The Stalker Chronicles (11 page)

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Authors: Electa Rome Parks

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

BOOK: The Stalker Chronicles
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“I don't know. That's why I asked.”
“Of course not.”
“Why did you risk coming here today?”
“One word.
Closure.
I needed to hear what you had to say so that I could have some form of closure. I have moved on, but I needed to face you one last time.”
“Do you feel that's what we accomplished today?”
“I do.”
“I feel we opened up a whole new can of worms. I want you so bad right now, Kendall. I miss you, and I realize what a wonderful woman I lost due to my infidelity, foolishness, and weakness.”
She blushed and looked around hastily to make sure no one had heard me. “Xavier, you can't say things like that. It's over for us,” she explained, like she was talking to a child. “I'm a married woman.”
“I can't help it. I'm simply being honest.”
She shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Don't you feel anything sitting across from me? Aren't any of the old feelings resurfacing, or did they ever really leave?”
“Please. Don't do this.”
“Just answer my question. If you say no, I won't believe you. It shows in your body language, and I could always read your body.”
Kendall never had the opportunity to respond to my question because a loud crash behind us altered the course of the conversation and our waiter chose that moment to bring our drinks and meals over.
Most of the remainder of lunch was spent drinking, eating, talking of trivial matters, catching up, and avoiding our obvious attraction, which was like a tangible presence of its own that pulsated to its own beat.
A New Beginning
The dark, hooded figure stood in the wispy shadows, unseen from the secluded street, and patiently waited. The roaring fire blazed far and wide, sizzling, popping, and hissing. She thought it was beautiful the way the brilliant flames literally danced back and forth in the stillness, disrupting the silence and demanding attention. The air was alive as it crackled, sparked, and pulsed with electricity and energy.
The flames hypnotized her and released within a sense of power that she never knew she possessed. The higher the flames grew and the louder the fire roared, the more powerful, unstoppable, and confident she became. This feeling was new to her, liberating, exhilarating down to her core.
It was almost as if an unseen transformation was taking place as she lurked in the shadows. She was shedding an old identity and claiming a new and improved one. Under the cover of darkness, a rebirth was happening, with no one to witness it but the twinkling stars and cloudless sky above.
By the time the fire department arrived, it would be too late for her mother and the man she called Daddy-the stepfather whose bed she also shared, sometimes along with her mother. Yes, it would be much too late for them. She prayed the fiery gates of hell had already opened and welcomed them in as one of their own. She reveled in the fact that they would live in eternal damnation. She thought that was a suitable sentence.
Chapter 20
Pilar
I could barely contain myself as I hastily made my way to the front door of the restaurant. The exit sign was a welcome sight. I wanted to hit something, hurt somebody so badly that I was shaking uncontrollably with furor.
That stupid bitch,
I silently screamed in my head. “
Stupid.
How dare she?” I muttered to myself as I bumped into a startled waiter as I made my quick departure out the heavy double doors of the exit. “Slut. A married woman and still shamefully throwing herself at Xavier.”
I had taken a quick right and had heard dishes crash to the floor, causing heads to turn toward the source of the noise. I hadn't uttered an apology or even paused for a second. I was on a mission. I had to get out of there before I exploded with a vengeance.
“I'll show her ass, again. Hardheaded ... simply hardheaded.”
I knew Xavier was a male whore, but I thought Miss My-Shit-Don't-Stink was decent. She absolutely was not going to have her cake and eat it, too. Not on my watch. If I couldn't have him, why should she? She had a man, and I had no one, and probably never would. It just wasn't fair. My life hadn't been fair since I came out of my mother's womb.
I calmed down slightly as fresh air greeted me. Restaurant patrons seated near the front were still curiously looking out the window, confused over my frantic departure. I forced myself to calm down as I made my way to my car and pressed UNLOCK on my keypad. I somehow managed to place myself in the driver's seat.
Breathe. Breathe. Take deep calming breaths. Think happy thoughts.
