Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) (19 page)

BOOK: Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2)
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Upset by his attitude and feeling queasy
all of a sudden, I stood and excused myself to go to the restroom.

Turning on the tap, I leaned over the
sink to dab water on my forehead and cheeks.
Should I accept Greg’s offer?
Could I leave everything? Could I leave Mason?

I shut off the water and reached for a
paper towel.

“Ah!” Someone grabbed me from behind and
muffled my screams. His strong hand wrapped a dark cloth over my face before I
could see him in the mirror, then he pulled me back.

I heard a door open and shut, like he’d
taken me into a stall. Terror bit me all over my body. I didn’t stop squirming.
I knew I had to make a lot of noise if I wanted someone to hear me.

“Stop it or else,” he grunted.

That voice. It was him.
My stalker!

“If you keep fighting me, I will hurt
you, Bristol.” His lips brushed my ear, and I shuddered in disgust.

“Shh,” he hushed. “I thought we could
have a moment alone.”

Panicking, I writhed in his grasp again.
He tightened his hold around me and pressed an object into my stomach. “Do you
feel that?” he asked. “That is a very sharp knife.”

I stiffened.
Oh god
.
He’s
going to kill me!

“Stay still and I won’t hurt you,” he
said, as if he’d heard my thoughts.

Trying to calm down, I bobbed my head to
show that I would be quiet.

“Good,” he whispered, followed by a
conceited chuckle. He breathed sexually against my neck, like he was inhaling
me. “I’m going to uncover your mouth, but just your mouth. Will you scream,
Bristol?” he asked, shifting the knife at my stomach to warn me.

I turned my head from side to side.

“Good girl.” He pulled the cloth from my
mouth, my vision still trapped in darkness.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” I asked,
my voice cracked.

“Hmmm…” he drawled. “What am I going to
do? I have you so close again, and we’re really alone this time, but it’ll be
too hard to get you out of here without drawing attention, so I just want to
talk.”

“About what?”

“About us.” He kissed my neck. I
flinched, and a short and sensual laugh sputtered from his mouth.

“When are you going back to our home?”
he asked sweetly.

“That’s
my
home,” I fumed through
gritted teeth. “And I’m never going back there until you’re caught, you sick
piece of—”

“Careful now,” he grunted, pushing the
knife more into my stomach. I felt a slight pinch from the blade. “You just
don’t get it, Bristol.”

“Get what?” I sniveled.

“How much I love you,” he breathed out,
exasperated. “My love for is deeper than any other love in this world.”

“You’re insane. How can you love someone
you don’t even know?” I seethed.

He pulled tighter, his arm squeezing me.
“I know you inside out, Bristol. I know about the tattoo on your arm. I know
how much you desire a life away from your controlling mother. I know why you
like the little café near our home, and why you volunteer at that pathetic
center. I know why you’re always so concerned for your father. I know your
favorite color, favorite dress, and even your favorite TV show. I know these
things because I love you, Bristol. I’ll always. Love. You.”

Enraged by his madness, I snapped, “You
don’t know what love is. You sneak around like a coward and terrorize my life.”


Coward?
” he repeated, taken
aback. “I’m a coward?”

“Yes, coward. You don’t show yourself.
You won’t even tell me your name.”

He stayed quiet for a moment. I could
hear him breathing hard, boiling with fury. Then suddenly, he grunted at my
ear, “Vincent!”

I felt a sharp pain at the back of my
head. Limply, I slithered to the floor, still in darkness. A loud ringing
echoed in my ears, and then there was nothing, only silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I came to,
I was lying in the hospital. Again. Dad peered down at me; it was as if he’d
aged a few years since this whole thing started. “Are you… all right,
sweetheart?” he asked, his voice breaking.

“How’s your head?” a soothing voice
said. I turned and saw it was indeed my mom. She squeezed my hand and looked at
the door. Greg was standing there. “Mr. Wilcox was nice enough to bring you
here.”

“Please, call me Greg,” he told her.

“Thank you,” I said to him, easing up.
Pain erupted at the back of my head and I shrank back on the pillow.

“You should rest. The doctor said you
don’t have a concussion but to keep lying down for a while,” Dad explained.

