Oceans Apart: Book 1

by Amanda Heartley

  That’s what I wanted.

  I knew, right then and there, that I wanted Ginny Peterson. Not Vanessa. Not another English girl. I wanted my American beauty and I would have to do something about it. “Vanessa,” I said, keeping my voice low and even. “I might miss those things, but I don’t miss you. I miss having someone give a shit about me, and not waking up alone, but I don’t miss listening to you go on and on about all the things you could have or how much richer I could be if I took a better job in my father’s company. So just…stop.”

  “Tristan—”

  “Stop,” I said again, punching in the code. “It’s not going to happen. Go play someone else for a fucking fool, because it won’t be me this time. Not again.”

  As I walked into my apartment, I remembered the new text message on my phone and I hoped it was Ginny.

  No luck. It was my dad. I clicked on his picture, and the message read ”Get packed, the deal went through, we are leaving at midnight.”

  ”Where to?” I responded to the text. Fuck! Old man. That gave me less than forty-five minutes to pack and shower. And I didn’t even know where the fuck we were going this time as there were a lot of contracts on the table. Last I knew it was bloody South Africa.

  As I started the hot water in the shower, I messaged Ginny as fast as I could. “Going somewhere with Dad, will let you know. No time right now.”

  Chapter 13 — Ginny

  I peeked out the window and the van was still out there.

  I had watched it all weekend, and it only moved a couple of times. The house across the street from ours was for sale, so there was no one to complain about it being parked outside. When I had come home from work that night, there was no one inside it, but something sharp still twisted in my gut.

  It wasn’t even a threatening-looking van, not white like the stereotypical villain’s van. This one was a deep blue color, and looked like it had been used to transport kids to soccer practice or something, which made me feel even sillier for being afraid of it.

  “Is it still out there?” Kari asked over the phone.

  She’d apologized for being mean about Tristan, and we’d both declared it water under the bridge to focus on the more pressing matters, like what to wear to the club next Friday night. I think she could tell I wasn’t going to stop liking him just because we couldn’t be together physically, so she dropped it.

  It was Monday, and I’d come home alone since Kari had another project to work on at the office. “Yeah,” I replied, biting my lip and locking the door behind me. “Same spot as always. You think maybe we should call the police?”

  “I don’t know. You think someone’s in there? Brad, maybe?”

  “No one’s in there right now, but…” I just had a feeling. The last time I’d talked to Tristan, he had warned me to be careful. He’d said that most of the time when women got kidnapped or hurt, it was someone they knew from their past who was responsible, and I could just see Brad trying to do something like that even if I didn’t want to believe he was capable of it.

  He’d never given up. Even after I’d told him to fuck off at the club, I still saw him all over the place. He magically appeared in places he knew I would be, and he still left messages on my phone. I was at my wits’ end and seriously considering changing my number, but then I’d have to tell my boss why I needed a new number, since the phone belonged to the company. But, I finally realized, the stalking was getting fucking ridiculous.

  “Just…keep the doors and windows locked, okay?” Kari was saying in my ear. “I’ll be here for at least another hour, but I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  “Okay.” The thought of being home alone had me terrified. I’d never been worried about being out at night or being home alone before now, and if Brad ever showed his face again after this mess was over, I was going to punch him. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

  “You’ll be okay, Gin. Call the police if you feel like you need to. Even if it’s nothing, better safe than sorry.”

  That was the same thing Tristan had told me to do, and both of them were right. This had gone on long enough, and I wanted to go back to not being afraid in my own home. Once I hung up with Kari, I sent Tristan a message, letting him know I was going to call the police and that I’d tell him what was going on as soon as I knew something.

  “Maybe I should eat dinner,” I muttered to myself and walked into the kitchen. Food would take my mind off things while I waited to see if anyone was going to come back to the van or not.

  I really wanted to talk to Tristan, but I received his message earlier that they were going somewhere and he was probably on his way to their company thing. Although he did say he would let me know as soon as they got in the air.

  I wanted to talk to him and have him tell me it was going to be all right, or at least be able to hear his voice while I waited for Kari to get home, but I wasn’t going to bother him now. I knew his dad was a sore spot for Tristan, and I didn’t want to be clingy and make things worse.

  “Food, Ginny,” I scolded myself. Standing in the middle of the kitchen spacing out wasn’t helping anything. Maybe I‘d call the police, make a report or something. Even if the van had nothing to do with Brad stalking me, there were kids on the street I lived on, and it could be a kidnapper or something.

  I didn’t have the energy for anything complicated, but there were some leftover chicken Thai noodles I’d made the other night for dinner, so that would have to do. Hopefully my stomach would untwist itself long enough for me to get something down.

  I hated being nervous. My hands got so sweaty and my stomach just clenched itself up. Everything started to look threatening, and a breeze blowing leaves across my kitchen window was enough to set me jumping. Not to mention that I nearly screamed when the microwave beeped.

