Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) (22 page)

Worried about my friends,
I tried Amber’s phone again, but she still had it turned off. I called Julian
to make sure she was all right. My pounding heart settled when I heard her voice.
She was at work. Not wanting to spook her, I lied and said I was just curious
about how things were at the office.

“Everything’s fine,” she said,
reassuringly. “Don’t think about work. I know it must still hurt about Tyler so
take as long as you need.”

 I massaged my temple. “Thanks,
Jules. You’ve been great throughout this whole thing.”

“It’s what friends do. I hope you
weren’t too hard on Amber when she stopped by this morning.”

Her words threw me. I sprang from the
bed. “What do you mean? I thought she was still on her trip.”

“No…” Julian drawled while she
considered. “She was supposed to be back yesterday.”

“Well, have you spoken to Amber since
she left?” I asked, mortified.

Julian took a moment before she
answered. “Not since Saturday morning when she was leaving. I tried calling her
to let her know about Tyler. Her phone went to voicemail. I didn’t think
anything of it.”

Knots twisted in my gut. This couldn’t
be happening. “Jules, I’m going to try calling her again and then stop by her
house.”

“Okay, let me know if you talk to her.”

I disconnected the call and tried
Amber’s phone. Her voicemail picked up. Something was wrong. I sent her a text
to call me back as soon as possible. Six weeks before, I probably wouldn’t have
been worried, but everything had changed.

Who was the guy she’d gone away with?
 Who was Roman Orsini?

I thought back to the night of the
fundraiser and the tall frame that had stood by the entrance of the restaurant.
His eyes…I’d seen them before. The music he liked. Amber said it was classical.

Classical!

A light bulb went off inside my head. I
stormed out of my room and bustled down the stairs. Dad was sitting in the
living room reading the newspaper. I peeked out the window by the front door.
The cop wasn’t here yet.

“Dad.” I tried to stay calm as I spoke.
“I’m going to drive by Amber’s house and see if she’s home.”

He set the paper down and looked at me
with his eyes narrowed into crinkled slits. “Are you sure that’s okay? Maybe
you should just call her.”

“She’s not answering,” I told him. “I
want to make sure she’s all right. She’s probably tired from her trip and
forgot to turn on her phone or something.”

Dad observed me for a while, thinking.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’m not
going anywhere else and I’ll come right back once I’ve seen her. I promise.”

He considered this a bit more, then
finally said, “All right, but call me when you get there and when you’re
heading home.”

“I will,” I told him, then spun to
leave.  

I grabbed my car keys off the hook by
the staircase and hurried out the front door. Hopping inside my Kia, I phoned
Mason as I backed off the driveway and turned down the street.

“Bristol? What hap—”

“Run a search on a Roman Orsini,” I cut
him off. “If nothing comes up, try Vincent Orsini or Vincent Roman. Just mix
those names up and see what you can find.”

“Hold on, what’s going—”

“Mason, Amber isn’t answering her phone.
I haven’t seen her since Friday and she hasn’t spoken to Julian either. She went
away with some guy named Roman Orsini. He was at the fundraiser. I just…
Something doesn’t feel right. I’m heading over to her place now.”

“Bristol, wait,” he pleaded. “Don’t go
there alone.”

I told him the address, “It’s
twenty-eight Clay Street in Newport.” Then I hung up so I could concentrate on
driving. Amber was like a sister to me and if Roman Orsini turned out to be who
I suspected he was, then Amber had found herself in some serious trouble
because of me. If it came down to it, I’d rather give myself up to Vincent than
let him hurt her. Hopefully I was wrong and Amber was okay.

Pulling up outside the white, Cape
Cod-style rental, I shut off the car and flung the door open. I ran up the
steps to the front door and knocked.

“Amber!” I tried the knob; it wasn’t
locked. I opened the door and hurried inside, calling out again, “Amber!”

My voice echoed throughout the quiet
house. Clenching my phone in my fist, I turned left and ambled through the
doorway leading into the living room. The screen door to the back porch was
open. I continued across the hardwood floor, the wood squeaking with each step.

“Amber?” I muttered, stepping out on the
porch. I glanced around the yard. She wasn’t anywhere.

Just as I turned to go back inside to
search upstairs, someone hurried up to me and covered my mouth with a dampened
cloth. My cellphone fell while I was clawing at his hands. He was so strong; he
wouldn’t let up.

I started to feel weak. My struggles
grew less and less as I lost all strength in my body. Eventually, my hands
dropped to my sides and my legs fell numb.

My vision faded in and out. He moved his
hands from my mouth and lifted me up into his arms, holding me close to his
chest. There was that strong, leathery cologne again, and I could see his
blurred face hovering above me.

He whispered, “My love, we’ve finally
been reunited.”

“No…” I whimpered and tried to fight,
but my body wouldn’t obey. I was as limp as a ragdoll, and now he was free to
play with me.

He started to carry me away. I fought to
stay conscious, but it was useless. “Am…Amber…” I groaned. “Where…”

“Shh,” he hushed me.

