The Stalker Chronicles (8 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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Chapter 14
Pilar
I waited, watched, and listened patiently, double-checked my watch a few times. Patience was my middle name. This was the fun part, lying in wait for the prey to appear, not suspecting a thing. They were like calves being led to the slaughterhouse. Dressed in all black, from head to toe, with my hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, I strained to hear outside movement from inside the compact storage closet.
I had been waiting for close to an hour already. It didn't matter, because I had the patience of Job from the Bible. I knew it wouldn't be much longer, based on my observations from the earlier part of the week. Like I said, most people were creatures of habit. Bailey was no exception.
I had watched her comings and goings from my patio and had listened from the apartment next to hers—the one I had a three-month rental agreement on. I knew her little routine like the back of my hand. And just like I thought, she was a slut, plain and simple. Almost every other night, except for last night, a different man had his dick inside her. She claimed to love Xavier, based on the phone conversations I had listened in on, but just like in the Jay-Z song, she was just like a bus route, with everybody riding her.
Is that what Xavier really wanted or needed in his life? I could have been so good for him. I truly loved him. I loved him more than I loved myself, but somewhere deep inside, I realized it was too late for us. Some men would never be marriage material. Xavier would never change because he would always be controlled by the head in his pants. It was what it was.
Suddenly, I was pulled out of my reverie when I heard the sound of a door opening and closing. Then I heard the sound of movement, footsteps coming my way. That was my clue to ease the door of my hiding place, a hallway storage closet between our apartments, open a couple of inches wider and to adjust the black mask with eye, nose, and mouth openings over my head.
I cautiously peeked out. I had come too far to mess this up because of human error on my end. Yeah, that was the slut. Xavier couldn't seem to break away from the model-looking chick type if his life depended upon it. As I stared out at her, I was surprised at the intensity of my hatred. I was shocked that the severity of it didn't spill forth and overtake her on the spot. My disdain for her was so tangible, I expected her to turn and stare in my direction, fully aware of my presence. But she didn't. She took her time preparing for her daily run: applying lip gloss to her lips, securing her keys and water bottle.
I took her in from head to toe with utter disgust. She was tiny and perky and cute. Dressed in pink designer gear, she looked like a black Barbie. Xavier was too good for her. She didn't love him, just his deep pockets. For me, Xavier could be homeless, sleeping on a park bench, and I would still love him with everything I had inside. An image of Xavier flashed before my eyes, and I smiled. As Bailey adjusted her iPod, she looked my way. I quickly pulled back into the deep shadows, into the cover of darkness.
I had to admit Bailey had great taste. Her luxury apartment complex was very expensive, exclusive, and extraordinary. I had paid a pretty penny for a three-month rental agreement, but after my work was done, I would be long gone. Ghost. Yes, Bailey was a pretty little thing. I could understand why Xavier liked to fuck her repeatedly, but not for much longer. That was all about to change. And change was good, but I wasn't sure if Xavier would embrace it well.
I strained harder to hear, not moving, careful not to reveal my presence in the closet. I hated her with a blinding hatred at that moment in time. Xavier wanted her but not me. He screwed her but not me. She was everything I wasn't and would never be. I wasn't wholesome, without baggage, and undamaged, thanks to my mother, with her perverted appetites. The color red was now mixed with the raging hatred emitting from my very soul. Something inside my spirit erupted, and I became that other person. The one whose sole purpose was to survive by any means necessary. The one who could do very vicious things.
Just as she turned to skip down the stairs, Bailey stopped abruptly. She dropped down to tie the shoelace on her right foot, angled awkwardly against the stairwell. I saw images of Xavier performing oral sex on her, tasting her essence, sticking his beautiful black dick inside her and taking her to heaven. I hated her and everything she stood for!
Just as she stood up, I screamed out, “Bailey! You bitch!”
She turned in my direction, shock registered on her face, and I ran the short distance to her at full speed and delivered a single, forceful push. The expression on her face as she stumbled down the stairs was priceless.
“Stay away from him! Do you hear me? Stay away from him! There won't be another warning!”
I inched back, quickly stepping into the shadows. I thought I heard a door open. I froze in my stance. I quickly glanced over the railing to see her sprawled unnaturally near the bottom of the flight of stairs, unmoving but slightly moaning. And there was blood.