Yeah, I was going to fix her ass and good. I'd show her. When was she going to learn once and for all that Xavier was no longer her man?
They were always hardheaded. They would learn the lesson for a short time and then backpedal. I knew it was hard to get over Xavier; I, of all people, realized that. There was something about him that drew a woman in and took over her life, devoured her alive and dominated her thoughts. As much as I hated him, I loved him even more. There truly was a thin line between love and hate. And I was about to show Xavier the true meaning of hate. When I was finished, he would have a PhD in the subject.
I managed to drive myself back to my tiny apartment on the other side of town. During the process, I managed not to hurt myself or an innocent driver or pedestrian. I was so mad. Correction, I was beyond mad. I was pissed! I never stayed mad for long because I knew how to get even.
Women like Kendall always thought they were privileged and delicate and special. Even from my corner view in the back of the restaurant, I saw how Xavier looked at Kendall. He never, not even once, looked at me like that. He still loved her. He still adored her. No doubt about it—he would take her back in a New York minute. Not! Not if I had anything to do with it.
I smiled because a plan was already being formulated in my mind as I unlocked my front door and entered my world.
Chapter 21
Dre'
“Sure. That sounds like a plan to me,” I said with a huge smile on my face.
“I'll see you tomorrow,” she whispered in a singsong tone, and I imagined her looking all sweet and sexy in a stunning see-through teddy that left nothing to my imagination.
“Can't wait,” I said, hanging up my landline.
I still hadn't quite figured out what Milan had done to me. Ever since our dinner date, I couldn't seem to get her off my mind. Anyone who knew me definitely realized this was uncharacteristic. Dre' Walker didn't fall head over heels in love or entertain sappy romantic notions. I had stopped believing in fantasies a long time ago.
Sure, at thirty-eight, almost thirty-nine, I had been married and divorced two times. I knew the real deal when it came to women, love, and relationships. Hell, I could pen a relationship-based book like Steve Harvey! For years now I had been telling Xavier he should ghostwrite one for me.
Relationships were not all they were cracked up to be. Women changed on you as often as you changed your socks. In the beginning, they could be as sweet as honey. They stroked my ego and listened while I talked, like I held the secret to life in my words. They would give good loving on a regular basis. They kept their hair looking good, dressed sexy but classy, and made sure they smelled good. Sure, each one seemed like the ideal, perfect woman, but I had lived long enough to know the perfect woman didn't exist.
I hadn't quite figured it out, but there was something about placing a diamond ring on a woman's finger—the larger the carat, the better—and promising to love and cherish a woman forever that changed the nature of a relationship for the worse. My forever never lasted longer than three years, because shortly after the wedding I never knew who I had up in my house or bed. Everything changed. I could always count on that. Okay, I admit the first year was always fine, the honeymoon stage, but after that things always went downhill in a quick hurry, like an unstoppable avalanche.
I wouldn't say that each and every time it was my ex who was to blame—I played my part. I realized without a doubt that I was not Mr. Perfect, either, but when I was faithful to you, elevating your lifestyle, making you come in the bedroom, and you still couldn't respect me, keep my house clean, and cook my meals ... Well, then we had a problem. I knew I was a traditional man when it came to relationships.
Xavier was always saying I scared my wives away with my Neanderthal ways and ideas. I wanted my woman to be a woman, and not someone trying to wear my pants. As for Milan, I had a really good feeling about her. I could barely wait for our date tomorrow night.
Chapter 22
Xavier
“Khai, don't forget to send flowers and a get-well card to Bailey out in California,” I said, speaking into my cell phone.
“Already done, Mr. Preston.”
“What did I tell you? Please call me, Xavier.”
“Oh, okay, Mr... I mean, Xavier,” Khai stated.
“That's more like it,” I said, walking upstairs from my morning workout and wiping sweat from my face with the white towel draped around my neck.
“Xavier, again, thank you so much for this opportunity. I can't believe I'm the assistant to the one and only Xavier Preston. Students in my creative writing program would die to be in my shoes.”
