Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2)

by Morgan, Shane

  “Call me,” Amber muttered when I turned around. She hugged me tightly.

  Julian moved in for a hug once Amber let go. She whispered at my ear, “Sorry for what I said before.”

  I attempted a smile when she eased back. “It’s okay.” Looking at both of them I said, “I love you guys. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  When they walked away, Mason gave me another reassuring nod before opening the passenger door for me. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

  Dad drove away from the hospital the instant I got in the car. Downtown Newport was lit up on every corner and dotted with vibrant people along the streets. It was a popular spot for tourists no matter the hour, especially since summer was quickly approaching.

  I rested my hammering head against the seat and stared out the window. Everything seemed to slow down for me as we passed the many cheerful faces. I longed to be like them again, contented and without a care.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” asked Dad, his voice still speckled with distress.

  I continued to stare out the window while answering. “I’m fine.”

  He squeezed my shoulder for a beat. “Hang in there, kiddo.”

  We stayed quiet for the rest of the drive back to Middletown. A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking garage of Dad’s condo. Mason slowed down in front of the place as we filed out of the SUV and marched up the stone entrance.

  He hurried out of his car and treaded up to us. “Let me take a look first,” Mason advised, going inside the condo the instant Dad unlocked the door.

  My breath caught in my throat when I entered behind them. I studied the living area and kitchen, making sure my admirer hadn’t left another gift.

  Coming back from down the hall, Mason said, “Looks okay.” He focused on me as he added, “I’ll be outside the whole time so if you need me don’t hesitate.”

  “Thanks, Mason,” I whispered, grateful.

  “Thank you,” Dad said, drawing back his attention. “I appreciate you helping my daughter so much.”

  Mason appeared upset with himself. His voice was low as he spoke. “I guess it’s not enough if he’s gotten so close to her.”

  I started to say something, “No, you—”

  “I’m sorry about the way I acted at the hospital,” Dad told him, cutting me off. “It’s not your fault. I understand how complicated this is.”

  Mason didn’t reply, only nodded and stepped past us, going out the door. Dad locked it behind him.

  “Do you want anything, sweetheart?” he asked afterward, going over to the kitchen. He leaned against the island and glanced at the granite.

  I hugged myself. “No. I’m going to lie down.”

  “All right.”

  Just as I turned to walk away, he stopped me. “Oh, your mother was on a retreat. She’s on her way back though after I told her what happened. She said you didn’t call her.”

  “It slipped my mind,” I replied. “I’ll go see her in the morning.”

  He nodded, and I continued down the hall to the spare bedroom. I froze in the doorway when I saw the bed. The thought that he’d been so close to me, and that he’d touched me—it made me quiver in repulsion.

  Pulling all the strength I had left in me, I continued into the room and snatched up my duffle bag. I took out a night shirt to put on after taking a shower.

  Dad was sitting on the couch when I turned the corner to head into the bathroom. The TV was on, but he wasn’t watching it. He had a blank expression as he stared at the coffee table.

  I wanted to say something to him, tell him I was okay, but I couldn’t. There was no way I could alleviate his concern when I was barely holding up.

  After taking a long, warm shower, I went back to the bedroom and turned down the white sheets. Shakily, I crawled into bed and settled my head on the pillow. My dizziness had eased a tad. Still, it was so hard to relax knowing what could have occurred.

  Unable to calm my mind and not think about that creep’s hands all over my body, I slid out of bed and ambled over to the window. Moving the curtain away, I peered down at Mason sitting in his car. He held a steady gaze on the condo.

  Wanting to talk to him, I spun around and searched the room for my phone. Perhaps his voice would help quiet my thoughts. I spotted my cellphone on the dresser and crossed the room to pick it up, calling Mason.

  “Are you okay?” he asked the second he answered.

  A jagged breath escaped me before I replied, “Yeah. I just… I wanted to...” I didn’t know what to say, except that I needed to hear his voice, to recapture what I’d felt whenever I was around him: encircled by the safety he provided.

