The Impostor, A Love Story (38 page)

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Authors: Tiffany Carmouche

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #friendship, #suspense, #inspirational, #love story, #serial killer, #contemporary, #artist, #sensual, #stalker, #survival, #alaska, #single mom, #adventures, #alaska adventure, #new beginning, #new adult, #adult and young adult, #adult fiction book series, #rediscovers self

BOOK: The Impostor, A Love Story
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“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.” He leaned over
the bar. “Barbara, I need you to do a favor for me.”

“What is it, Brad?”

“See that guy over there? I need you to
distract him for at least fifteen minutes.”

“That guy over there?”

“Don’t point. Don’t make it obvious.”

“Nicole, you need to take my truck and get
out of here,” he said, pouring me drinks so we didn’t look alarmed.
“Leave your car here. He will think you are in the bathroom or
something.” He discreetly handed me his keys.

“How will you get home?”

“By cab. I’ll leave your car here, since he’s
obviously keeping an eye out for it. I’ll be fine. I’ll radio Pete
to walk you to my car and make sure Steve doesn’t follow you. Act
like you’re still passing out drinks until the moment right before
you walk out the door.”

“I’m really scared.”

“I’ll get there as soon as I can, or I’ll
send someone to be with you. Call me when you are home safe.” I was
so nervous. I was trying to not show the terror I felt. I gave
people drinks as I focused on the door out of the corner of my
eye.

I began walking out the door and someone came
up to me.

“Can I have two beers please?”
Leave me
alone
, I thought.
Do not draw attention to me here at the
door
. I walked away from the door so it wouldn’t seem like I
was leaving.

“Can we have two shots?”

I looked at Bradley. He gave me a nod like
“Get the hell out of here.” That’s when I saw him. Steve dodged
people as he moved toward me in the crowd.
What do I do? What
can I do
?

“Pete, that’s him. I’m scared.”

“Go into the employee’s bathroom. I’ll handle
this.”

Pete was huge. I was safe, but I was trapped
in the bathroom—only 100 feet from the exit. I searched the stall
for something that would help me disguise myself. I found
sunglasses, a scarf, and hooded jacket. I gently creaked open the
door.

Pete motioned to me to get out so I rushed
with him outside, making my way to Brad’s truck.

“Go! Hurry home, and do not stop the truck
for anyone.” I rolled up the window, stepped on the gas, and drove
out of the parking lot. I was shaking. I saw someone out of my
peripheral vision come out of the bar quickly. I didn’t look back
to verify if it was him or not. I scanned the rearview mirror, but
it didn’t seem like anyone was following me. When I got to Brad’s
house, I ran inside and locked the door. Frantically, I began
closing all of the blinds so no one could see into the windows and
dialed the club.

“I’m home, Bradley.”

“Good. He’s still here, so you are safe. He
went outside a few times, but saw the car was there and returned. I
think he’s waiting for you to get off work. I called the police.
When they arrest him, you won’t have to worry anymore.” We hung up
the phone.

I sat in the house. Alone. I turned so I
could see the clock. Time seemed to stand still. It had only been
twenty minutes, but it felt like a decade. The phone rang. I
jumped. Hoping it was Bradley, I answered it.

“He was sitting at a table trying to blend in
when the police picked him up and smashed him against the wall.
They handcuffed him. You are finally safe.”

“Finally! Oh my god, finally! Bradley, can
you please come home soon? I know it’s safe, but I really don’t
want to be alone.”

“I’ll ask Pete to close up for me
tonight.”

 

I heard the keys at the front door. My mind
was instantly transported to the week before when we were trapped
in Steve’s house. Almost in shock, I curled up in a little ball on
the couch. The door opened. It was Bradley. He rushed over to
me.

“Are you okay? Oh my god, I was so worried
about you.”

I was shaking, reliving the fear.

“You are safe now.” Sitting next to me, he
put his arms around me and held me tight. “They arrested him. You
are finally safe.” He rubbed my back, “You have nothing to worry
about anymore.”

He gently put my head on his shoulder and
kissed my forehead. He was warm. I closed my eyes, wrapped in his
arms.

“I’m here now. You are safe. Why don’t you
get some sleep?”

“Can I stay here for just a minute?” I didn’t
want to move. I just wanted him to hold me.

