Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2)

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Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) Page 6

by Morgan, Shane


  I flinched.

  “Oh wow, you’re so jumpy, Bristol,” Seven teased.

  Looking up, I scolded him, “Can you blame me? Someone’s been creeping me out.”

  His smile vanished. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Geez. I needed to relax. “I’m sorry. The past few days have been weird.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, bumping my arm.

  “So, uh, are you coming with us to lunch then?” Julian asked again. She had a pleading look. I couldn’t refuse.

  I picked up my purse and rose from the chair. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  We went to a bar and grill down the street from the office. We ordered hand-cut fries and buffalo chicken tenders for lunch and sat at one of the tables out on the deck. Being close to the ocean always put me at ease.

  “Have you received any more notes?” Julian asked me as I dipped a fry in the splotch of ketchup I’d squeezed out on my plate.

  “Not since Sunday,” I answered. “I hope he’s given up.” My mind drifted to what he’d written about me getting close to Mason, and how he’d be upset. The memory brought back the creepy-crawly feeling.

  I wondered just what my admirer would do if he got upset.

  Seven zapped me out of it when he said, “Maybe the camping trip will take your mind off everything.” He cut into the crispy chicken on his plate.

  I passed a confused look between them. “What trip?”

  Staring at Julian, he cocked his head in surprise. “You didn’t tell her about it?”

  She eyed me as she explained, “I thought you wouldn’t want to, with what’s been going on.”

  “But what trip?” I asked again.

  “Fourth of July weekend,” Seven answered. “We wanted to take a few friends with us to Block Island.”

  “Oh.”

  Julian clasped her hand over mine on top of the table. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll stay back with you and we could—”

  “No,” I interjected. “I’ll go. It’ll be fun.” I formed a smile. “I haven’t been to Block Island in a while. I want to go.”

  Julian confirmed, “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’m not going to let some creeper spook me out of having fun with my friends. I’m so going.”

  We chuckled.

  “Cool.” Seven nodded at me. We continued eating. A few seconds later he asked, “So do you have any idea who’s sending you the notes and such?”

  I turned my head slowly. “None. But like I said, it might be over.”

  We finished lunch and returned to the office. I went to use the restroom. There was no one inside and it gave me an eerie feeling. I’d never felt that way before, until this secret admirer nonsense.

  I slipped into a stall and did my business. While fixing my clothes, I heard the door open. I thought nothing of it and was about to step out, only to freeze at the sound of loud, masculine footsteps entering the ladies restroom.

  Waves of fear crashed into me. I remained inside the stall and bent down to try to see the feet of whoever it was. My breath hitched when I glimpsed the black oxford lace-up shoes and blue jeans. Not only that, but the person was standing just outside my stall.

  I straightened fast.

  Oh my gosh! It’s him!

  My body quivered in fear. My heartbeat increased. I felt like passing out.

  “Wh-who’s there?” My voice cracked. “What do you want?”

  No answer, just heavy breathing.

  “Look, if you don’t get the hell out of here right now…I’ll scream.”

  I heard his footsteps move away from the stall. Kneeling down to look under the door, I saw that he was heading for the exit. I waited for the bathroom door to open and close. When it did, I stepped out of the stall cautiously and checked to make sure he was gone.

  Relief flooded me seeing that no one was there. I steadied my galloping heart.

  It was him.

  But what was I doing? I’d missed the chance to see his face. I had to know.

  Dashing out of the restroom, I looked up and down the passage, uncertain of the direction in which he’d turned. I wasn’t sure what to do next. Should I call Mason? Should I pull the fire alarm and put the office on lockdown?

  There was no reason to scare everyone. My admirer had probably slipped out the emergency exit already anyway.

  Deciding to return to my desk and get my phone, I gasped as I bumped into a rock hard chest the instant I turned the corner.

  Greg Wilcox.

  He had a puzzled expression as he regarded me. “Are you all right, Bristol?”

