Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2)

by Morgan, Shane

  I bolted out the door. Mason followed behind. We took the elevator down to the parking garage.

  Knots formed in my stomach when I saw drops of blood leading to where I’d parked my car.

  “No…” Mason darted past me to the Kia. The driver’s door was opened. He chanced one look inside. Limply, he backed away and crumbled to his knees, hurling over in pain.

  I covered my mouth with both hands as I edged closer. Stopping at the hood, I peered through the windshield. “Oh… no…” I tried not to gag.

  The sight was deplorable. A lifeless Marley lay on the passenger seat, eyes wide open, blood encircling the area of his stomach where he’d been stabbed.

  “God!” A loud cry escaped me. Tears started to stream down my cheeks nonstop.

  I turned from the car and glanced at Mason, still on his knees crying. Stepping closer to him, I extended a shaky hand to touch his shoulder.

  “Mason…” I murmured. His body tensed at my voice. He didn’t look at me, just eased my hand away.

  This was my fault.

  Mason didn’t say a word to me. When the cops showed up and questioned us about the night before, he answered with a straight face, never looking my way.

  “So you didn’t hear a thing?” Officer Lyons asked. I remembered him from the night at my apartment when Mason’s car was trashed. He looked like he was in his early forties. There were lines at the corners of his eyes and dark circles beneath them.

  I shook my head while answering, “No.”

  “There’s foam on his…mouth,” Mason choked out. “Was he poisoned too?”

  Lyons drifted across to my car, where a guy wearing blue gloves and a black jacket with “Department of Animal Control” on the back was taking out Marley’s body. He placed him inside a large black plastic bag.

  “We’ll know when they take a look at him,” Lyons replied as he turned back to us. In a softer tone, he said to Mason, “I’m sorry, son. I know how much he meant to you.”

  Mason nodded and watched as the animal control guy carried Marley to a white van, putting the plastic bag in the back.

  “This never should have happened,” he grunted. “I shouldn’t have gotten caught up in this again.”

  My body weakened at his words of regret. It felt as if a sledgehammer had been driven into my chest. The pain was indescribable.

  “Um, Officer Lyons, I don’t think I can drive my car after...” I stopped to catch my breath. “Do you mind driving me home please? I’m worried about my dad and my phone’s dead.”

  He looked at Mason, perhaps to see if he’d mind. Mason didn’t object, so Lyons nudged me toward his unit car.

  “Sorry about Marley,” I said again to Mason before leaving. Officer Lyons muttered something to him and then started to walk behind me.

  I got in the passenger side and stared straight ahead as Lyons hopped in around the steering wheel. He started the car, waving at Mason as he drove out of the underground parking garage. I glanced down at my lap, fearful of looking into his hardened eyes. I knew in my heart that he blamed me for what had happened to Marley, and that he probably thought the night before had been a mistake.

  I’d be lucky if he ever spoke to me again.

  The drive to Middletown was quiet until we arrived at my dad’s condo. Just before I stepped out of the car, Officer Lyons asked, “You have no idea who this guy is?”

  Looking at him, I replied, “No. I wish I did. Then I could put a stop to all this.”

  “Humph. Do you want me to ask the station to send a patrol car over?”

  “No, it’s okay. My dad’s probably home and I’ll ask my friends to stop by if they can.”

  “Okay.” He offered me a sympathetic smile and handed me his card. “Let us know if you think of anything.”

  Accepting the card, I nodded and slipped out of the car. Lyons drove off, and I hiked up the steps and entered the condo. Dead silence greeted me.

  “Dad!” I called out, lingering by the door.

  I didn’t see his car in the driveway, but it could have been parked in the garage.

  Locking the door, I walked over to the kitchen and slid my phone out of my jeans pocket to plug it in to charge. While waiting for it to turn on, I noticed a note on the island. Anxiously, I moved closer and picked it up. My trembling ceased when I saw it was from Dad.

  Sorry again about last night, sweetheart.

  Your phone’s off and I wanted to let you know I’m working overtime today.

  Don’t stay home alone.

  -Dad

  Soon after reading the note, my phone started to ring. Amber’s name and cheerful image filled the screen. “Hey,” I answered, my tone flat.

  “Hey there. Didn’t you have fun last night?” she teased. “Tried calling but your phone was off, which is understandable since you were…” She stopped to giggle, and then added, “Tied up. Your dad told me where you went. Did you use handcuffs like I suggested?”

  I slammed my eyes shut. My heart began to palpitate as the horror rushed back.

  “Uh, hello? Bristol, you there?” Amber’s jovial tone switched to worry.

  The waterworks started again. I couldn’t hold back, tears trickled down my cheeks. “His dog…Marley…he was killed,” I sobbed. “It’s all my fault, Amber.”

  “Oh no. What happened?”

  My lips trembled as I told her, “We found Marley in my car. There was a knife in him. Mason was so broken up. He’s never going to speak to me again. He’ll never forgive me.”

  Amber tried to console me. “No, don’t say that, sweetie. It’s not your fault. This guy is a lunatic and you can’t blame yourself for his sick fascination with you.”

  I took a moment to wipe my eyes with my other hand and settled my mind a bit. Then something came to me. “Where’d you go last night?” I asked. “You totally disappeared from the fundraiser.”

  “Oh, yeah,” her voice dipped, like she’d been caught. “Sorry about that. Roman and I really hit it off. We went for a walk and spent the whole night talking and getting to know each other.”

  Perplexed, I crumpled my forehead. “Wait, Roman?”

  A giggle escaped her before she explained, “The remarkably hot guy we saw at the door.”

  The tall, composed man with dark hair and the intriguing gaze raced back to me. “Who is he?” I asked. “Where’s he from?”

  “His name is Roman Orsini, Mom.” She chuckled. “He’s thirty-two and he works at a shipping company here in Newport. He’s really smart, super sweet, and very romantic. He loves classical music and literature.”

  Classical music. Why did that stand out to me?

  I scraped a hand through my hair. “That’s all?”

  “Well,” Amber scoffed. “We’re still getting to know each other, Bristol. Besides, I like a little mystery. It won’t be fun if we spill everything about ourselves on one occasion.”

  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.”r />
  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.