“Of course you can, as long as you need
to.”

He kissed my forehead one more time and held
me until I was no longer quivering. I didn’t want to be alone. I
was a little afraid to go to the guest room by myself. I wished I
could stay on the couch in his arms but realized there was no way
Dylan would understand that I wanted to be in the arms of someone
else. I wasn’t sure I understood it, either.

I hadn’t talked to Dylan since he returned to
the Slope. It had been almost a month. I had no way to contact him.
I missed him. I really missed him.

“Why hasn’t he called me, Bradley? Why hasn’t
Dylan called?”

“I don’t know, Nikki. I just know that if you
were my girl, I never would have been able to leave you in the
first place.”

“Do you think he doesn’t love me
anymore?”

He paused for a moment, perhaps to tell me
Dylan had moved on. He stared into my eyes. “Nikki . . .” He paused
again, taking a deep breath. “I am sure he still loves you. How
could he not?”

I wanted to believe it. I realized that I
could screw everything up because Brad’s arms were so comforting
and I was scared to be alone.

“I better go to bed, Bradley. Dylan wouldn’t
understand if I spent the night in your arms.”

“Yeah…” He nodded. “I think that is a good
idea. If you are too shaken up to go to work tomorrow--”

“No, I definitely want to go in. The
alternative is to stay here alone. That is not happening.”

“If you need me to take off work, I
will.”

“You already have done too much. You have
been such a great friend.” I leaned over and kissed him on the
check. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Nikki.” He walked out the room
and closed the door.

I couldn’t sleep. Searching through my stuff,
I found the red
negligee
Dylan
bought me. I put it on, looking in the mirror. Touching the silk, I
figured wearing it would help me dream of him.

 

Chapter Forty-seven

 

The next day, I woke up to the ringing of the
phone. I stayed in bed. It felt so good under the covers.

“Yeah, she is here. She’s doing fine. She had
a little situation where she was staying and figured it wasn’t
safe, so I’m letting her stay here until things get a little
better. I’ll let her tell you about it when you talk to her. She’s
sleeping right now. Do you want me to wake her? Okay, call back
soon. I know she would like to hear from you. No problem. Talk to
you later.”

It dawned on me that he was probably talking
to Dylan. I ran out of the room.

“Was that Dylan?”

Bradley just stared at me.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Was that
Dylan?”

Bradley examined me from head to toe,
smiling. “I have to say, if I knew you were in the next room
wearing that, I would have insisted on protecting you all night.
Damn.”

“Shut up, Bradley.”

“You do look pretty sexy, I have to say.”

“Bradley!” I picked up a pillow from the
couch and threw it at him.

“If he calls, I’m going to tell him that one
is my favorite.”

“You are such an instigator. I was just
trying to hurry to get the phone.”

“I think secretly you want to torment me.” He
laughed. “Go get dressed or I’ll have to—”

“Stop!” I ran into my room as he pelted me
with the pillows I had thrown at him.

I really wasn’t thinking when I left the room
that I was in a red lace and silk
negligee
that was much too low cut in the front
and much too short. I closed the door, asking Bradley a hundred
questions through the door as I combed my hair and brushed my
teeth. Then I searched through my bag for something to wear.

“How did he sound?”

“He said he missed you, but I can’t for the
life of me figure out why.”

“Is he okay?”

“Nicole, I don’t know why I said that. It
wasn’t Dylan. It was Carl from work. He heard you were staying with
me and—”

“Dylan didn’t call?”

“He will call soon. I’m sure he just doesn’t
know where to call.”

Disappointed, I sat on my bed. I was about to
take off my negligee and put on some real clothes, when the phone
rang. Praying it was Dylan, I grabbed the sheet off the bed to
cover myself up as I ran out the room.

“Can I get it?”

“Sure. If it’s Dylan, don’t act too mushy
now. I don’t want to hear it.”

I ran to the phone and lifted the
receiver.

“Dylan?”

“Bitch, you are dead. You hear me? You are
dead, little whore. You are next.”

I dropped the phone receiver. The sheet fell
to the floor. How did he know where I was? I began shaking, turning
ghostly white. I slid to the floor in the comfort of my little
ball.

Bradley ran over to me. “What happened? Are
you okay? What is it?”

