Read The Stalker Chronicles Online

Authors: Electa Rome Parks

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Urban Life, #African American

The Stalker Chronicles (13 page)

BOOK: The Stalker Chronicles
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Chapter 25
Xavier
As soon as I stepped into the foyer of my home and turned off my security alarm, I instantly sensed something wasn't quite right. I couldn't place my finger on it at that moment, but my senses were telling me something was amiss. The fine hairs on my arms were literally standing up at attention.
I had returned from three hours of writing at my favorite Starbucks. I hadn't gone out and written at a public venue in a while, mainly because I was now recognizable, and fans would come up and ask for an autograph or photo, or stare and point at me, or both. I always felt like I was on display. And let's not forget the aspiring writers who wanted advice, or wanted you to take a look at a manuscript they just happened to have with them. And then there were those who wanted to talk your ear off about how to get published yet hadn't written one single word. All of this was distracting when a writer was trying to get focused and drawn into his characters' thoughts, feelings, and actions. It seriously fucked up my creative flow.
Then, after the entire “Pilar, the Stalker” story broke, I simply didn't like the crowds, because I didn't know if they loved or hated me. I experienced both back then. There didn't appear to be an in-between. When the story first broke that a “bestselling author had assaulted his alleged mistress,” all hell broke loose. Readers and book clubs boycotted my backlist titles, took sides, and assumed everything the media reported was fact. The media outlets had a field day reporting every little development.
I came across looking like the evil villain, while the mysterious Pilar was a victim of circumstance, taken advantage of by a womanizing man. That was such bullshit, but I was wading, almost drowning, waist deep in it back then.
Back at home, I wandered into the living room, where everything appeared to be in order. Near my staircase, I vaguely smelled a woman's perfume. The scent was light, soft, and flowery. I had smelled it before. It was the same fragrance Pilar wore. I looked around cautiously, searching out items, sounds, and movement within fifty feet of where I suddenly stood frozen.
I laughed out loud to myself when I caught my reflection in a large gold-plated mirror across from the stairs that led to a lower level. I looked frazzled and unnerved and frightened.
“This is fucking ridiculous. What am I doing? I'm letting my imagination get the better of me.”
I shook my head and walked into the kitchen. I wasn't ready to venture upstairs, not just yet. Instead, I poured myself a glass of orange juice, gulped it down, and thought about how crazy I was acting. I was jumping at shadows and imagining phantom smells. Maybe I did need to talk with a professional.
After placing my empty glass in the sink, I slowly made my way upstairs and entered my bedroom, cautiously looked around. Nothing. All was quiet, and I exhaled, breathed a huge sigh of relief.
I took a few steps farther into my bedroom, and then I saw it. Was I being paranoid? There was a small dent in the comforter on the side of my bed, the side I slept on. It looked like someone had sat down on the edge; the comforter was dented in only one spot. I tried to think back. Did I sit back down on the bed after I made it up? I didn't think so. Plus, the imprint was small, more like one a woman would leave.
I literally stood staring at it for a bit longer, bugging out, willing it to go away. It didn't. I found myself slipping my hand under the mattress, searching. I was searching for underwear, women's panties, to be exact. When I was dealing with Pilar, she actually left a pair of her panties underneath my mattress and told my fiancée where to find them as proof that we had been sexing in my bed. Other than my countless lies, infidelity, and betrayal, Kendall finding the cum-stained panties was the last straw for her. The ironic thing was that I had never had sex with Pilar in
my
bed; she had deliberately planted the panties.
I finally convinced myself I had sat on the bed before I left for Starbucks. That had to be the only logical explanation. My house was locked up tighter than a maximum-security prison. There was no way in hell anyone could get in and out. The other alternative was something I didn't want to think about or even consider.
