Breaking Bedrock (Book Two) (10 page)

The situation with Addison was exactly the reason he never got
involved with women past a few times in the sack. He hated wanting, or more
accurately
needing
, something
so
much. He hated how vulnerable
she made him feel. Men like him couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. It was
certain death to their persona, which was exactly why he had started seeing
Sondra in the first place. He needed a strong presence in his life where he
could let down his guard and just take it but still always come out on top. He
could take the pain and still come out alive. The risk was measurable. He could
survive it. What he couldn’t survive was losing Addison. But one thing he knew
for sure was that he wasn’t about to let her mind fuck him into using intimacy
as a way to get him to comply with her every whim. It was time to give her a
taste of her own medicine. William was about to teach her a lesson in her own
game.

For as long as house arrest has been around, people have
been circumventing the system. Scott Hammons wasn’t exactly on house arrest per
se; although, sometimes it certainly felt that way. He was being tracked via
his ankle monitor to ensure he didn’t disobey the restraining order that little
bitch had put in place.

It had been easy for someone as brilliant as he was to get around
under the radar. Even if he weren’t as smart as he was, there were fucking
devices you could find to intercept the GPS tracking device tethered to his
ankle simply by typing it into Google for goodness’ sake. People were so
stupid! His excellent tracking skills—he had been a boy scout after all—had
gotten him closer and closer to the little whore. He was smart about it too. He
was an outlier. He switched out vehicles and he wore disguises. Mostly, he made
sure to blend in. That was the real trick. The joke of a security team Hartman
had surrounding her hadn’t seen him, but that goddamned kid of hers had somehow
managed to foil it all. Now, thanks to the little bastard, his attorneys were
breathing down his neck, and the police had questioned him on his whereabouts.
But he was no dummy. He knew they couldn’t put anything on him. Scott Hammons
was a master at all things. He would show them soon enough.

For starters, he’d understood the art of deflection. He had left
the house that day to see his psychotherapist. The damned attorneys insisted on
him seeing this idiot, said they’d needed his testimony in court that Scott was
of sound mind and body. Bloody fucking attorneys! Of course he was in his right
mind. He was a goddamned Rhodes Scholar, and no one, especially not
bloodsuckers like William Hartman or trashy whores like Addison Greyer, could
take that away from him.

William Hartman had humiliated him in front of everyone: the
public and even his own family. He’d befriended Scott under the guise of
helping him, only to steal his business out from under him. He’d made a fool
out of him. So, yeah, maybe this idiot therapist couldn’t understand why he was
so angry. Scott knew he had every right. It was his duty to get revenge. Of
course, he wouldn’t be telling the dummy therapist or idiot attorneys or even
that dingbat Penny Greyer any of this; it was his little secret.

Oh, and one other thing he wouldn’t be sharing . . . The voices
were back. Well, his wife used to call them the voices, but Scott Hammons had
the kind of brilliance to know that it was really God and his angels instructing
him to do their will.

Furthermore, he hoped all of this was making sense in the mind of
the readers, those who would be lucky enough to read his journals. Admittedly,
his thoughts had been a bit jumbled recently. He was so busy plotting and
planning that there was little time for anything else, even sleep. Also, he
couldn’t take the meds the doc had prescribed anymore because, with all of this
electronic medical record bullshit, it was too easy for them to see that he was
on them again. And he really didn’t need the meds anyways. He just took them to
appease the doctors and to win his family back. His angels always informed him
in all the right ways, and those meds were poison. Plus, he wasn’t crazy
anyhow.

If he were crazy, he wouldn’t have the sense to see the visions.
Only the chosen ones had those powers. His latest vision had thrown him off a
bit though because he had been plotting and planning how to get back at all of
the wrongdoers, starting with Hartman and his whore. Scott stepped back,
admiring his handiwork, which was beautifully displayed before him. He had
collected dozens upon dozens of photographs of his intended targets, and each
day, he paid careful attention to how they were all arranged on the wall. He
liked to arrange and rearrange them because God had informed him that this was
his riddle to solve.

Of course, he’d taken all of the pictures while he was waiting
and watching, save for a few newspaper clippings about the “incident” and the
upcoming trial. He also had everything meticulously written down in his
journal. His grand plan
had
been to poison that bastard and his filthy
whore, using those same meds the docs tried to get him to take. He had enough
stocked up, enough to certainly do the trick, but then God and his angels
played a trick on him and sent him a new vision. They always did like to keep
him on his toes. It helped his genius. Anyway, this latest vision was crystal
clear. He had to find red flannel blanket. He didn’t have one of those, but
according to the vision, it had to be that way. Then he had to find a hill in
the woods. At the bottom of the hill in the woods, that’s where he would look
down and see Addison’s body lumped up in the blanket with only her perfect
bloody face showing. She’d have a slight smile on her face, which you could
still see despite the mess that was now her face, because even in death she would
understand that Scott was one of the chosen ones, an angel like the others, and
that he was only carrying out God’s will.

Nine

Dear William,

Have you ever met someone out of the blue one day
and suddenly your whole body, every vibrating cell of your being knows that
you’re supposed to fall in love with the person standing before you?