“Did anyone see him?” I asked, staring
at Greg with my eyes opened wide. Baffled, he glanced at my parents. They
looked just as lost.

“What do you mean, honey?” asked Mom.
“Greg told us he sent a waitress to check on you when you didn’t come back to
the table, and she said it looked like you fell and hit your head in the
bathroom stall.”

“No…no.” I eased up. “He was there. He
covered my eyes and held me hostage in the stall.”

Dad’s nostrils flared. “He was
there?
Why didn’t you scream for help?”

“He threatened to kill me if I did,” I
retorted. “He had a knife to my stomach!”

Greg moved closer, hands in his pockets.
“But no one saw a thing, Bristol. Are you sure he was there?”

“Yes!” I snapped, not intending to.

He straightened.

Feeling bad, I apologized to him.
“Sorry.”

Greg waved me off. “It’s okay.”

“We should call the police,” Mom said,
terrified. “What’s the name of the young man that’s been helping?”

“Mason,” Dad answered. A warm feeling
engrossed me. I lowered my head, still apprehensive about seeing Mason again. I
blamed myself for the murder of his dog.

“I’ll give him a call,” Dad said. I
wanted to tell him no, to leave Mason out of it, but he stepped out of the room
before I had the chance, leaving me with Mom and a surprised-looking Greg.

“Wow, I had no idea this stalker thing
was
that
serious,” he mumbled to himself. Glancing at me, he said, “I’m
going to head back to the office. Bristol, why don’t you take the rest of the
week off? I’ll tell Beverly.”

“No,” I refuted. “I’m fine. I’ll feel
even better if I’m working.”

“Don’t worry about work. You should get some
rest and stay with your family until this guy is found.”

Hesitantly, I nodded, and Greg went on
his way after waving lightly to my mom.

I wasn’t surprised that even in a time
like this she was giving me her sneaky grin. “He’s a nice man. You know, if
it’s really over with Tyler, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give this Greg Wilcox
a try.”


Mom,
” I groaned. “I was just
held prisoner and knocked unconscious by a stalker that won’t leave me alone,
and you’re more concerned with finding me a boyfriend.”

“Oh honey.” She sat beside me and patted
my hand. “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I just…” She tucked my
disheveled hair behind my ears. I noticed a speck of grief in her eyes. “I
don’t want you to be alone like me.”

“I’m not alone,” I told her, forcing a
smile. “Neither are you. You have me and Dad.”

She heaved a sigh. “You should come home
with me. Your father works a lot and can’t protect you twenty-four seven. I
think it’s best you stay with me, at least until this lunatic is caught.”

I looked across at the window. It was
still so bright out; sunlight illuminated the room.

“It doesn’t matter where I go,” I
whispered. “He’ll follow me anywhere. He won’t stop until I’m…”

“Don’t think that way, sweetheart.” Mom
pecked me on the forehead. “I’m going to get some water. Do you want anything?”

“No,” I answered dryly, feeling
disheartened.

“Okay. Be right back.”

Lying alone in the room, I replayed what
happened at the restaurant in my head. He’d told me his name. I’d almost
forgotten. Vincent. But there could be hundreds of Vincents in Newport, not to
mention in the state. I needed a last name. I needed something.

Anything
.

The door pushed open, interrupting my
thoughts. Amber walked into the room and hurried to my side. “Bristol, are you
okay?” She leaned over and hugged me, sobbing on my shoulder. “I can’t believe
this happened again. When is it going to end?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Amber, get it
together,” Mom scolded as she entered. She meandered over and towed Amber away
from me. “I didn’t call you here to break down in front of Bristol.”

That answered my question as to how
Amber found out that I was back in the hospital. “I guess I should expect
Jules, too.”

“Bristol, you can’t keep something like
this from us. We’re your friends,” Amber said, sorrow drenched in her voice.

I lowered my head. “I don’t want to keep
dragging you into this. I mean, who knows what Vincent is going to do next.”


Vincent?
” Amber and Mom said at
the same time.

Dad strolled into the room then, and to
my dismay, Mason entered behind him. He locked his gaze on me as he asked, “Are
you okay?”