  “Get it together,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re okay. You’re fine. If it is Brad, it’s okay, he’s not going to hurt you.” Or so I hoped.

  I’d settled in at the table with my plate and a glass of water when the sound of the front door opening startled me. “Kari? Is that you?” Nothing. “Kari?” I called out louder, my heart pounding a mile a minute, and it took me a few seconds to swallow my panic enough to get to my feet.

  I looked around the kitchen door to see what I could see.

  And that was when all hell broke loose.

  Maybe that was an over exaggeration, but I think my front door being wide open even though I knew I’d locked it counted as something hellish. Especially when I whirled around to see Brad standing there.

  My mouth dropped open in shock. I kind of thought it was him who’d been parked in the van, but this was taking it a bit too far, even for him.

  “Hello, Gin,” he said, grinning at me as he stepped in and closed the door behind him. “You look really nice tonight.”

  What the hell?

  “Brad? What…how…how did you even get in here? Did you open my door?” I demanded, folding my arms. “What the hell do you want from me!?” I was trying so hard to keep my voice from taking on the hysterical tone that I knew it was edging towards, but my heart was racing and my hands were shaking.

  “Virginia Peterson, how can you be so naïve? I made a copy of the key you gave me when we were dating months ago. I knew it was going to come in handy someday, and look. I was right.” He stepped closer to me, and I backed up instinctively. His voice was creepy. “As for what I want, I think we both know the answer to that, don’t we, baby?”

  “Stop calling me that!” I shouted. “I don’t want anything to do with you. Get the fuck out of my house.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not letting you go, Ginny. Or should I call you dirty girl? You liked that, didn’t you?”

  “What? Liked what?” Did he know about Tristan and me? He couldn’t. Could he?

  “You’re supposed to be mine. I made a mistake, yeah, but you’re going to forgive me for that, aren’t you?” He slid
his hand around my throat, whispering in my ear, “We’re going to be together again…dirty girl.”

  “The hell we are!” I yelled as I jerked my knee up, hitting him in his nutsack. He doubled over, grabbing it — and in the process, let me go. I ran into the kitchen, slamming the door behind me and slid the table up against it, hoping it would at least hold him back a few minutes . My heart was beating so fast, I thought I might have a heart attack, and the adrenaline flowing through my veins wouldn’t let me stop to rest.

  He was in my house, and he was crazy. The door rattled up against the table, I knew I had to do something quick or he was going to hurt me. I searched for my phone to call 911 and it wasn’t there. Fuck!

  I leaned against the counter and put my head in my hands, taking several deep breaths. I felt like I was going to throw up. I didn’t know what he would do, or what he was even capable of, and I glanced over to the knives hanging on the cabinet just as the table skipped across the floor, and the door flew open.

  “Making some dinner in here?” Brad asked as he limped in, and I backed up again.

  Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.

  “Remember how you used to make all those fancy-ass dinners all the time?” he asked me. “With green shit on it for — what was that? Garnish? I miss that.” He slowly moved closer to me.

  “Why?” I retorted. “You never appreciated it before.” I looked around for something to hit him with.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you think that? It was good food. Coulda gotten it from a restaurant and saved yourself hours of work, but you were always a good cook, babe. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

  “Stop saying that. Stop calling me babe. Just stop!” I screamed.

  Brad’s eyes went to the counter when a buzzing sound echoed through the kitchen, and I swore under my breath for not finding my phone sooner.

  “Expecting a call?” He walked over and picked it up off the floor. “Oh, it’s Kari. Do you still live with that bitch? I thought you would have found a new roommate by now. Someone who was less of a fucking asshole.” He waited for the call to go to voicemail and then dropped the phone into his pocket.

  “You mean like you?” I muttered. “Kari’s not a bitch. And she’s going to be home soon, so you need to go. You don’t want to know what she’s going to do if she comes home and finds you here.”

  He snorted at that. “Oh please, I’m not scared of her. And I really don’t give a fuck if she shows up right now, anyway. So are you going to show me what a dirty, filthy girl you are?”

  That was pretty much proof he was crazy. “Why do you keep saying that? What is your fucking deal with this dirty girl shit?”

  “Who is he, Gin? This Tristan you’ve been fucking online?” He sneered. “Who the fuck is he?”

  “What? How? God, Brad are you—” I wanted to kill him.

  “Yeah, your room is bugged,” he smirked, pacing around the kitchen.

  “You fucking bugged my room, asshole? You are a sick fuck! I can’t believe you’d do that! Fuck! Like seriously, you put a fucking bug in my room? ”

  “Yeah, Gin, I did bug your room. I watch you. How does it feel to know that I’ve been watching you fucking yourself in front of the computer?” He walked over to the knives and slid one off the strip. “You know, Gin, instead of jacking off to some fuck on the computer, maybe you should have took me up on my offer to get back together? Seems more realistic doesn’t it?”

