Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Since she had walked out of my house, I’d been obsessed with watching her location, reading her texts, and listening to the recordings of her phone calls. Anything to have a piece of her. Wishing more than once I’d been able to keep her longer. That my soul hadn’t been on the line and I could have enjoyed her. But I couldn’t. All it had taken was that one time, and I’d known that she was different. I wanted her in a way I’d never wanted anything. But I also knew I would break her in the end, and the idea of that was more painful than letting her go.
The monster under the surface battled me daily. Demanding to see her. Needing to be close to her. She’d stirred him to life, and I couldn’t seem to put him back where he had come from. My moods were getting more violent. My thirst for blood had increased. Those closest to me were staying out of my way. I was going to have to find a way to be close to her and not affect her. She couldn’t see me. But if I didn’t see her soon, I wasn’t sure anyone was going to be safe.
Setting my glass down, I stood up. She was taking the job, getting the life Harland had taken from her. I’d hoped that news would calm me some, but it hadn’t touched the rage clawing in my chest. I had to see her. Even if it was to watch her sleep. Just a moment to be near her. She never had to know.
It would have been better, safer, if I’d only watched her from the hotel across the street. But that was no longer enough. I knew her now. She wasn’t a stranger I was stalking. She’d become a compulsion or fucking addiction. I wasn’t real damn sure what had happened to me when I was inside her. But whatever it was, I wasn’t the same. Time spent away from her wasn’t making me forget. The memory wasn’t fading. Daily, it got stronger.
My sons were keeping their distance. Linc had even left me alone. My tolerance with life in general had been zero. Everything set me off. I lived on edge. Ready to start ripping things apart at any moment.
The scent that hit me as I stepped into her apartment was sweet balm to the insanity controlling me. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes for a moment. Fuck, that was good. This was what I needed. This was how I could gain control of my life again. I just had to see her. Be near her. Without damaging her the way I had Lethia.
Silently, I moved through the living room to the open door that I knew led to her bedroom. She was in there. I was so close.
Fifty-Three
Bay
Slipping off my heels, I sighed in relief and headed toward the kitchen. Today had been my last day as a flight attendant. I’d put in my two weeks’ notice after going to Atlanta to meet with the agency partners at Baskton Marketing.
They had been amazing and excited about my coming to work for them. I was taken to dinner at an expensive rooftop restaurant, put up in a five-star hotel, and treated as if I were royalty. It all seemed too good to be true, but all the research I had done on them came back positive. They’d been in business for over fifty years with massive companies and corporations as their clients.
It was hard to wrap my head around. Being given everything you thought you wanted and realizing it wasn’t your key to happiness wasn’t easy to accept. I’d found that I was more depressed than I’d ever been. The only moment of hope that had soared in me was when I saw Carver’s Bootleg Whiskey among Baskton’s client list. There was a connection to Hale, and it made sense. The job offer—Belinda and Reggie had been thrilled to hear about it, but neither of them had heard of the company. In the end, there was only one person I knew who could have made the call that got me this job.
But after weeks of not hearing from him, no contact at all, I had to accept this was his payoff. The sorry I abducted you wrongfully, fucked you, then sent you packing apology. There had been a part of me that didn’t want to take it because of that. What it was. The other part wanted it because I’d have a chance of seeing him again, however slim it may be. I knew it was weak and pathetic. The man had gotten what he wanted, and it clearly hadn’t been what he had hoped so he got rid of me. The pang in my chest wasn’t new. I’d learned to live with it the way people learned to live with indigestion.