Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
This is sick. Conrad is demented.
I would never have expected this kind of lunatic behavior from a former Marine. Then again, how do I know Conrad even is a former Marine? He could have been lying about that too. And what about that incident with Barry back at the manor? Did he orchestrate that whole thing just to keep anyone from suspecting him?
I’m sick to my stomach as I order a ride on my phone while I continue to run. I put Police Headquarters under the destination. I have to report this maniac before it’s too late. Before he’s able to take cover, or go dark, or whatever terminology they use in the Marines to indicate that he’ll be impossible to find and apprehend. Which in turn means I’ll have to spend the rest of my life in constant fear, cowering behind alarm systems and locked doors, wondering when he’ll reappear and what he’ll do to me.
I reach my pickup spot and hide myself in the shadows of a pizzeria, watching my ride approaching on the map on my phone. The seconds tick by painfully as I glance around, panicked that at any moment, Conrad will appear out of the black, racing after me. And I would be helpless against him. His strength, his speed, his prowess. I simply can’t compare.
I’m debating calling 9-1-1 when my ride arrives. I leap out of the darkness, nearly twisting my ankle in the process, and leap into the backseat of the sedan.
“Um, are you…Belle?” the man asks.
“Yes, yes! I need you to drive, please. Now!”
I’m quivering as the man throws me a questioning glance in the rearview mirror, then pulls away from the curb and drives off into the night.
“Take it from me…We like girls who know what they’re doing. If a girl doesn’t know how to please her husband, how long do you think that marriage will last?”
That’s what Conrad said to me as he manipulated me and convinced me that somehow, he was doing me a favor by getting me ready to be with my future husband, when in reality he was just tricking me to get in my pants. And I fell for it! I basically gave myself away to him like a tourist handing their passport to a scammer on the streets, only to never get it back again. And yet, I still can’t think about our moments together without a tingling sensation returning between my legs. Conrad introduced me to things I knew nothing about. He changed me.
And the entire time, he was lying to me.
He called in a bomb threat to stop my wedding. And he must have broken into my house too if he knew the color of my pillowcase. Who knows what else he’s been up to.
Conrad is a stalker. And now I’m on the way to the police station to report him.
“Almost there,” my driver says to me cautiously, as though I’m the twisted one. Sure, maybe I was behaving a bit erratically when I dove into the back seat like I was escaping a war zone, but if he only knew what was really going on and causing me to behave like a wild woman.
I’m fidgeting with my fingernails as he pulls up in front of the station. I can see a male officer sitting at the desk behind a sheet of glass, scrolling through his phone, a bored look on his face.
Get out, Belle. Go report the son of a bitch before he has a chance to escape!
I’m shaking like I’ve been out in the freezing cold for hours, and yet there’s still something stopping me from getting out of the car and racing up the steps to the uniformed man. But why? It’s not like Conrad and I have known each other for decades and I finally just discovered some awful truth about him. It’s only been weeks since we first met, and a couple days since things got really…personal.
So why am I hesitant? Why am I thinking back to what happened in the back kitchen at the manor? To how assertive he was with me, how strong he was when he held me in his arms? Why, at the same time that I’m thinking about leaving him, am I thinking about my life with him?
The man is a stalker! An unhinged liar!
It’s impossible for me to know what else he’s done and hasn’t told me about. And I want to know it all. All there is to know about him. He could have chosen any girl to do this to, but he chose me.
“Listen, girl, you gotta get out of my car now,” the driver says, clearly annoyed. “Or order another ride.”
“If you could just give me a second–”
“Out!” he shouts, shoving the rear passenger door open. “Now!”
“Okay, okay,” I mutter, dragging myself across the seat and stepping out onto the curb. Without a second’s hesitation, the man snatches his door shut and speeds off, leaving me standing beneath the cold blue of a street light, my eyes on the police station.