I smiled and quickly, like a thief in the night, entered my unlocked apartment before the crowd came. They always came after the fact. No one ever saved the innocent child when it was happening. There would be questions. Did anyone hear anything? Did anyone see anything out of the ordinary? By then I would be long gone on my flight back to Houston and to Xavier and, oh yeah, to Dre'.
I guessed Bailey wouldn't be going to Houston anytime soon. Mission accomplished. Next.
Chapter 15
Dre'
“Milan, you look breathtaking tonight,” I stated, admiring her from across the dinner table and enjoying what I saw.
“Thank you, Dre'. You aren't looking too shabby yourself,” she teased and smiled.
Damn, that smile did something to me—lit up my world and made me weak in the knees. “I'm glad you agreed to dinner, because I really wanted to see you again. To be honest, you have been on my mind since we met.”
“How sweet, Dre', but I had already agreed to dinner before my trip.”
“I know, but I thought you might be too tired to join me after you returned. Was your trip business related, or do you have family members in L.A.?”
She giggled in a girlish way. “Yeah, you could say it was business related.”
“How was it?” I asked.
“It was very productive. I got a lot accomplished,” she said as she took a sip of the glass of water with lemon directly in front of her. “A lot of obstacles came tumbling down. I believe I had a breakthrough.”
“Good. Do you travel a lot?”
“For the past few months I have, but since my business is finished on the West Coast, I think I'll be around home more.”
“Great. That will allow more time for me to get to know you better.”
The waitstaff took that moment to approach with our entrées and drinks. We were silent as they arranged our plates and silverware in front of us and then left.
“This looks absolutely delicious,” Milan stated, looking over her steaming seafood feast.
“Dig in. Enjoy.”
“Wait. Go back, Dre'. You said I've been on your mind.”
“You have. I couldn't even concentrate at work the other day. Kept thinking about the next time I would see you and that beautiful smile.”
“Really? We just met. This is our first official date.”
“I can't explain it, either. Like I was telling my best friend, you're a special lady, and I get a real good feeling from you.”
“You've been talking about me to your friend?” she asked, dipping a jumbo shrimp into the red, tangy cocktail sauce.
“It's all good. He hasn't been too lucky in the relationship department lately, and I had to rub you in his face.” I chuckled.
“That doesn't sound nice.”
“No, it's not like that. Xavier and I go all the way back to childhood. We have always had this friendly rivalry between us. All in good fun.”
“You two sound pretty close,” she said, waiting for my response.
“We are. Close as blood brothers.”
“Did you say his name is Xavier?”
“Yeah, Xavier Preston.”
“Hmmm. That name sounds familiar.”
“It should.”
“Where have I heard that name before?”
“Right now he has the hottest number one movie in America.
Diary of a Stalker,”
I said, cutting into my juicy, well-done, mesquite-wood-grilled sirloin steak.
“Really? I haven't heard of it,” Milan said, appearing not be interested.
I placed both hands on the table and stared at her, waiting for the laughter to start.
“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Excuse me? You're kidding, aren't you?”
“Kidding about what?”
“You haven't heard of or seen
Diary of a Stalker
yet?”
She quietly chuckled. “No, I haven't. Should I?”
“I'm sorry. It's just that it's been the topic of conversation in homes and workplaces across the country.”
“Well, I'm sorry, too. I don't go to the movies a lot, rarely watch TV, and with my hectic schedule, I simply don't have the time,” she stated, taking a bite of her house salad.
“It's a date, then. You have to see the movie, because I am so proud of my man and I'm probably his number one promoter.”
“You're a good friend. His triumphs are yours. That's nice.”
“It's even more than that. The movie is based upon a real-life experience he had with a female stalker. The bitch, excuse my French, the chick turned his world upside down.”
Suddenly I stopped talking because Milan had a look on her face that stopped me in mid-sentence. She looked ice cold. A chill ran down my spine.
“Is anything wrong? Did I say something to offend you?”
“No, go on. I'm listening,” she said, with a bit of attitude lingering in her tone.
“I was saying that I'm simply happy that he was able to turn tragedy into triumph. He deserves this success. He really does. Xavier has worked extremely hard over the years, nothing was handed to him, and it finally paid off.”
“Sounds like it has. You should be proud of your friend.”
“I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to meet him soon.”
“I would love to. I can hardly wait. Actually, I'm looking forward to it,” she cooed.