  “No!” I blurted without thinking. “Did you see a guy just now wearing—” I stopped as a thought occurred. “It was you!”

  Greg staggered back in horror. His jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re the—” I glanced at his feet. Greg was wearing brown loafers and dark dress pants. It couldn’t have been him.

  Great. I was becoming paranoid. Had it even been my admirer in the restroom?

  Lifting my head, I noticed he still had a mystified look. He huffed and placed his hands on his hips, “Ms. Armando, what’s going on?”

  “Um, sorry,” I muttered, apologetic. “Long day.”

  He dipped his head and smirked. “I see. Well it’s about to get even longer. Do you mind staying late to help me with the list?”

  “The list?” I repeated, scowling.

  Greg blinked, amazed at how lost I was. “The list of invites for the fundraiser. My father and I want to make sure we get some fat pockets to show up.”

  “Oh, of course. Sure thing.”

  After giving me a lopsided grin and a gentle pat at the arm, he continued past me down the passage. I trekked back to my desk and sank in the chair, gazing around the office.

  Everyone was oblivious, preoccupied with their tasks. My gaze connected with Julian’s across the room. She puckered her forehead, worried.

  “Are you okay?” she mouthed.

  I feigned a smile and mouthed back, “I’m fine.”

  Reaching for my purse, I dug around for my cellphone, then changed my mind about calling Mason. What was the point? My admirer was long gone by now.

  After what seemed like an endless evening of confirming with executives and inviting local business owners to the fundraiser, Greg finally allowed me to leave for the day.

  My knees wobbled as I headed toward the parking lot at the back of the building. Silly me, I should have asked Greg or the security guard to accompany me to my car. At least I’d taken my keys out of my purse while in the office, so I wouldn’t have to waste time searching for them.

  It took forever to cross the lot. The night was dark and eerie, and the wind did nothing to ease my anxiety.

  When I reached the Kia, I still had a hard time unlocking the door. The keys rattled and I dropped them once before finally unlocking the car. Just as I was about to slip inside, a strong hand coiled around my waist and another covered my mouth.

  I nearly pissed myself.

  My screams were muffled. I squirmed and clawed at his hand.

  “Shh, babe it’s me,” the familiar raspy voice said.

  He released me when I stopped struggling. I swiveled and shoved his chest hard. “Damn it, Tyler! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “Sorry,” he said, his hands up. “Relax. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “Peachy!” I turned back to the car and hopped in.

  Tyler held the door, keeping me from shutting it. “Did the cops find the guy who broke into your apartment?”

  “For all I know it was you,” I hissed at him.

  “What? Bristol, we’ve been over this. I didn’t send you any notes and I certainly didn’t break into your apartment. Why would I do that? I have a key.”

  “I don’t know, maybe you wanted to scare the shit out of me.” I spoke in a snotty tone.

  Tyler opened his mouth wide, astounded by my accusation. He backed
away from the door. “Wow. I can’t believe you. I love you, Bristol. You know I’d never do that.”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore. All I know is someone has a fixation on me and he’s taking it too far.”

  “You should stay at my place,” he suggested. “You’ll be safer there.”

  “Excuse me?” I scoffed. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I’m not going to your place ever again. Give Jen a call instead.”

  He clenched his jaw, furious that I was being stubborn. “I haven’t spoken to her since… Look, it’s only until we figure out who it is, Bristol,” he said, his voice stern.

  “I’m perfectly fine at my apartment. We aren’t figuring out anything, so just leave me alone. I’ll deal with it myself.”

  I pulled the door shut and started the car, then backed out of the parking lot, giving Tyler no chance to utter another word. I wanted to get home, take a long shower, crawl into bed, and forget the frigging day.

  However, when I arrived at my apartment, I felt like puking. There was a blue note on the coffee table next to a large bouquet of red roses.

  “No!” I yelled.

  My alarm hadn’t gone off—I would have been notified if it had—so he must have found a way to sneak in again.

