Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2) (12 page)

BOOK: Chasing Bristol (The Finding Trilogy Book 2)
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“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.”

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