The remainder of the night was uneventful but nice. Milan and I talked—well, mostly I talked—as we attempted to get to know each other a little better. There was a comfortable and unassuming quality she projected. I soon discovered that Milan had the unique ability to draw out personal information. I felt totally relaxed and at ease telling her about my early years, growing up in the mean streets of Houston. She took it all in, looked fascinated, hung on my every word. After a mouthwatering meal, we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. I just knew I had found an exceptional lady, and I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.
Chapter 16
Xavier
Most people have heard the saying about how you can talk about a person and eventually talk them up. Well, I thought that was what I did with Kendall. I had been thinking so much about her lately that I thought her up.
I was shopping, something I absolutely hate, for a shirt in a department store at the Galleria mall and made a detour through the men's cologne department. When I glanced up from checking my cell phone messages, Kendall was standing less than fifty feet directly in front of me. I did a double take, because I thought I was seeing things. When I looked again, she was still there.
My heart literally skipped a few beats. At that moment, I realized I still had feelings for her. Deep inside, I had always known I still did. However, there was something about a man's ego that sometimes kept him from admitting certain truths to himself. Even though I was dead wrong to cheat on her, she still walked out on me. Kendall didn't try to work it out; instead, she chose to leave by breaking up. She literally threw the four-carat platinum engagement ring I'd bought her in my face after a few choice words, walked away, and never looked back. Today was my first time seeing her face-to-face since the breakup over two years ago.
Kendall turned and spotted me staring. For just a split second, a smile appeared on her beautiful face and her eyes revealed she was happy to see me. Just as quickly, her true feelings vanished as she pulled them back in. Her emotional shield went back up. Our eyes locked for a few seconds, until a distinguished-looking dude walked up and placed his hands around her tiny waist. She instantly looked away, averted her eyes, and giggled at something he whispered in her ear. She lovingly touched his cheek, and he leaned into her hand.
I turned away, because I felt like I was intruding on an intimate encounter. I was the odd man out. At that moment, I realized our time together had passed and nothing could ever be the same. Too much had been tarnished in the midst of my lies and betrayal.
When I turned around, Kendall was still standing there, looking at me expectantly. I walked over and closed the small distance between us. It felt like a mile separated us. As I closed the gap, I wasn't exactly sure how the mini reunion would play out.
“Hello, Kendall. How are you?” I managed to ask and kept a genuine-looking smile on my face at the same time.
To my surprise, she leaned in for a hug, wrapping her slim arms around my neck for a warm, brief embrace. All this while her husband—at least I assumed he was—looked on with a slight frown on his face.
“Hi, Xavier. It's good to see you. You look well.”
“Same here,” I said and truly meant it. Kendall did look beautiful; she was actually glowing.
In the midst of the hugs and sentiment, I almost forgot about her husband, until he cleared his throat several times.
“Baby, I would like for you to meet Xavier Preston,” she stated, looking from him to me with a curious expression on her face.
I flinched when she called him baby. At one time, not too long ago, that name was reserved exclusively for me, sometimes whispered during the throes of passion, when I was buried deep inside her.
“Xavier, this is my husband, Dr. Vincent Linton.”
“Good to meet you,” I murmured as we shook hands halfheartedly.
“So, this is the famous author?” he asked like he had a bitter, vile taste on his tongue and couldn't get it off.
“That's what they tell me,” I said, trying to inject humor into the situation.
“Xavier, I hear your movie is breaking all kinds of blockbuster records,” Kendall remarked, attempting to break the obvious tension, which clung to the air like a thick, dense fog.
“You don't say?” he asked, sizing me up the entire time.
That pissed me off even more than standing there, pretending to be nice. I had to admit it—it was something that men did. I was guilty of sizing up another man myself. It was part of that king-of-the-jungle mentality; that my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours thing that was in play. I guessed it would be hard to meet the man who had almost married your wife and had sexed her on a regular basis.
“I could never quite figure out you creative types,” he added.
“There's not much to figure out. We are just like everyone else,” I retorted.
“I'm a surgeon,” he stated, pushing his chest out farther. “I save lives on a daily basis. I literally have the power to give life or death. That makes sense to me.”
“I agree, and I admire and respect your profession,” I said, not breaking eye contact with him.
