Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1)

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Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) Page 12

by Unknown


  Poor Joanne, she’s been living out of a suitcase for the past two weeks. Sean has her traveling to all the newest and trendiest restaurants, eating and filming her experiences. She claims she’s gained at least ten pounds and is not a happy camper. I don’t believe her. She’s a size zero with a high metabolism.

  As for my fan, according to Trent, he continues to call. I haven’t answered the phone since that Sunday. Trent has forwarded the calls to his office to monitor them. He’s recorded at least twelve-incoming calls from this deranged man. He refuses to tell me what the messages entail. To be honest, I’d rather not know.

  I did, however, receive an e-mail from my psychotic stalker telling me he’s been jerking himself off while watching my show. He also wrote that soon I would be his little play doll. Bile rose up my throat at the thought of this asshole getting his hands on me. I called Trent, and he now has all unknown e-mails blocked and forwarded to him.

  I asked Trent if he received any more e-mails from the stalker, but he refused to answer me. Again, I guess this is for the best. I told him earlier he could exempt himself from the case. He scolded me and said whatever differences Michael, and I had; they have nothing to do with him. He will continue his search for this ‘demented fuck’ as he calls him. I thanked him with all my heart.

  I offered to pay him, and he reprimanded me again. He said to fix Michael’s ass for hurting me, the invoice would be tripled, and he’d have one of his oversized bodyguards personally deliver the bill and demand payment on sight, or else. Blake and Joanne had a great laugh when I told them what Trent planned to do.

  Last night was an eventful evening. One I never want to relive again. I was going stir-crazy trapped in my apartment. I’m sick and tired of having to be escorted in and out of the building by Blake or one of Trent’s guys.

  I decided to take a jog through the park. I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I did call Blake and asked him to meet me at our usual spot. He insisted I wait for him to pick-me-up. I declined and said I was leaving now and hung up.

  I dressed in workout clothes, sneakers and wrapped my hair into a ponytail. I left the building heading across the street. The time was about seven, and the sun had already set. I plugged in one ear bud, so I would be alert to my surroundings. I pulled up my favorite music and pressed play.

  I ran onto the paved, lit trails leading me deep into the park. However, I had an unsettling feeling someone was following me, or maybe I was getting paranoid. I kept looking over my shoulder, but the area was desolate. I wasn’t far from Blake.

  A cool, brittle breeze prickled my skin. The slight scent of the pine needles and wet greeneries tingled my nose. I gazed at the overhanging limbs and the leaves dancing against the slight wind. I stared at the stars flickering over me through the lattice of trees.

  I jumped out of my skin when I spotted something in an overgrown patch of bushes up ahead. I relaxed after taking a closer peek to capture the glow of animal eyes.

  A chill filled the air. I knew someone was following me; my gut screamed it out. The sounds of the traffic dissipated as I ran farther into the park, only to confirm I was correct; I had company. My heart halted when the sounds of footsteps echoed behind me. I knew I couldn’t have been hallucinating. I quickly turned, and a large figure dove into the tall shrubs disappearing behind the trees. My instincts screamed ‘Run’.

  My pulse pounded viciously in my ears, my lungs heaving painfully in my chest. I had to stop so I could breathe. I needed to get to Blake, so after thirty seconds of recovery, I took off at a full sprint. My thighs and calves burned, and my shins ached. My lungs screamed, and my heart continued to slam hard within the walls of my chest.

  I stopped breathing long enough to hear the sounds of footsteps behind me. They were approaching closer. I was afraid to turn. I pushed myself harder. Sweat was penetrating through my skin. My bangs plastered against my forehead. My heart was still pounding, my lungs begging for a break. I realized I should call Blake. I reached for my phone attached to my arm. He answered at the first ring.

  “Ariana,” Blake huffed out.

  “Blake, I’m being . . . followed. Please can you hurry . . . down the path we usually take on our run?” I rush out breathless.

  “I’m heading there now. Are you sure?” He asked, gasping for air.