I couldn’t speak.

“Nicole, what happened?”

“It was him.” I gasped, rocking back and
forth holding my stomach. “It was Steve. How does he know I am
here?” I looked up at Bradley, “Bradley, he knows where I am.”

Tears poured from my eyes. I couldn’t help
myself. My heart was racing.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He squatted down beside
me.

“How does he know where I am? Isn’t he in
prison?”

Brad brushed my hair from my face—my hair now
dampened with tears.

“Who knows you’re here? Maybe someone at the
club didn’t realize who he was and told him. Or maybe he found your
address book. I’ll change the phone number today.”

“He said he was going to kill me, Bradley.
He’s gonna kill me.”

“I won’t let that happen. I promise.” He
kissed my forehead. “It’s gonna be okay. He’s still in jail. There
is no way he could have gotten out already. You are safe. He’s just
trying to scare you. I don’t know how he made the call, but he’s in
jail. I saw the police arrest him last night.” Brad slowly lifted
me to my feet and helped me to the bed.

He left the room, returning with a sleeping
pill to help me rest. I had been having nightmares and not getting
any sleep. He knew Steve was locked up and I was safe for now, so
it was a good time for me to sleep. Perhaps it would relieve some
of my anxiety.

He handed me the sleeping pill and started to
walk out the door.

“Bradley,” I asked timidly. “Don’t leave.” I
grabbed his hand.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t leave me.” He sat down on the bed next
to me, putting his arm around me. I laid my head on his shoulder,
resting my hand on his chest. He saved my life. My fingertips
gently grazed his skin, beginning to mistake his refuge for
attraction.

I could hear his heartbeat begin to elevate
as did mine.

In my vulnerable state, I began to confuse
protection with desire and to mistake my needing his security for
me yearning his touch. I glanced up; he was staring down at me. His
eyes were so beautiful.

His lips were so inviting. I licked mine as
our heads drifted in toward one another. Then I realized what I was
about to do. I realized what I was still wearing and pulled the
cover up over me. I recognized, although I wanted to feel his arms
around me for security, it was wrong. Sitting up, I quickly looked
away. I swallowed, feeling the warmth in my face.

He quickly stood up. His face turned a subtle
shade of pink. He glanced out the door as he spoke. “You’re gonna
be okay. If you need me, I’ll be in the next room.” He rushed to
the door and closed it behind him.

I slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

I heard the smash of the glass as the window
shattered.

“You whore! Where are you, stupid bitch?” He
was in the house. I could hear a struggle. I opened the door to see
the ax, to see the blood . . . to see Brad fall.

“Bradley,” I screamed. Steve glared up from
the body. His ominous smirk threatened my very existence. I ran to
my room and locked it. Where could I go? I looked in the mirror. I
examined my hands. They were covered in blood. Blood! Had I been
there when the ax took his life? Bradley’s blood was on my hands!
Bradley’s blood stained my body! The red
negligee
tried to camouflage the scarlet blood of my
sin. I killed Bradley. I put him in danger.

I should have never asked to stay here. Just
then, the ax began smashing through the wooden door. His eyes
narrowed as he peeked through the splintered wood. His smirk was
forced, calculated, sinister. Steve staggered toward me with the
ax.

I screamed, waking up from the horror—covered
in sweat, trembling in fear.

“You okay?” Brad came running in.

“It was all my fault . . . you were dead.” I
was slurring from the effect of the sleeping pills. I was still a
little out of it.

“It was a dream. It was only a dream.” He sat
on the bed.

“He was here Brad. It was so real. He was
here.” He wrapped his arms around me, giving me a hug.

“He’s locked up. He can’t hurt you anymore. I
called the prison. He wasn’t let out on bail. I don’t know how he
made that phone call, but he was calling you from jail.”

“He was here.”

I inspected my hands to make sure they
weren’t covered in blood. Bradley held me in his arms for a moment.
“You are gonna be okay.”

I needed to talk to Dylan. He didn’t call. I
needed to hold him, but he wasn’t here. I needed his warmth. He was
gone. I needed his protection. It had vanished.

I gazed up at Bradley. He looked down on me,
and I gently reached up, touching his face.

“Bradley, why don’t you have a girlfriend?
You are so amazing.”

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