  “I was so scared tonight,” he confessed.

  There went my heart again, sprinting like it was in a race. I walked back to the window and peeked down at him. “Scared of what?” I asked, watching for his reaction.

  Mason searched the condo until he found me at the window. Suddenly shy, I slithered to the floor and sat with my knees up to my chest.

  He stayed quiet for a moment, like he was deep in thought. His silence evoked something intense in me. “That you were hurt,” he answered at last, his voice a whisper.

  I remembered his sister. Ariel. This whole thing was probably stirring up his scars—the raw pain of losing her. I hung my head and fought back tears. “You don’t have to go through this with me, Mason. I know it must be hard. Maybe you should—”

  “I’m not leaving you, Bristol,” he interjected. “I’m going to get this guy, and until then, I’m keeping you safe.”

  Mason’s words settled in my heart and erased my fears. I moved the curtain away and looked outside. He was still staring up at my window.

  “No matter what, you hang in there.” He seemed as if he wanted to say more but decided against it, telling me instead, “Try to get some rest.” Then he hung up.

  Pushing off the floor, I strolled over to the bed and turned off the lamp. I lay down and stuck my phone under the pillow, closing my lids right after.

  Having Mason outside comforted me, and before I knew it I was dozing off into the land of dreams.

  Dad’s voice jolted me out of sleep. I sat up in bed and stretched my hands over my head, then listened. He sounded like he was on the phone, probably talking to Mom. A nauseous feeling splashed over me—a reminder of the other night.

  Pushing the covers off to the side, I slipped out of bed and traipsed to the window, shielding my vision from the luminous sunlight as I approached.

  I moved the curtain aside. My stomach recoiled.

  Mason’s car was gone.

  I heard my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Going around the bed, I snatched it up and checked the screen. Disappointment punched me in the chest.

  It was Tyler. I ignored it.

  He’d always called around that time on Sundays if I hadn’t stayed over the night before.

  A rap at the door shook me. I spun as Dad stuck his head inside. “I was talking to your mother, sorry if I woke you.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him, half smiling. “She’s back?”

  “Yeah.” He looked past me and at the window. “Mason had to leave. He said he’ll stop by later.”

  “Oh,” I muttered, sad I hadn’t gotten to see him. “I’ll pay Mom a visit then run some errands.”

  Dad heaved a sigh of relief. “Okay. Want breakfast? I made coffee and toast, but I could throw in a bull’s-eye for ya?” he chuckled. It was my favorite thing he’d made when I was a kid. Actually, it was the best thing he made—aside from pasta.

  “Thanks, Dad. You don’t have to. Aren’t you heading out to work?”

  His shoulders sagged a bit. “I thought I’d take the day off and keep you company.”

  I held up a hand in protest. “Don’t even think about it. They need you at work. I won’t be here anyway. I’ll try to keep myself busy.”

  Dad scratched his head in thought and grumbled, “Are you sure, sweetheart? I don’t mind driving you
around.”

  “Dad, I—” My phone buzzed in my hand, interrupting me. It was a text message from Tyler.

  I’m sorry about what happened to you.

  Wish I could be there.

  Are u okay?

  How did he know? Oh, right. My mom must have said something.

  “Everything all right?” asked Dad.

  Nodding, I dropped my phone on the bed, then edged closer to him and led him outside the room. “I’m fine. Go to work.”

  He stopped in the hallway and stared at me, hesitant to leave. “Uh…okay. Be sure to go see your mother, she’s worried sick.”

  I scoffed. “You sure? She’ll probably blame me for attracting this creep.”

  “Sweetheart.” Dad spoke in a sincere tone. “Just go see her.”

  “Do I have to?” I used a fake, whiny voice.

  He huffed, growing upset.

  “Kidding. I’m going to see her.”

  “Thank you.” Dad walked away. I strolled behind him. Reaching the front door, he bent down to rifle through his tool bag.