“I’m still here,” I tittered. My heart
was overjoyed to see him; after the ordeal with Marley, I’d been sure he’d stay
away.

The room became quiet, almost like
everyone else had disappeared except for Mason and me. We continued to stare at
each other, unabashed. In spite of what had happened, I wanted so badly to feel
his warm lips on mine again, to touch his skin and drown myself in the comfort
of his body.

“Ahem,” Dad cleared his throat. Mason
looked away. “The doctor said you can go home, but to keep an ice pack at the
back of your head.”

“What’s this about a Vincent?” asked
Mason, regarding me again, only this time he had a straight face. This was the
cop now.

“Oh,” I refocused. “Yeah, he told me his
name. It’s Vincent.”

“That’s all?” Amber yelped, frustrated.
“Damn it, there could be tons of Vincents in this town. What if it’s not even
his real name?”

“Still,” Mason said, “it’s something.
I’ll check the database and see what I can find.”

“Thank you.” Dad lightly slapped him on
the shoulder, grateful.

Mason shrugged. “It’s a long shot, but
it’s a start.”

He steered back to me and for a second,
I could have sworn that I saw the desire in his eyes that had been present on the
night we’d made love.

“Let’s get you home then,” Mom piped in.

I looked at Dad to make sure he was okay
with me going to Mom’s house instead of the condo.

He smiled and bobbed in agreement.
“You’ll probably feel safer in your old home.”

“I’ll ask the precinct to send a patrol
car,” Mason said.

Dad hugged me before leaving the room.
He nudged Mason to go with him so they could talk. Eyeing me once more, Mason
spun and stepped out of the room.

“Well,” Mom sighed. “Shall we?”

When I climbed off the bed, she draped
her arm around my waist. Amber stayed close as we left the hospital and Mom
drove me home.

 

 

Shortly after arriving at Mom’s, Julian
stopped by. We gathered in the living room and talked for a while. When my
friends took off, I went up to my old bedroom to lie down. It made me smile,
seeing the snowdrop blue paint on the walls from my teen years, my homemade
seashell table lamps, and the driftwood storage bench below the window.

But Dad was wrong: not even that house
could help me relax. I couldn’t shake the fear that Vincent might sneak into my
room. My body shivered when I remembered how he’d blindfolded me and held me so
close to him. He could have done much worse. Thankfully, he hadn’t.

Mom checked in on me throughout the
evening. Before heading off to bed, she came to my room one more time. “Would
you like some jasmine tea? It might help you fall asleep,” she offered, coming
over to the bed.

“No, I’m good.” I placed the ice pack on
the nightstand and lay on my side. “I’ll pass out soon.”

Sitting on the side of the bed, she
swept my hair off my forehead and smiled at me. “I’m glad you came home.”

Peering up at her, I observed her
demeanor. She seemed troubled. “Are you okay, Mom?”

Her chin dipped to her chest. “Yeah. I’m
just worried about you.”

“I’ll be all right,” I told her, then
remembered how some things were gone from the house. “What happened to the
paintings and the piano?”

My question caught her off guard. She
released a long sigh before she answered, “I’m thinking about selling the house
and downsizing, so I’ve been slowly putting things into storage.”

“Really?” Surprised, I lifted my head
from the pillow. “But why? This is where you grew up. My grandparents lived
here.
I
lived here.”

“That’s why I think it’s time to move
on.” She explained when I glowered in confusion, “Bristol, I feel so haunted,
and I know that even though there are some good memories here, I’m also well
aware of the bad ones.”

Mom stood and began pacing the room. I
watched her as she strolled over to the window, moving the patterned blue
curtain away to gaze up at the sky. “I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on
you,” she muttered, turning to face me again. “I was just so… It’s my fault our
relationship got this way. You couldn’t even tell me what was happening to
you.”

I sat up and leaned against the
headboard. “Mom, you don’t have to—”

She cut me off, “I have to talk about
this.” The emotional edge in her voice stirred me.

What’s going on with her?

Coming back to the bed, Mom continued
talking. “I’m sorry for all I put you through, Bristol. I guess I started to
care too much about impressing everyone else and lost sight of the important
things. In the midst of that, I lost your father and I drove you away.”

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