Earlier, after writing for a few hours at Starbucks, I decided to stop by Panera Bread for lunch before returning home. I had my usual sandwich and soup. I now felt the need to brush my teeth, and while I was thinking about it, a hot shower would be nice, too. I needed to clear my mind and refocus. I hated myself when I started thinking of Pilar out of the blue. I guessed now that I thought about it, it really wasn't randomly. My thoughts of her were always triggered by something—a smell, a laugh, a song, a woman's hairstyle or certain smile. At any time, any of those things took me back in time. Each time I would snap out of it a bit flustered by my reaction to the memory.
I strolled into the bathroom buck naked and stopped dead in my tracks. Lying on top of the counter, near the sink, was my toothbrush. There was no way in hell I left it out like that. First of all, I brushed my teeth that morning, and after finishing up, my normal routine was to rinse my toothbrush off and place it back in the toothbrush holder.
Think. Think. Think.
Was I distracted this morning? Did my cell ring? Did anything happen to make me forget to put it back?
Oh, yeah. Dre' called to tell me about his date. I swear the man had reverted to a lovesick teenager. This woman, this Milan, had his nose wide open. I had known Dre' all my life, had survived marriages and breakups right beside him, and I had never seen him this infatuated.
I turned on the shower and adjusted the water to as hot as I could take it. I slipped in and lathered up my washcloth with my favorite shower gel and submerged my face underneath the water. I was pleased that the mystery had been solved, and I took my time with my shower. I enjoyed the feel of the hot water coursing down my tense body, combined with the exotic, musky smell of the shower gel. Kendall had gotten me into using this product, and now I couldn't go without it. Plus, the smell of it brought back memories of Kendall and me making love in the shower on numerous occasions.
Just as I turned off the water, stepped out, and reached for my towel, it hit me. Dre' did call, but I picked up the call as I was walking down the steps. There was no way I was distracted in the bathroom.
All thoughts of the mysterious toothbrush dissipated when I heard the familiar sound indicating I had a text message.
Hi. Just wanted to say hello. Hope your day is going well.
 
Still in the nude, I quickly texted back.
Kendall, what are you doing?
 
Nothing. Just seeing how you were doing. Talk soon.
I walked downstairs, with an even bigger mystery to solve. What was going on with Kendall? She had made it perfectly clear at our lunch that she was happily married. She had accepted my apology, received her closure, and lunch had ended with her moving on to live her life happily ever after. I was to live my own life, separate from and independent of hers. End of story.
Now I had received this text. Kendall wasn't the type to sneak around. Her commitments were strong and true. She had dumped me like a hot potato once she found out I had cheated on her. Could she possibly want me back, or was the good doctor not throwing down the way she had grown accustomed to with me? All these questions and many more bombarded my thoughts. If I hadn't been so occupied with thoughts of Kendall, I would have noticed the clothes hanger in the back of my closet suddenly swinging back and forth. I also might have noticed the dark shadow as it silently crept beneath my bed to lie in wait until nighttime fell hours later—lying beneath me as I slept unknowingly throughout the night.
Chapter 26
Kendall
Kendall casually strolled to her silver metallic Mercedes in the covered parking garage. Life was good. She had a wonderful, successful husband who doted on her and answered to her every whim. She had a great budding career as an attorney, one she had always dreamed of; and she lived in the home of her childhood dreams, in an exclusive neighborhood; and, well, yes, life was good.
The only thing missing, she couldn't have, or could she? Kendall pondered that question as she pushed the UNLOCK button on the key to her luxury car. She had had a good workout with her personal trainer, Phil. He was tough, always pushing her to reach her full potential. She hated him sometimes, but he was one of the best, and she could afford the best. Kendall realized most people who knew her viewed her as a diva. She accepted the title as an honor. There was nothing wrong with wanting the best life had to offer.
Kendall hummed an unrecognizable tune and smiled to herself as she closed the distance to her car. She still couldn't believe she had sent a text to Xavier. She didn't know what she was thinking, but she definitely realized what the consequences would be if her husband ever found out. Kendall knew this was totally out of character for her, but seeing Xavier again had confused her. Seeing Xavier had unleashed a desire that shocked her with its strength.