  He ran his finger down the blade, looking at it and then back at me, slowly walking toward me. “I plan to be here for a while, and I didn’t have any lunch, so…make me one of those fancy-schmancy meals you like to cook, and I’ll even do the dishes for you, you know, like I used to.”

  “Like you used to? You never helped me with one single dish when I made something. You said I was the one who decided to make all the fancy food, so I should be the one to clean it up. God, you’re an asshole!” I hesitated for a second, catching my breath. “You know, maybe you’re thinking about Helena,” I said. “Maybe you helped her in the kitchen.”

  “Don’t talk about her!” Brad snapped. “This isn’t about her!”

  “The fuck it isn’t! It was always about her! She’s the reason we’re not together anymore because apparently your dick runs the show. But I consider it a good thing that you gave me a heads up on how much of an asshole you are.”

  Brad was quiet for a minute, looking at me with an eerie calm in his eye. “Is that what you think? I’m an asshole? Is Tristan an asshole as well?”

  “You.

  Cheated.

  On.

  Me.

  You’ve been stalking me for weeks now. You’ve broken into my house, taken me hostage, now I find out my room is bugged and you’ve been watching me like a fucking psycho. What do you think I think of you?”

  He moved just a little bit closer, the knife dangling from his fingers. He dropped it as his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, yanking it painfully until I was flush against his chest. I struggled to get away from him, but he was a good eight inches taller than me and so much stronger. “Mmm, you smell so nice,” he said, nuzzling his face in my neck.

  “Get off of me!” I screamed. “Get off!”

  “Stop struggling! I’m not going to hurt you, Ginny baby. How could I ever hurt my beautiful Ginny?” He raised his hand to touch my face and I squirmed, trying to break away from him, but he was too strong.

  He slammed me against the wall near the kitchen door, using his body to pin me in place. I could feel his dick hard through his pants, and I couldn’t believe this was turning him on.

  “You’re starting to get on my nerves,” he said. “I’m just trying to tell you I love you. That’s all I’ve been trying to do since we broke up, and you don’t seem interested in hearing it.”

  I wanted to shout back that no shit, I wasn’t interested, but he had me pinned and trapped, and I was very aware of the fact that even if he didn’t want to hurt me, he still could.

  My breath was coming in short, terrified pants, and I wished to God I had worked late or stayed at the office. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t fight him off, and he had my phone. Who knew how long it was going to take Kari to get home?

  My mind was racing with a million different thoughts while Brad rambled on about how much he loved me and what a mistake he’d made. After this psycho behavior, I wondered what I’d ever seen in him. I hadn’t realized he was so emotionally unstable.

  “You’re not listening to me,” Brad accused.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but got interrupted by the sound of knocking on the front door. Brad and I both stopped and turned to look in that direction.

  “Are you expecting somebody?” he asked. “Well?”

  “N-no, but…maybe it’s Kari.”

  “Kari knocks? Who is it, Gin?” he asked, as if I would know.

  I shook my head, “Fuck! I don’t know, go answer it and see!” He was beginning to get on my nerves. I couldn’t know who was at the door any better than he could and he kept insisting.

  The knocking got louder, he seemed to be thinking about what to do when he backed up a bit. “You keep your fucking mouth shut, you hear me?”

  I nodded, and when he stepped away to go get the door, I exhaled. Screaming and running sounded good, so I took a deep breath. As soon as he reached the door, I opened my mouth to let out a yell. The voice I heard stopped me in my tracks.

  “I’m looking for Ginny Peterson. Does she live here?”

  That voice. That accent. After hearing him tell me to cum over and over again, I didn’t think I’d ever not recognize it.

  Tristan.

  End Of Book 1

  Acknowledgements

  First of all, I’d like to thank my lovely readers, y’all rock! Without you, there would be no reason for me to keep writing these books. You’re all wonderful and I so appreciate you from the bottom of my heart.

  I also want to thank my incredible Facebook fans, beta re
aders and advance copy reviewers. I appreciate all your help in making this series the success it is.

  Follow the passionate story of Tristan and Ginny in Oceans Apart — Book 2, due for release August 8, 2014.

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  About The Author

  Amanda Heartley is a writer of sinfully sexy romance books. She was born and raised in Oklahoma and subsequently transplanted into the hustle and bustle of life in Southern California. She's a country girl at heart with an insatiable weakness for sexy men and feisty women. Her first erotic series was published in July 2013.

  At home, she plays Mom, chef, ninja, taxi, and nurse hanging out with her four wonderful children and three loveable mutts.

  You can find her drinking a green smoothie, relaxing in the back yard, writing another steamy story.

  If you enjoyed reading this book, please recommend it, review it and ask your friends to download their own copy.

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