  What the hell!

  Defeated, I dropped my purse on the floor and walked like a zombie around the couch, collapsing on it. I yanked up the note; I didn’t know why, but I just had to read it.

  I was going to show you who I was today,

  but you seemed so afraid. So aggravated.

  My love, how are we going to be together if you won’t accept me?

  X

  I crushed the note in my fist and tossed it to the floor. There was a card with the bouquet. It read: Beautiful roses for my one and only. Love, X.

  Air rushed from my lungs. Anxiety swelled in me. Is this guy for real?

  Rage propelled me from the couch, and I lost it. I started swishing the roses furiously, beating them on the back of the couch and then on the kitchen counter. By the time I finished, there were petals all over the place.

  Angry wasn’t the word for this. I hated anyone making me feel as if I wasn’t in control and had no privacy.

  No freedom—the thing I’d yearned for so much when I left my mother’s house. Now it was like I was losing grasp on my own life.

  Tears flooded my vision. I tried to blink them away but my efforts were futile. They poured down my cheeks like a heavy rainfall.

  I needed someone. I didn’t want to be alone, yet I didn’t want to worry Julian and Amber or interrupt their lives with my problem. Strangely, my mind drifted to Mason.

  I searched for my cellphone inside my purse, dropping it back on the floor when I found my phone.

  Mason answered on the first ring. “This is Daniels.”

  “Hi, um…it’s…” My voice cracked.

  “Bristol?” he said, concerned. “Are you okay? You sound off.”

  “I am off,” I whimpered. “He was at the office today, and I found another note and flowers inside my apartment.”

  “Seriously?” Mason sounded frightened.

  A cold sensation engulfed me as I spoke again. “Mason, I changed my locks and installed an alarm like you suggested, and still this guy came in. I-I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’m sorry, Bristol. Listen, I’m off duty right now, but I’ll request a—”

  “Can you come?” I blurted. “Please, I don’t want to be alone. I’ll feel safer if you’re here.” I had no idea how that sounded to him, and I didn’t care.

  Without hesitating, Mason said, “Okay, I’m on my way.”

  “Thank you.” I sighed in relief.

  Not wanting him to see how I’d broken down, I quickly cleaned up the mess and tossed everything into the trash. Then I went to the bathroom to wash my tear-stained cheeks and smeared makeup. This admirer was seriously getting under my skin. I couldn’t lose it like that again. I had to stay in control.

  I had to stay strong.

  “How do you think he slipped by the security alarm?” Mason asked as he sat on the couch and smoothed out the crumpled note.

  I brought over coffee and sank down beside him. “I don’t know, can’t figure that out.”

  He read what my admirer had written. “So he wanted to reveal himself? Sounds like he’s becoming brave.”

  “Yeah,” I said in a low tone. “I should have looked at him.”

  “No.” He glanced at me. “Who knows what would have happened if you did.”

  I rubbed my thumb around the edge of my coffee mug.

  “Think, Bristol,” Mason urged. “Maybe you’ve met him before but didn’t pay him any attention—someone from the university or that café?”

  Looking at him, I said, “I can’t think of anyone who seemed suspicious.”

  Mason leaned forward and placed the note on the coffee table, then clasped his hands. “Bristol, I have to be straight with you, unless he becomes hands on, the police can’t do anything.”

  Setting the mug down on the coffee table, I tucked my fallen strands behind my ears and fought back tears. “What about a restraining order?”

  “Against who?” he scoffed. “We have no face. No name. Nothing.”

  I spun back to him, frustrated. “You know, Mason, you don’t sound very encouraging right now.”

  A razor-sharp breath expelled from his lips. “It’s just that…these cases are tough.”

  Picking up the mug again with my unsteady hands, I sipped my coffee and considered what he’d said.

  Mason went on, “All I can tell you to do is stay with a friend and set up a camera here. We’ll catch him if he sneaks in again. That’ll be good enough to put him behind bars.”