  I stepped up to him and asked, “Are you guys close to finishing?”

  “Yeah, might even be done next week.” He grinned in excitement.

  “That’s great, and then what’ll you work on next?” I remembered how hard it had been for him getting back into construction after being arrested.

  Straightening, he picked up the tool bag off the floor and opened the door. Dad regarded me in a sidelong view. “I’m looking into some other sites. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll find something else. I always do.”

  I nodded, because it was true. No matter what happened, Dad always pressed on. It wasn’t in his nature to give up, and I wouldn’t either.

  “Hey, stop overthinking.” He patted my shoulder and nudged me out of my thoughts.

  “I’m not,” I told him with a smile. “Have a good day at work. Be safe.” I inched forward and hugged him tightly.

  Dad kissed me on the forehead. “Go see your mother,” he said once again before stepping outside and closing the door.

  Argh! My mother. I needed plenty of caffeine before seeing her.

  Pulling into the lavish suburban neighborhood an hour later, the white colonial style house was as attention-grabbing as ever.

  I drove up the earthy brown monarch entrance and turned at the shrubs in the center. Mom opened the front door, hurrying outside while I parked on the driveway. I barely got my feet out of the car before she slung her arms around me.

  “Thank goodness you’re all right. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “A little better,” I replied with my chin on her shoulder. It felt nice hugging her. Her body was warm, sweet-smelling like flowers, and comforting. I’d always longed for her to stop pushing and just hold me like that.

  After a moment she loosened her grip and placed a hand at my back, ushering me to the front door. The moment we entered the foyer, she dropped her hands on her hips and pursed her bright red lips. I swallowed hard and prepared for the lecture.

  “You have a stalker now?” She seemed aghast, her slit-like dark blue eyes scrutinizing me. I didn’t take much from my mom, only her short height, narrow nose, and high cheekbones.

  “Let me guess, it’s my fault,” I jeered.

  Mom shook her head, her long wavy blonde hair danced over her shoulders. She motioned for us to go into the living room. Her blue summer dress flared and her heels made a ruckus on the dark travertine tile as she strolled away, head high and poised with each step.

  I strode behind, looking around the place. Surprisingly, I didn’t see the landscape paintings that used to hang by the stairs. Entering the living room, my forehead creased at the empty spot where the piano I’d dreaded so much in my childhood used to be.

  What happened to them?

  I hadn’t been home in weeks, and I thought that maybe I’d feel a sense of peace in my old house, but I didn’t. Then again, it hadn’t been very peaceful when I was growing up.

  Mom inherited the house and her parents’ money after they died in an accident. She met and married my dad shortly after. They’d bumped into each other at a diner and his scruffy look had appealed to her, she’d told me once.

  Then things started to go sour, especially when she began pushing me into every little thing I hated to do. Plus Dad’s occupation became too unacceptable among her peers.

  “I’m disappointed,” she grumbled as she sat in the floral contemporary chair.

  Exasperated, I plopped down on the matching couch and placed a pillow on my lap. I dared to ask, “Why are you disappointed now?”

  She collapsed back in the chair and played with her turquoise halo ring, an heirloom passed down from her great grandmother. “Tyler says you won’t speak to him, and clearly you have trouble living on your own, yet you refuse to come home. Instead, you choose to stay at your father’s—who, by the way, is already having a hard enough time taking care of himself.”

  “Mom, stop. Dad is fine. As for Tyler, I told you, I’m not taking him back.”

  “Always so stubborn,” she reproved. Mom swept her hair off her shoulders and poured us iced tea. She handed me a glass and I drank at the same time she did.

  “So,” she continued after setting her drink down on the sage cottage-style coffee table. “What about this lunatic? Do the police have any leads?”

  Easing out on the couch, I placed my drink on the table. “No. I keep trying to figure out if it’s someone from college, someone I didn’t pay attention to.”