  “Of course . . . I’m . . . not making this up,” I sputtered out between panting breaths. “Trust me on this.” I paused to catch my breath. My poor depleted lungs were withering away to nothing. “Please,” I spew out with a desperate cry.

  “I’m on the trail, just keep running, Ariana. Don’t look back,” Blake ordered sounding winded.

  “Okay,” I agreed and disconnected the call.

  Seconds later, I let out a bloodcurdling scream as my assailant violently pulled my ponytail and shoved me onto the cold, wet, ground covered in grass and pine needles. I can smell the sweet earth along with a repulsive odor of alcohol and cigarettes, causing me to gag.

  He wrapped his grimy hands over my mouth. I cringed with disgust when his callus, grubby fingers touched my face and arms. He pulled me by the hair and smacked my head against the ground. I cried out from the stabbing pain shooting through my skull. His solid body laid over mine, shoving all the air from my lungs. His breathing was harsh against my neck, reeking of body odor.

  Panic coursed through me. Is he carrying a knife, a gun? Is he planning to kidnap me, rape me, or worse? An explosion of fear tore into me, and I squirmed and whimpered. Tears cascaded across my face, seeping into the soil.

  “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth. Don’t fuckin’ say a word baby doll, or I’ll snap your neck in two,” he rasped out, and the sound of his poisonous voice tore into me like a jagged knife.

  I gasped, and my eyes grew wide as realization slammed into me and every muscle in my body cringed. No, this couldn’t be happening; it was him, my stalker. Oh, God, oh, God, please help me!

  “I love your skin . . . so soft . . . and silky,” he grated out. I winced as he stroked my arms with his coarse fingers.

  My heart began to pound wild, racing to a near explosion, jump-starting my adrenaline. I turn to look at my assailant.

  “I don’t think so, baby doll,” he grated out and smacked me across the side of my face scraping my outer ear. A trickling sensation followed as something wet and warm slithered down from my ear like slime, finding its way into the corner of my mouth. I tasted the familiar metallic flavor and gasped in horror when I realized it was blood. A wave of dizziness took over, and bile rose up to my throat. I swallowed it down with disgust.

  Where is Blake? Why would I have expected him to be here by now? I had only gotten off the phone with him two minutes ago.

  Oh, God, what was I thinking when I left the apartment? I can’t get over the stupid move I made. Everyone warned me, but no; I didn’t listen. I insisted on going for a jog. Oh, stop beating yourself up, Ariana. This isn’t a time for a meltdown. You need to outsmart this demented asshole.

  I had to figure a way to get him off me. He had my arms pinned beneath me. I wiggle a little to lift up my right side just enough to get my hand loose. God, he weighed a ton. I combed the ground for a branch, a rock, or anything, only to be disappointed when I grasped a bunch of roots embedded in the dirt, feeling defeated.

  “Oh Ariana, you smell delicious. I’m taking you home with me. We are going to have some fun,” he rasped out, breathing heavy against my neck. “I bought a king-size bed for us,” he whispered, and I cringed as his grimy hands touched me all over. Terrifying thoughts rushed through my mind. There is no way in hell I’m going anywhere with this crazed maniac. Oh, God. Think fast Ariana.

  I decided my only chance of survival was to use a few of my kickboxing moves, so I jerked and twisted my body violently, kicking my legs with full force. I pushed my elbow into his gut so hard he rolled off, grunting in pain. I gasped as he took hold of my hair and pulled it as he cursed, calling me a bitch.

 
Relief coursed through me when Blake’s voice sang out from a distance. The psycho immediately stood up, and I turned to face him, only to get a view of his big, bulky back scurrying off in a sprint into the trees.

  “Ariana, Ariana,” Blake called out. Oh, Blake, how fast could he have been running? The poor man was wheezing, panting for breath.

  I crawled across the cold ground, wincing as rocks and branches tore through my yoga pants and into my skin. I tried to call Blake’s name, but nothing came out. I got onto the paved trail, and Blake found me, collapsing next to me on his hands and knees.

  “Ariana, oh my God, Jesus . . . what the . . . hell happened?” Blake said breathlessly as he wrapped me in his trembling arms.