I drifted off for a moment, but pushed
even harder to stay conscious as I felt him place me on a hard surface.
Panicked, I commanded my eyes to open, my body to do something. I just couldn’t
move.

He’d drugged me again.

I heard a car door shut, and my body
rattled as he started to drive away.
Oh no!
Vincent was taking me.

Mason, I hope you’ll come save me.

Rough, skeletal hands
stroked my cheek and I heard a haunting piano melody. A classical piece. My
eyes fluttered open. I looked up at a dark ceiling; the room appeared old and
shadowy. There were no windows, candles providing the only light.

I winced when I glanced around and caught
my stalker’s face. It really was him, the man from the fundraiser. Roman
was
Vincent.

He moved his head slowly from side to
side, studying me. Strands of his messy black hair dangled over his menacing
dark eyes, and his thin lips curled slightly into a pleased smile. His skin was
as pale as before with splotches of dark spots on his neck.

He looked so simple; regarding me in
such a sincere way that it was hard to believe he’d been tormenting me for the
past few weeks. Then a treacherous grin stretched his lips, sending a new and
bigger wave of fear all over my body.

Vincent braced forward to touch my cheek
again. I recoiled and tried to get away. That’s when I felt the restraints and
looked up at my hands. They were tied on each side to the headboard, and my
legs were spread apart and bound at the foot of the bed.

Teary eyed, I gazed back at my captor,
my body shaking nonstop.

“Sorry about the chloroform,” he said
sweetly, rising from the bedside. “It was the only way I could take you with me
without a fight.”

Vincent walked over to an old wooden
table where he had the white, scented candles burning. He poured water from a
jar into a glass and strolled back to me.

“Where’s Amber?” I asked through
trembling lips. “What did you do to her?”

Sitting down on the side of the bed
again, he held the glass to my mouth. “Drink it.”

I shook my head.

His muscular face twisted in anger. “If
you don’t drink it, I’ll go back for Amber and finish her off.”

“Okay,” I said quickly. “I’ll drink it.”

“Good.” A smile reemerged as he put the
glass to my lips and helped me drink the water. My lips quivered so much I
spilled some on myself.

Vincent moved the glass away and wiped
my mouth with his hand. He stood and wandered over to the table to put down the
glass, and then he picked up a remote and switched to a more romantic number.

“You must have a lot of questions,” he
said, watching me over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know
now.”

I kept my eyes on him as he walked to
the armchair on the right side of the room and sat down. “You made me very
angry when you refused to go back to our home. This was supposed to end last
night, you know. I was going to tell Amber that there was someone else and let
that be that.

“Then when I was driving her home, she
started questioning me about the leaf pendant she’d found while snooping in my
car. Nosy bitch. After that, I knew it was only a matter of time before she
figured out that I was your stalker. So, I drugged her and tied her up
somewhere safe. Whether she lives or dies depends on how this day ends for you
and me.”

“She has nothing to do with this. Please
let her go,” I begged.

Vincent scoffed. “The only way I’ll do
that is if you choose me.”

“What?”

“Choose me.” He pushed up from the chair
and sidled over to the bed. “Love me, Bristol. Leave Newport with me.”

I observed him for a moment. One wrong
word would make him snap. I had to play it right. I’d watched enough thrillers
to know how these deranged men operated. All I had to do was tell him what he
needed to hear.

“I’ll leave with you, Vincent. Just
please let Amber go and promise me you won’t hurt anyone else.”

He wore an unreadable expression as he
drank me in. I wasn’t sure what was going on inside that sick head. His
quietness was terrifying, so much so that I winced when he spoke again. “You
must think I’m stupid. Don’t try to use that pretty head on me, Bristol. I can
see the truth in your eyes. You would do anything to protect the people you
love, even lie to me, just like Savannah.”

My forehead wrinkled. “Who’s Savannah?”

He appeared so sad then, glancing away.
“My first love. She—” He stopped and spun back to me, saying instead, “It
doesn’t matter, you won’t love me.”

“Love is a growing thing,” I replied,
trying to steady my nerves. “You can’t force someone to love you with notes and
gifts, or even killing your competition.”

“I killed the wrong guy,” he grunted,
backing away from the bed. My stomach churned when he returned to the table and
picked up a knife.

“Are you familiar with mummification?”
he asked while scrutinizing the tip of the blade. “It’s an Egyptian ritual.
I’ve been watching a lot of them lately. I don’t know why they stopped doing
it; the process is quite…fascinating. Perhaps I should try it on Mason Daniels.
I’ve been thinking of special ways to end his life.”

Oh no.
Not Mason.

My heart felt like it was about to burst
out of my chest. Vincent turned to leave. I called after him, “No, wait.”

Looking at me sideways, he asked, “Why
should I?”

“What’s your real name?” was all I could
think of.

He arched a brow. “My real name?”