  “Humph.” Mom frowned. “Honey, perhaps you should stop being hardheaded and go back to your boyfriend, and then maybe this guy will back off once he sees you’re together again.”

  I turned my head in wonder and glared at her. “I can’t believe you. You don’t care about my feelings at all. You just want to keep your friendship with Tyler’s parents intact so you’ll be invited on their expensive vacations and have one more thing to brag about to your neighbors.”

  Mom shot forward, eyes widening as if she was revolted. “That’s ridiculous! Of course I care about your feelings, Bristol. That’s why I’m telling you to give Tyler another chance.”

  My pitch heightened. “Even though he hurt me?” I hopped up from the couch and folded my arms, infuriated. “I don’t know why I came here. You’ll never change.”

  “Honey.” She placed a hand at her heart as she stood. “You always get upset when I try to help.”

  “Help?” I laughed short. “Well, I’m sorry, but pushing me back to a cheating boyfriend isn’t going to help me. It’ll only set me up to get hurt again.”

  Sighing, Mom pinched the bridge of her nose, something she did whenever she was irritated.

  After a moment she looked at me again, appearing sad. “I’m always in the wrong when it comes to you. I don’t understand what I did to drive you away. You didn’t even tell me what was going on. I had to hear everything from your father. Do you know how hard it was for me, hearing that my daughter was in the hospital after being given a date rape drug?”

  “Unbelievable.” I tilted my head back and stared up at the ceiling. “There you go again, making everything about you.” Glancing at her, I unfolded my arms and pointed to my chest. “What about me? It happened to me, Mom. Not you.”

  She inhaled a deep breath and blew out slowly, relaxing a tad. “I know, Bristol. I’m not dismissing how horrifying it was for you. You could have been assaulted.”

  She started dabbing at her eyes with her fingers, her nails manicured and painted red. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much,” she sobbed. “My mother and I had a wonderful relationship. We shared everything. I only want the same for you and me.”

  “Christ…” I massaged my temples, feeling overwhelmed. Softening my tone, I said, “Mom, please cut it out. I don’t dislike you. You just make it hard for me when you’re always trying to run my life.”

  She dropped her hands to her side and her lips curled into a smile. “Well, isn’t
that what mothers do?”

  I raked my hand through my hair. “Anyway, I have to go. I told Amber I’d meet up with her. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Mom reached for my arm just as I turned to leave. “Can’t you stay a while?” she pleaded. “We’ve hardly talked. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “Whose fault is that?” I countered and writhed out of her grasp.

  She followed me from the living room. I opened the front door and stepped outside.

  “So what are you going to do about Tyler?” she continued, chasing me as I trekked across the stoned entrance toward my Kia.

  I bit my bottom lip to stop from screaming at her. I climbed in and started the car, wanting to leave without saying anything.

  Mom placed her hand on the door to stop me from shutting it. That didn’t bother me as much as the awful stench that was now inside the car.

  “Well? You know a guy like that won’t hold on forever,” she said.

  While peering around for the source of the smell, I reiterated to her, “For the hundredth time, Mom, it’s over between me and Tyler. Somewhere there’s a better guy for me. Someone who won’t cheat on me.”

  That might be Mason. A part of me wanted it to be him so badly.

  I gave up searching and yanked the door shut. The window was down. She arched over and stuck her hand inside to brush my cheek. “Please think about it some more, honey. Don’t be impulsive.”

  It hurt me that she only seemed to care about my relationship with Tyler. What about the creep? Or rather, my stalker. After all, there was a note above the dashboard.

  He knew where my mother lived too. Wonderful.

  I shrank into the seat, disgusted and so damn tired of this shit.

  “What is it, honey?” She straightened and squeezed her nose. “My god, what is that awful smell?”

  Pointing at the note, I replied, “It’s what you should be more concerned about.”

  Mom wrinkled her forehead and glanced at the blue note waiting for me. “Ugh, what is that?” she said while I snatched the note off the dashboard. I unfolded it and read the latest from my stalker.