has to be a bad dream, but I know it’s not. As much as I want to wake up and find none of this is real, I need to face up to the reality: Conrad is my stalker.
My hand flies to my mouth. I feel sick and so violated. I’m struggling to my feet to rush to the bathroom when I hear the telltale click of the front door. Oh fuck. What the hell am I going to do now? One look at me and he’ll know I know. God knows what he’ll do to me.
Panicking, I run to the bathroom and close the door, pressing my weight against the back of it. I listen as his footsteps get closer, ignoring his calls for where I am. I close my eyes and focus on breathing.
“Raven, let me in.”
I close my eyes as he pounds on the door, his voice becoming more urgent. I clap my hand over my mouth, trying not to scream. Why didn’t I bring my phone?
“Rave, I’m going to have to break the door down if you won’t let me in.” His voice has softened. He almost sounds like he feels sorry for me.
Sliding down the door, I sit on the floor, clutching my stomach. I have no idea how to get myself out of this mess, but what upsets me more is how angry I am that he lied to me.
“I know you know. I need a chance to explain.”
Explain? As if there is anything he could say to fix this.
“If you want a chance to explain, I need you to give me some space, Conrad. I can’t handle hearing whatever it is you have to say to me right now.”
He sighs, the sound of his fists connecting with the door making me jump.
I spy the open window on the far side of the room and carefully get to my feet. All I know is I can’t face him right now. With every step I hold my breath until I reach the window. I breathe out as I frantically climb through the small space while listening to him talking to me through the door.
I storm down the fire escape, not sure about where to go from here. I need to think. Running around to the main road, I hail a cab and ask the driver to take me to work. I can’t go home and I have nowhere else.
At least this way if he comes after me I won’t be alone.
Chapter Twelve
Work is the last place I want to be, but the only place I can be.
I’m disgusted at what he’s done, but what messes with me even more is that I haven’t reported him. I try and tell myself that I’m still in shock, and once I process everything that’s happened I’ll call the police, but I can’t even convince myself.
I don’t want the police involved because I’m hoping there is a small chance that we can work this out. At the very least, I alerted security about him and requested he not be allowed in the club. That way I can figure this out knowing I’m safe from running into him. I sigh and rub my temples, frustrated with myself. How can I be into someone who has done what he’s done? What kind of person does that make me?
I trudge around the club, barely able to keep my mind on doing my job. I arrived pretending I thought I was scheduled, and by coincidence someone had called in sick. I’m probably not in the right frame of mind to be working, but it’s a distraction. A permanent frown is fixed to my face, except when my managers walk by and I plaster on a smile. I feel like I’ve been here for hours, but the reality is my shift isn’t even half over.
People filter in and out of the VIP rooms, which I’ve been assigned to cover for the night. It’s taken to this point for me not to jump at every little sound, convinced it’s him and he has somehow gotten in. I’m finally calming down, though I’m far from being okay.
This whole time it was him. He was always there, watching me. He befriended me and let me believe he was someone else. Yet, in spite all of that, I’m not sure I’m ready to let him go. I let out a laugh, which earns me an odd look from a passing member. I’m completely fucked up. The guy I’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks couldn’t have been a complete lie. But
My hand flies to my mouth. I feel sick and so violated. I’m struggling to my feet to rush to the bathroom when I hear the telltale click of the front door. Oh fuck. What the hell am I going to do now? One look at me and he’ll know I know. God knows what he’ll do to me.
Panicking, I run to the bathroom and close the door, pressing my weight against the back of it. I listen as his footsteps get closer, ignoring his calls for where I am. I close my eyes and focus on breathing.
“Raven, let me in.”
I close my eyes as he pounds on the door, his voice becoming more urgent. I clap my hand over my mouth, trying not to scream. Why didn’t I bring my phone?
“Rave, I’m going to have to break the door down if you won’t let me in.” His voice has softened. He almost sounds like he feels sorry for me.
Sliding down the door, I sit on the floor, clutching my stomach. I have no idea how to get myself out of this mess, but what upsets me more is how angry I am that he lied to me.
“I know you know. I need a chance to explain.”
Explain? As if there is anything he could say to fix this.
“If you want a chance to explain, I need you to give me some space, Conrad. I can’t handle hearing whatever it is you have to say to me right now.”
He sighs, the sound of his fists connecting with the door making me jump.
I spy the open window on the far side of the room and carefully get to my feet. All I know is I can’t face him right now. With every step I hold my breath until I reach the window. I breathe out as I frantically climb through the small space while listening to him talking to me through the door.
I storm down the fire escape, not sure about where to go from here. I need to think. Running around to the main road, I hail a cab and ask the driver to take me to work. I can’t go home and I have nowhere else.
At least this way if he comes after me I won’t be alone.
Chapter Twelve
Work is the last place I want to be, but the only place I can be.
I’m disgusted at what he’s done, but what messes with me even more is that I haven’t reported him. I try and tell myself that I’m still in shock, and once I process everything that’s happened I’ll call the police, but I can’t even convince myself.
I don’t want the police involved because I’m hoping there is a small chance that we can work this out. At the very least, I alerted security about him and requested he not be allowed in the club. That way I can figure this out knowing I’m safe from running into him. I sigh and rub my temples, frustrated with myself. How can I be into someone who has done what he’s done? What kind of person does that make me?
I trudge around the club, barely able to keep my mind on doing my job. I arrived pretending I thought I was scheduled, and by coincidence someone had called in sick. I’m probably not in the right frame of mind to be working, but it’s a distraction. A permanent frown is fixed to my face, except when my managers walk by and I plaster on a smile. I feel like I’ve been here for hours, but the reality is my shift isn’t even half over.
People filter in and out of the VIP rooms, which I’ve been assigned to cover for the night. It’s taken to this point for me not to jump at every little sound, convinced it’s him and he has somehow gotten in. I’m finally calming down, though I’m far from being okay.
This whole time it was him. He was always there, watching me. He befriended me and let me believe he was someone else. Yet, in spite all of that, I’m not sure I’m ready to let him go. I let out a laugh, which earns me an odd look from a passing member. I’m completely fucked up. The guy I’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks couldn’t have been a complete lie. But
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