  “Blake! Thank God you showed up when you did,” I cried out as I pulled away, brushing off the grit and dirt from my body with shaking hands. Blake drew me back into his chest, his body still shuddering with mine. “Blake . . . baby . . . the attacker, he called me doll . . . Baby,” I explained in a heated rush, but I wasn’t making any sense.

  “Ariana!”

  I jolted by the familiar voice with eyes wide as an owl. I gazed up, and Trent was standing right beside us.

  “Damn, Ariana, what the hell were you thinking coming out here in the dark and by yourself. Are you crazy?” Trent exploded.

  Trent’s tone of voice didn’t just express concern; he was livid and angry with me. He knelt down beside us.

  “How did you . . . how did you know I . . .” I asked, surprised, feeling weak and disoriented.

  Both men helped me to my feet. I glanced at myself all covered in filth, and every laceration over my body stung like hell.

  “I called him,” Blake blurted out in a rush, still catching his breath and examining me from head to toe. Blake muttered something about the blood all over my face.

  “I’m sorry, guys; I was going stir-crazy. I needed a run,” I said as the shock began to set in, pouring through me like a violent storm. I started to tremble, and a cold and clammy sensation began to settle over me. I felt light-headed.

  “Blake, she needs to get to the hospital,” Trent ordered.

  “No,” I yelled out, glaring at both men.

  “Yes, Ariana, you’re bleeding,” Blake argued.

  “It’s just from my ear. Can you call Josh to come out, please?” I beg.

  Trent pulled his phone out in haste and called Josh. After a few minutes, he disconnected the call and glared at me.

  “Josh is on his way. Let’s get you back to your apartment. In the meantime, I have my guys combing through the park for the bastard.” From his facial expression and the sound of his tone, I could tell he was still angry . . . well, more like furious with me. He brushes his hands over his pale face.

  “Did you get a good look at him, Ariana?” Trent asked.

  I shake my head, closing my eyes. “No. I tried to look, but he hit me and laid his heavy body over me. He reeked of alcohol, cigarettes and body order. I did get a glimpse of his back when he took off after he heard Blake’s voice. He appeared tall, built big, solid and had blond hair.”

  We walked through the park in silence and out into the busy city streets of Manhattan. My body trembled uncontrollably and my head spun in so many different directions everything was a blur. What would have happened if I hadn’t called Blake? I shivered at the unwanted thoughts of this man, this stalker, attacking me. Blake pulled me so tight up against his body I was breathless.

  We reached my apartment, and minutes after, Josh showed up.

  “Ariana,” he spoke, with disapproval seeping through his voice.

  I couldn’t bear to face him.

  “You are going for an x-ray. I have a friend who’s a radiologist and his clinic is not far from here. This is the second head injury you’ve encountered. This is not a game,” Josh orders, with a disapproving look in his eyes.

  I’ve read enough about head injuries and people dying, even from a minor blow, to know better. I may have been lucky the first time, but I may not be so lucky the second time around.

  “Yes,” I said without argument.

  “Ariana, you’re going to need a forensic examination. I’ve already placed a call to Angela, who works for the organization. She is a general practitioner. She worked part-time for the police. I’ll have her meet us at the clinic.

  “She’s experienced in dealing with all aspects of assaults as well as forensic examinations. She will take a description of the events that happened during the attack and get your medical history before she examines you. You will be asked to remove all your clothing and place them in a bag to be sent out to the lab for DNA testing.” Trent explains.

  God, this sounds so invasive I cringed just thinking about his wretched hands against my face. I didn’t even want to relive the scene, but I had to agree.

  “Yes, of course,” I said, and out of nowhere Michael pops into my head. I could only imagine how Michael would react knowing his two brothers were here because of my inconceivable actions. The man would go into cardiac arrest, lock me away and throw away the key.