Your brain tells you differently, so instead of
falling into it, you try and ignore your heart’s longing, that quiet nagging,
the urging that’s telling you to go for it. Instead, you listen to the loud wise
voice you know to be right in your head. At first, it whispers subtly, “Don’t
fall in love with this person. He can’t love you the way you need to be loved.
Neither of you are in a place where any of this makes sense.” Then it becomes
louder and louder, and all at once—as if trying to drown out the beat of your
ever-racing heart as you stare into the eyes of your lover— it screams at you, “Do
not fall in love with this person; it will ruin you.” But the trouble is the
screams can’t or won’t or simply don’t drown out what the heart knows to be
true. You’ve already fallen, and there’s just no turning back.

Looking back, you realize it happened the second
your eyes met his. The truth of the matter is what’s done is done. Now, all
there is left to do is to hang on and enjoy the ride, even if you know it’ll
lead to your inevitable ruin. “Hang on,” your heart says. And so you will.
Because deep down, you know there’s simply no other choice to be made.

I love you, William. This is me telling you that, in
my own way, in the only way I really know how.

I’m sorry about yesterday. But there are boundaries
we each have set in place for various reasons, and we both need to learn what
those boundaries are. Here’s hoping there’s a better and, more importantly,
more fun way to work out the kinks. ;)

Love,

Addison

Addie settled back into her chair and read what she’d written and
then reread it over again. There was so much she wanted to say; she just hoped
the letter would convey all of it. She sealed the envelope, dialed the courier
with instructions for pickup and delivery, and rushed out to her Monday morning
meeting with Jess, who she hoped would make it all better.

Jessica was nervous, not knowing what to expect. She’d
only received a few hurried texts from Addison over the weekend, and quite
frankly, she was worried about her friend. Sipping her coffee, she took in the
hustle and bustle of the coffee shop. There were so many people, so many
stories. She took out her pen and notepad and jotted a few things down just as
Addie plopped herself in her chair. Jess looked up, confused. “No coffee
today?”

Addie looked tired. “I already had some. If I have any more, I’m
pretty sure I’ll be able to fly my ass out of here.”

Jessica smiled and stuffed her pen and notepad back in her bag.
“So how’d everything go with the move?”

“Oh, you know it’s all right. The new place is great, and we’re
still getting settled, but the boys seem okay. I’m having one of those play
therapists come over this afternoon and spend some time getting to know them.
She came highly recommended, and I don’t know . . . Maybe it’s all a little unnecessary,
but I just want to make sure they’re really okay, that they’re adjusting. It’s all
just so much. I know that. And I feel terrible about everything.”

Jessica squeezed Addie’s arm. “Are you all right, sweetie? I’m
really worried about you. After I got your text about the crazy-guy incident,
I’ve been so worried.”

Addie stared out the window for a while without speaking. “I feel
like I can’t talk to anyone about this Jessica, as though somehow if I say it
out loud it’ll all be true.”

“What will be true, Addison?”

“He’s watching me. I know that. I just feel it if that makes
sense. Part of me thinks he’s just trying to scare me, to intimidate me before
the trial. But the other part of me worries that maybe he’s up to more than
that.”

“Listen to me, Addison. You need to go to the police. This is
serious. The guy has called you, and now you think he’s following you. You just
don’t mess around in a situation like this, not after, well, especially not
after what happened before.”

Addie raised her voice. “I have.” She looked around and then
calmed herself a little before continuing. “I have gone to the police, Jess.
All they do is take my statement and tell me they’ll look into it. I don’t know
what else to do.”

“What do the security people say? Do you have any idea why they
wouldn’t have seen him if Connor did?”

Addie sighed and threw up her hands. “That’s the thing. If he
were really there, they
should’ve
seen him. So who knows? Maybe he’s not
really following me. I don’t even know what to think anymore.”

“And Patrick? How’d he take it when he got home?”

“The way you’d probably imagine. He’s pissed. He called,
threatening me with all kinds of legal action. He’s picking the boys up from
school tomorrow, and then we’re meeting to talk after I get off work.”

“That doesn’t sound
too
bad.” Jess laughed a little and
then straightened. “So tell me about the other night with lover boy.”

Addie bit her lip and blushed. “What’s there to tell?”

“Oh come on! This is the first time I’ve seen you perk up in
weeks.”

“It was . . . It was, well, how it always it is—indescribable.”
Addie smirked.

Jess frowned and then pulled out her phone.

Addie studied her face for a second and then spoke slowly. “I
know, Jess. I know what I’m doing is wrong. And I know that you don’t agree with
it. I could lie and say I can’t help myself, but we both know that isn’t true.
I’m sorry I let you down. I just don’t understand why you’d ask if you’re just
going to make me feel worse about myself. I already feel like shit. Can’t you
see that?”

Jess inhaled sharply. “Oh, honey, I’m not trying to make you feel
bad. Really, I’m not. I just want to know if you’ve fully thought through what
it is you’re doing. I love you dearly, and I just want to make sure you’re
ready for what it is you’re thrusting yourself into. I mean . . . You know men
like William Hartman. They’re not exactly pillars of success when it comes to
relationships and settling down.”