“You deserve it, Khai. You were definitely the best out of all the candidates interviewed. Besides, you have done a spectacular job in just the few weeks you've worked for me.”
“Thank you.”
“By the way, you are more than welcome to work from my home office anytime you like, whether I'm here or not. You have the spare key and security codes.”
“If it's okay with you, I would rather not. I prefer to work from your office only when you are there.” I detected a slight hesitation in her voice.
“That's fine, Khai. Whatever works for you. I have no problem with that as long as the projects get completed.”
“I appreciate that.”
“May I ask why you prefer not to be in my home alone?”
“Well,” she began. “I always ...” She hesitated.
“It's okay,” I said reassuringly.
“I always feel like I'm being watched when I'm there alone. You know how the tiny hairs can stand up on the back of your neck and arms?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that happens to me. Plus, I sometimes hear strange sounds, and one day I'm pretty sure I heard voices and something crash to the floor upstairs.”
As I stopped in mid-step on the staircase, I didn't say anything for a few seconds.
“I know I sound totally insane, but ...”
“I'm sure it's your overactive imagination,” I kidded. “I have top-of-the-line security, so you have nothing to worry about, Khai. You're safe here. Maybe you shouldn't have seen my movie.”
“Actually, I saw it twice. It was just that good.”
We laughed, and just like that the subject was changed.
“That's all for now, Khai. I'm going to take a quick shower and grab lunch.”
“Okay, Mr. Preston, I mean, Xavier. I'll get on those assignments you gave me earlier right away.”
As I pushed END on my cell phone, I thought back to Khai's words. Sometimes I felt like I was being watched, as well, but I had totally chalked it up to what had happened between Pilar and me in the past. I still sometimes looked behind me when I was walking outside. I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I walked upstairs to my bedroom. I was well aware of the chill bumps that had suddenly broken out and rushed up and down my arms like an army of angry ants.
Now a beautiful young woman, she recalled the first time she met Dr. Leeda Smith. She didn't know what to make of her. She remembered sizing her up when she thought Dr. Smith wasn't looking. Dr. Smith was very pretty in a refined way, and she smelled good. The young woman didn't particularly trust women and kept them at a distance. She found women to be jealous, conniving, and deceiving. However, she found herself fascinated by Dr. Smith. She particularly liked the way Dr. Smith spoke and pronounced each word articulately and precisely. Dr. Smith wore her trademark glasses perched on the very tip of her nose, but they never fell off. For some reason, she decided she could trust her. In the years to come, they would form a strong, unbreakable bond.
This was her third visit, and she was in her usual seat on the sofa, near the very edge, as far away from the doctor as possible. She nervously tapped her fingers on the leather armrest.
“How was your week?” Dr. Smith asked, appearing genuinely interested.
“Okay, I guess. Nothing special.”
“Just okay? By the way, you look pretty today. Those colors look great on you.”
“Thank you,” the woman replied shyly. She was not used to receiving compliments, at least not from a female. The only other female who had ever been kind to her was an aunt who passed away suddenly. There were a few female teachers, too, now that she thought about it. Some showered her with genuine acts of kindness.
“What do you feel like talking about today?”
The young woman shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the floor, continuing to tap her fingers in a rhythmic manner.
“If you can't decide, that's fine. I'll decide for us this time.”
The young woman remained silent. She still hadn't opened up yet.
“Is your hot tea okay?”
“It's fine,” she said, carefully lifting up the decorative saucer and cup from the coffee table.
“Good. I drink at least a cup a day, and it always calms and relaxes me.”
Dr. Smith moved to sit across from her and smiled. The young woman enjoyed how comfortable she made her feel.
“Let's start out talking about your mother, because she played a pivotal role in your life, no matter how destructive it may have been. Are you still having nightmares about her?”
“Yes.”
“Don't worry, sweetie. I promise you, I am going to make that scary monster go away.”
The young woman smiled for the first time that day.

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