with my donut. “I should head back,” I told him.

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” I retorted.

“I want to,” he insisted. Slanting,
Tyler waited for me to step past him and then followed as I exited the café.
 

“So,” he went on, strolling with me to
my car parked nearby. “What’s going on with this stalker? Found out who it is
yet?”

“No,” I answered, fatigued. “Not yet.”

“Really? I’m surprised. That cop seemed
so determined to find the creep. Are you two friends or something?”

“Um,” I gazed ahead, unsure of how to
answer. Mason and I had been friends before Friday night, but now that we’d
slept together, I had no idea where our relationship stood, if it even was a
relationship.

“He’s a great guy,” I heard myself say.
“He’s been so kind and helpful.” Remembering Mason’s protective arms made me
shiver with desire.

“He really cares about me,” I continued,
looking ahead and still thinking about Mason. “He makes me feel safe.”

When I reached my car, Tyler wasn’t
beside me. I turned sideways and saw that he’d stopped walking. He was staring
at me in an odd way. Hurt. Disappointed.

“What?” I asked, baffled.

His jaw tensed, and he twitched his
mouth in anger before he spoke. “You smiled just then, talking about that cop.
You look…different. I haven’t seen you like this before.”

“Huh.” I hadn’t realized that I was
smiling. Perhaps it was because Mason’s sexy grin had been cemented in my head.
I feared he’d never want to be with me again though.

Tyler stayed quiet, observing me. I
swiveled back to my car and opened the driver’s door. Getting in, I started the
engine. “Bye,” I said, looking at Tyler.

He waved like a zombie, sad and
regretful as I pulled onto the road and drove away.

By Wednesday, the whole fundraiser
debacle between my dad and Tyler had become old news. Mr. Wilcox and Greg had
heard about my “issue” and were understanding of the situation, so I wasn’t
reproved when I returned to work on Monday.

I was on my way to lunch with Julian and
Seven when Greg Wilcox asked me to join him. Julian winked at me, and I assumed
it pertained to the opportunity she’d mentioned at the fundraiser.

Greg brought me to an upscale seafood
restaurant downtown. He spared no time getting right to the purpose of taking
me to lunch.

“As you’re well aware of, both companies
have merged, and as a result of that, my father and I have discussed with
Beverly our interest in opening an office in Los Angeles. She’s given us her
support.”

“Oh,” I muttered. “That’s great. I still
don’t understand why you—”

“I want you to come with me,” he said,
and then drank his water. After setting the glass down, he clarified, “I mean,
come work with me there.”

My mouth opened in awe. “Y-you want me
to move to Los Angeles?”

A cocky grin parted his lips. “Yes. You
did a great job with the fundraiser and all the donors you convinced to come
out. I’d love to continue working with you in LA. You’ll transition into the creative
director position there.”

“And if I stay?” I asked, my voice
childlike with worry.

Greg scoffed. “Then you’ll remain as the
assistant to Beverly’s event coordinator.”

Wow
. I had no idea
the full-time position came with an ultimatum. Still, it was Los Angeles. Far
away from my stalker, but also far away from my family, friends, and…Mason.

“Um,” I played with my fork. “Can I
think about it?”

“Excuse me?” Greg blinked excessively
and fell back in his chair as if I were mad. “I’m offering you a great position
in a wonderful city and you want to think about it?” He picked up his fork to
eat. “Think fast, Bristol. There are others far more desperate for the
position.”