  Thank God, I broke it off with him, but for a brief moment, memories of his emerald eyes, his deep voice whispering over my ear, his kisses and his warm flesh against my skin invade my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut as my chest begins to constrict painfully, the thought of possibly seeing him again makes me uneasy and edgy. Damn it! Why do I miss him so much? What is it about him that has every cell in my body feels so alive, so full of energy and glowing as bright as the stars? I tried countless times to convince myself that I made the right choice. He’s like Danny, controlling and dominating, but it didn’t help. I still miss the pompous ass.

  “Ariana,” Trent calls out, pulling me back to the present.

  He had my attention, and I knew where this conversation was leading.

  “Yes, Trent?”

  “Michael is going to go off the wall when he gets wind of this. You should at least call him.”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t owe him any explanations,” I expressed, pacing around the room nervously.

  “He’s going to demand to see you, Ariana. You know he’ll make a scene if you don’t let him up here,” Josh explained, sounding irritated.

  “Then I’m confident you will keep this little mishap to yourselves,” I snapped. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to bite your heads off, but I never want to see him again.”

  “You don’t mean that, I know you still care for him. I can see it in your eyes every time someone mentions his name.” He took in a frustrated breath and continued, “It’s not even an option, Ariana. This isn’t something I can keep from my brother. He’s worried sick about you. I know he hurt you. He made a mistake. We all do,” Trent commented. “Just sleep on what I said.”

  “Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but he cares a great deal for you, and he’s sorry. We’ve never seen our brother like this over any woman. You’ve turned his whole world inside out. It scares him and maybe that’s why he acted the way he did. He doesn’t know what to do with all these mixed emotions stirring inside of him, and he’s not the man you think he is. Yes, he can be controlling at times, overbearing, but you have him all wrong. Think about it,” Josh said defending Michael.

  I nodded and blew out a long breath.

  Chapter 11

  Polo

  Angela was already at the clinic when we arrived. The examination and questioning wasn’t as invasive as I thought it would be. I hope the examiners find something to track this psycho before I go insane.

  I was relieved when the results of the x-rays came back negative. I suffered no concussions or fractures. Josh attended to the minor cuts and scrapes, and my ear had a minute gash. Amazing how much blood oozes out from a tiny cut.

  I sank deeper and deeper into the back seat of Trent’s BMW convertible as, he, Josh and Blake included all scolded me the whole way home, which felt like an eternity. Trent took it even further, and when he stopped at a red light, he turned hi
s head around, looked me straight in the eyes and swore, if I ever pull a trick like that again he would place me over his knees and spank me. I laughed at the last remark. As if I would ever allow such an act.

  Blake insisted he spend the night with me, which I was grateful for. I was restless most of the night. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. I tossed and turned numerous times before I finally fell asleep, only to jerk out of bed from a nightmare, screaming in my sleep, covered in sweat and breathing fast and hard.

  Blake rushed in, pulled me into his arms, and held me close until the tremors abated, and I fell back to sleep.

  ***

  I wake up feeling achy and sore and to a familiar scent. Blake had made me a cup coffee and placed it on my nightstand before he left to be with Francis. I brush my teeth, shower and get dressed. I grab my mug, which was once hot and heat it in the microwave.

  I stand staring out the glass doors, watching the patches of clouds float by across the blue sky as I berate myself for the stupid stunt I pulled yesterday. I don’t know what came over me except that I was losing my sanity and needed a run. I shake my head and walk out onto the terrace. I sit on one of the chaises and take a long sip of my hot coffee, relishing the sweet aroma of hazelnut. I shouldn’t be out here. The damn psycho is probably watching me.

  God, what a nightmare this is turning out to be. This jerk is way too smart, but he’ll get caught; they all do. The question is when? After he’s driven me to a nervous breakdown, kidnaps me or . . . kills me? Ahhh! I just want to scream.

  Michael hasn’t made any contact with me this whole week. Why should I be surprised? I told him I never wanted to see him again. I’ll admit; on a few occasions, I wished he came after me, and convince me he’s not the man I’m accusing him of being, and not give up until I heard what he had to say and then leave it up to me to decide. Oh God, I’m just kidding myself? I can be so stubborn I probably would have thrown him out or hung up on him.

 

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