“Y-yes,” I stammered, then bit my bottom
lip to calm down. I continued in a more even tone, “It’s the first step…in
getting to know someone, and you want me to love you so let me know you. Tell
me who you are. Tell me about the first time you saw me. What made you fall for
me?”

I seemed to have convinced him, because
he paced back to the table and set down the knife.

Sighing, he said in a soft tone, “My
name is Roman, but I prefer Vincent, like that well known actor. I noticed you
have a few of his movies on DVD.”

Creep!
He knew every
little thing.

“The first time I saw you, Bristol,” he
went on, “you were having an argument with your ex-boyfriend down by the bay.
He’d upset you so much that you stood there for a while crying. Even when you
cried you were beautiful.”

He stared at me in awe, and then moseyed
over to the side of the bed and sat. It took all I had not to grimace when he
touched my leg. “I remember wishing it was me who was your boyfriend. I’d work
so hard to always keep you happy, to never make you cry.”

“That was four months ago,” I murmured,
remembering the fight. I’d been upset with Tyler because he’d forgotten my
birthday and instead of spending the night with me, he’d wanted to go to
Providence to watch a basketball game with friends. “You’ve been watching me
for four months?”

He smiled while nodding his head. “I
knew that in time you’d see he didn’t deserve you. The wait was dreadful
though, so much that I wanted to confess my love on the day you bumped into
me.”

I bumped into him?

“You don’t remember,” he said, noticing
my confusion. “You were so sad that day. I discovered what Tyler had done, so I
went and bought you the first rose. Knowing you were hurt, I understood that
you needed time to heal.”

My god!
I should have looked up that day. Damn it, why hadn’t I looked up? It wouldn’t
have come to this had I seen his face then.

“You’re such a caring person,” Vincent
said. “So driven, strong, and always so nice to everyone.” He stopped and
chuckled to himself. “It was really hard to keep away. I was drawn to you,
Bristol, like a moth to a flame, and the more I learned about you the more
jealous I became of everyone, especially Tyler.”

“But I broke up with him, you didn’t
have to kill him,” I whimpered.

He twitched his mouth, upset. “He kept
bothering
you. He wouldn’t leave you alone,” he said in his defense. “You had a history
with him, Bristol. I couldn’t risk you going back to him.”

“I wouldn’t have,” I retorted.

Vincent smirked. “Right, because of
Mason.” He stood. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with him shortly.”

“Look, you don’t have to hurt anyone
else,” I told him, fighting the urge to scream and curse at him. “You have me now,
Vincent. I won’t let anyone get in the way. Never again.”

Apprehensive, he screwed up his features
and sank back on the bed. “You really mean it?” he asked, leaning over to graze
my cheek with the back of his hand.

I swallowed hard and nodded while whispering,
“I’m yours.”

A smile slit his lips. Vincent slowly
caressed my leg and trailed his hand up my thigh. “It means a lot to hear you
say that, Bristol. I’ve waited so long for you to realize that it’s me you
should be with.”

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. I
squeezed my eyes shut as he whispered, “You’re the girl I’ve wanted all my
life. You accept people for who they are. You’re not concerned with status or
material things. You’re happy as long as you’re loved, and that’s why I chose
you. I want to give you that. Will you let me?”

I had to get my hands free. I had to
keep playing this game.

Trying hard to relax my thrashing heart
and steady my body, I held his gaze while whispering, “Yes.”

Vincent’s face lit up with delight.

He believed me.

Bile rose to my throat when he lowered
and pressed his lips to mine. It took all I had not to barf in his mouth.

He needed to believe he had control of
me. If I was going to live, I had to lose myself to him.

When he swept his tongue across my mouth
and parted my lips, I did the most disgusting thing I had ever done: I allowed
him to slip it inside. I wanted to bite it off and spit it back down his throat
so he’d choke on it, but it was the only way to get free. I had to subdue my
revulsion and play along.

Groaning, Vincent began touching my
chest while he kissed me harder, smothering my mouth. He crawled on top of me
and started kissing my neck.

He respired heavily on me, his breath a
mixture of wine and peanuts. I grew even more afraid as I felt his hardness
against me.

“Hmm…um…hey…” I mumbled, my voice soft
and sensual.

Vincent stopped and pulled back in
confusion. “I thought you wanted me.”

“I do,” I said with a fake smile and
gestured to my bound hands. “Not like this.”

His eyes flicked to my restraints, then
glanced back at me, hesitant. Vincent climbed off and treaded over to the
table, turning his back on me. His head shook, as if he were deliberating.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, fearing he’d
discovered my act.

Spinning around, he shook his head in
disbelief. “No. You’ll change your mind. You’ll run away like Savannah.”

That name again.

I didn’t question him about her. I
dismissed it and kept going. “No. I won’t run, Vincent. I promise. Now please
untie me.” I added in a flirty tone, “So I can give you what you deserve.”

Hearing that, he chewed the corner of
his bottom lip in lust and his eyes floated over my body, undressing me. He
raked a hand through his messy hair and exhaled severely, still hesitant, but
also wanting to trust me.