Could she have it all? Was it possible to have a great career, a fabulous house, a wealthy husband, and a skilled lover on the side? She didn't even know, didn't know if she was willing to go that far to find out. For now, she simply knew she had to see Xavier again. Seeing him at the restaurant had brought back feelings she thought were under wraps.
As soon as she climbed behind the wheel and locked her door, she felt his presence before she actually saw him. She instantly froze with fright.
“If you know what's good for you, I wouldn't turn around, Kendall,” the male presence in the backseat stated in a frightening, calm voice. This was right before he placed a huge steel knife tip against the artery of her neck. He wasn't nervous or in a hurry. She reasoned that this wasn't new to him.
“How do you know my name?” she asked. Looking back later, she would think,
What a silly question to ask.
“It doesn't matter. Let's just say we have a mutual acquaintance.”
“What do you want? Please don't hurt me. I have money. Credit cards. They're in my purse. Take it. Take all of it,” she said, attempting to turn around, fumbling with her oversize bag.
“Didn't I tell you not to turn around? Seeing my face would be a huge mistake,” he screamed, pushing the tip of the blade deeper into her fragile neck, near the pulsating vein.
Kendall silently commanded herself to remain calm. For some reason, she felt a need to keep him talking. Focusing in front of her, she tried to determine if there was an escape route. She knew from statistics that she couldn't drive away with him. Even if she had to crash the car, she couldn't allow him to take her from this location. Kendall looked around to see if anyone was in the parking garage, someone she could scream to for help. She wondered if she could outrun him; it would take only a second to open the car door and jump out. Her eyes traveled to the car horn, inches from her fingers.
As if sensing her next move, the dark presence said, in a chilling voice, “If you blow that horn, bitch, that'll be the last thing you do. I guarantee it. Do you understand, bitch?”
Kendall frantically nodded and tried her best to will the tears from forming. She had to remain calm and remember the details. She couldn't get emotional and weak.
“What do you want from me? My husband is expecting me, and if I don't arrive home soon, he'll come looking for me. He knows I'm here.”
“I have a message to deliver.”
“What? A message? From who?” she muttered behind tears that threatened to spill.
“You don't need to know all that. You need to shut up, listen, and listen good.”
“Okay.”
“Stay the fuck away from Xavier Preston.”
“What?”
“You heard me the first time, bitch. Stay away from him. Don't call him. Don't text him. Don't meet him for lunch. Stay away. Plain and simple.”
She was shocked into silence. It was apparent someone had been watching her. Chills instantly went up and down her spine. She was angry at herself for putting herself in this position by meeting with Xavier. She should have followed her first instinct and let it be.
“You wouldn't want your surgeon hubby to find out you're trying to seek out some new dick, would you?”
“Don't,” she said, pulling away from his thick fingers, fingers that were now feeling her up, caressing her breasts and nipples through the sheer fabric of her workout outfit. “No.”
“What? I'm not good enough to touch you?” He laughed. “Stuck-up bitch.”
“Please, stop!”
“Hmmm, you smell good,” he said, leaning his nose into her hair. “Good enough to eat.”
With those words, he felt her body stiffen. He managed to get her sports bra unsnapped and now freely tweaked her nipples and played with her breasts.
Kendall started to cry, making whimpering sounds.
“Is this what you wanted that nigga Xavier to do to you?” he asked, leaning forward as his right hand traveled to a place between her legs. He had moved the knife to his left hand, the tip still against her tender neck. He kissed her neck and ran his thick, moist tongue over her ear, sticking the tip in and making wet, icky sounds.
“I asked you a question, bitch. Is this what you wanted?”
She frantically shook her head from side to side.
He laughed a bitter, cruel, evil laugh. “I believe you're lying. You were going to give him some pussy while your poor husband was operating on a poor soul, none the wiser.”
Kendall whimpered louder, not believing this was happening to her. A scream was stuck deep in her throat.