  “I’m not leaving my apartment,” I said, holding on to defiance. “But I’ll get the camera.”

  He stood to leave. I didn’t want him to. I also didn’t want to seem desperate. Oh, what the hell. I am desperate.

  “Can’t you stay?” I asked, standing up.

  Mason took me in, stirring up a fiery feeling in the pit of my stomach. The hairs on my hands shot up, and I feared that if he touched me then, I’d be electrocuted.

  He massaged the back of his neck. “I’ll call it in. The precinct will send someone over to keep an eye on the place.”

  “You’re a cop,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but this is…” he trailed as he refocused on me.

  “What?” I urged. “Conflict of interest?”

  Mason smirked. “Something like that.”

  “You said it yourself: there’s nothing the police can do right now, but I feel like you care enough to try for me.”

  After a long pause, he said, “Okay. I’ll stay for a while.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed, faking nonchalance when inside I was bungee jumping with excitement.

  Mason sat back on the couch. I absorbed his appearance once more: his thick brows, long dark lashes, chiseled jawline, and those lips. I looked past them, and a low moan escaped me as I noticed the way his chest bulged beneath his fitted shirt.

  My hands tingled as if they were eager to touch him, to feel that warm sensation again like when our fingers grazed on Sunday.

  Carrying my gaze back to his, Mason had a brow raised, intrigued. I cleared my throat and snapped out of it. “More coffee?”

  He smiled. “No, I’m good. How about Chinese instead? I’m starving.”

  “Okay.” I smiled back.

  After takeout arrived, we stayed on the couch and talked over noodles and fried dumplings.

  “So what is it you’re studying at URI?” he asked before slurping a noodle.

  I finished what was in my mouth then answered, “Event planning.”

  “That’s cool. When will you finish?”

  “This fall. I have three more classes I’ll be taking online and then I’ll be done with college. For now.”

  “I see.” He put the rest of his noodles down on the coffee
table and picked up the bottle of water I’d given him. “Then what?” he asked after taking a sip.

  “Well, I just received a full-time position at Vanderson Publishing due to a merger, so looks like I’ll be with the company for a while.”

  “Good for you.” A sincere smile curled his lips and my whole body felt as if it would melt at any moment.

  I had to stare at something else to speak again. “Yeah, it’s awesome. I like working there. The atmosphere is great.”

  When the onset of shyness faded, I peered back at Mason, only to wince, disconcerted by the intense way he was staring at me. He quickly glanced at his food and sliced into a dumpling after dipping it in sauce.

  “Um…” I mumbled, feeling a little too excited by the way he licked the sauce off his bottom lip. “Uh, did I pull you away from anything important?” I stuck my hair behind my ears, something I only did when I was with him.

  Mason turned to me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before answering me. “Not at all. I do little when I’m off duty.”

  “Oh,” I muttered. “I see. So, um, are your parents still in New Hampshire?”

  His shoulders drooped, as if he’d been struck by a sudden feeling of sadness. “Yeah.” His voice came out low.

  I wanted to ask what was wrong, but it wasn’t my place so I changed the topic instead. “Any regrets about being a cop?”

  An infectious grin resurfaced as he said, “None. I was meant to do it.”

  “Good for you.”

  We talked some more until I started to feel sleepy. I looked at the time on the TV: it was after eleven. I didn’t want Mason to leave. It was so normal with him, as if we’d been hanging out for years. Whatever this feeling was, it helped me to relax.

  Uncontrollably, I yawned a few times within minutes. Mason pushed to his feet. “I’ll take off so you can get some rest,” he said.

  “No…” I whined like a clingy girlfriend. “I mean…” I stood and got a hold of myself. “Thank you so much for staying. I really appreciate it.”

  He raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Just doing my job.”

  That stung like a direct prick to the heart. Was he only doing his job, and it meant nothing else? What did it matter anyway? Until a week before, I’d been in a relationship that I’d once believed would last.

 

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