“Shhh. Isn't that right? Open your legs, bitch. Wider.”
Kendall slowly obliged, with help from the male presence. He stuck his entire hand down her pants and pushed her thong aside and then drove two fingers deep into her womanhood.
“Damn. You are about to make me bust a nut up in here. I have never played in any rich pussy before. Ohhh, you feel good,” he said, breathing heavily now and talking in a raspy voice that made her cringe with disgust.
Kendall, despite her best effort, couldn't recoil far enough from his touch.
“Keep those legs wide open, or I'll cut that pretty face up so good that no one will recognize you, not even your own mama.”
She placed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming as he eagerly went in and out of her with his thick fingers. He didn't show any mercy.
“Tell me it feels good.”
She hesitated.
“Say it, bitch.”
“It feels good,” she spat between clenched teeth.
“Good girl. Now, what are you supposed to do so I won't have to pay you another visit? Because make no mistake, I will. And next time, you best believe it won't be my fingers up in that sweet stuff. You ain't ever been with a real nigga before, and it would be my pleasure to teach you the ropes and break you in,” he said, moving his finger in and out of her ever so slowly. He was enjoying her distress.
“Stay away from Xavier,” she managed to whisper.
“Good girl. What else?” he asked, breathing heavily down her neck, still fingering her.
Kendall tensed again, looking confused.
“You are not to tell anyone about this conversation. That means the police, Xavier, and the good surgeon. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said, barely audible.
“I can't hear you, bitch.”
Kendall nodded.
“I need to hear you say it so I can be clear that we have an understanding.”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm, you feel so damn good. Look at you. Getting all wet. See, I knew you liked me. Bounce up and down on my fingers.”
Kendall hesitated, and he pressed the tip of the knife deeper.
“That's it. Act like those fingers are your husband's dick or, better yet, Xavier's. You are one lucky bitch, because if I didn't have you out here, you would definitely be getting a taste of my dick. I'd be tearing up that stuff right about now.”
“Please stop!”
He whispered into her ear. “Remember, I know everything about you. I know where you live, work, and even where you go to church. Go back to being a faithful, good Christian wife and live happily after ever. That way you never have to see me again.”
He thrust his meaty fingers into her a few more times; it was obvious he was deriving great pleasure out of the entire situation, her discomfort and terror.
“Moan for me.”
Kendall proceeded to moan as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her. To her surprise, he reached around the back of her and stuck a finger into her anus.
“Ahhh,” she screamed as he inserted it back and forth, again and again, stretching it open.
“Shut up. Grab that wheel with your hands, lean over, and push that ass up. You blow that horn, I'll hurt you. Hurt you bad.”
“Please don't! Stop!”
“Now!”
Kendall did as he commanded.
She leaned over, raised her ass from the seat, and he snatched her pants down, along with her thong. He continued to assault her anus with his finger and then another finger.
“That's definitely a virgin hole. Tight. Tight. Tight. Moan, bitch,” he said, smacking the back of her ass with his rough, callous hand a couple of times.
In between cries, she moaned for him. He had the nerve to lay the knife on the seat beside him, knowing she was too afraid to do anything foolish by this time. He had a finger of his right hand inserted in her vagina, and a finger of his left inside her anus, moving them simultaneously. Occasionally, he'd take his finger out of her anus to squeeze her nipples until she cried out in pain. She knew he enjoyed her pain, got off on it. She also knew he was capable of anything.
Suddenly, as quickly as it had started, he pulled away and opened the back door without warning.
“Remember what I said. Don't be stupid. You have been warned.”
With that he was gone in a flash. The entire incident had lasted less than fifteen minutes. Kendall pulled her pants back up, rested her head against the steering wheel, and bawled like a baby. Much later, she composed herself enough to drive home. With shaky hands, she turned on the engine, placed it in drive, and drove away. Besides being afraid, she knew she could never tell anyone about what happened, especially not her new husband.
BOOK: The Stalker Chronicles
8.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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