“Baby, shouldn't we be leaving?” Kendall interrupted. “You don't want to be late for your appointment,” she said, gently pulling on his arm, attempting to lead him away and end this interrogation.
The doctor simply looked at her like she had lost her damn mind. He had every intention of playing out the purpose at hand—of making my profession out to be minuscule in relation to his. “What have I told you about butting into men's business?”
Kendall shrugged and backed down instantly.
“You have that movie out?
Diary,
uh?”
“Diary of a Stalker,”
I said slowly, like I was speaking to someone who was a little mentally challenged.
“Yeah, that's it. What's the point?”
“Excuse me? I don't understand your question.”
“What value does that movie add to the quality of anyone's life? It's not like your little movie is a classic that will be viewed for generations to come, or critiqued and dissected by great literary minds.”
I clenched and unclenched my jaw, thinking what a piece of work this guy was. He was unbelievable. I willed myself to remain quiet and let him talk so he could get all his resentment out.
“Did you enjoy displaying your relationship failures and infidelity to the world?” he asked, with an obvious smirk on his face.
“Movies and books are entertainment, Doctor. They make people laugh, cry, think, scream, and allow them simply to escape their day-to-day routine for a couple of hours. That's the value. They entertain.”
“I don't need you to give me a lesson on the merits of movies. Actually, I am quite a movie buff. I simply don't partake of your kind of movie. I watch good movies, ones that have intrinsic value.”
“To each his own,” I said, trying to remain calm.
“Finally, something we can both agree on,” he stated as he looked at me and sneered again.
“By the way, since you haven't seen it, you shouldn't assume it is a display of my relationship failures, as you say.”
He looked to Kendall and nodded his head in her direction. “You lost her because you couldn't maintain a monogamous relationship. Real men lead with their brains and consider the consequences of their actions first.”
“Baby, let's go,” Kendall said, with anxiety steadily rising in her voice.
“Kendall told me every sordid detail. See, I love this woman with my heart and soul, and I would never lie down with dogs. I prove to Kendall how much I love her every day and night.”
I noticed how he emphasized
night.
I was so angry at that moment that my head was throbbing. “I'm happy for the two of you. I wish you the best,” I managed to spit out without an ounce of sincerity.
“Do you? Do you really?” he asked. “Writers make excellent liars. Is that a prerequisite?”
I didn't respond.
When his cell phone vibrated, he took his attention from me and quickly dismissed me. “Kendall, I need to take this call. Meet me near the exit, and don't be long.”
When he walked off, after dismissing me like the help, I finally let my guard down and relaxed.
“Xavier, I'm really sorry about that,” Kendal stated, looking embarrassed. “You aren't exactly one of his favorite people based on our history together.”
“Is he always that high strung?”
“He doesn't usually act this way.”
For some reason, I didn't believe her. “Unfortunately, I can understand, because I would be jealous, too, if I met the man who almost married my woman. But he won. He got you.”
“Xavier, let's not go there,” she stated, looking in the direction in which her husband had walked off.
“Are you happy?” I asked, looking at her intensely as I waited for her answer.
She hesitated. “I am. Very. He's a great provider.”
“The last I heard—I may be wrong—but it takes much more than that to make a marriage work. Love is usually part of the equation.”
“Silly, of course, I love him,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“I've thought about you a lot lately, and I need to talk to you, Kendall.”
“We are talking, and there's not much more to say,” she stated, beginning to walk away.
“We can talk over lunch if you'd like. You choose. Our breakup, the way we parted, has bothered me, and I need to see that you are okay. I don't want you to hate me,” I said, talking faster and following closely behind her.
“I am okay. I have a good life with a man that adores me.”
“Just lunch, Kendall. We will be in a public setting. Food, maybe a couple of drinks, and two old friends talking, that's all,” I said, throwing up my hands.
“No, I can't. I have to go,” she stated, looking in the direction of her husband again.
“Here, take my business card. Call me. Please, Kendall,” I replied, reaching into my wallet and handing one to her. Our fingers touched and briefly lingered as we made contact.
“Take care, Xavier,” she said as she discreetly slipped my business card into her purse without once looking at it.
I watched her walk away.
If either of us had been paying attention, we would have noticed the mysterious, somewhat familiar female intensely watching us from a distance.
It was years later, and the young girl had grown into a beautiful young woman. Even though her mother would never admit it, the teenager's beauty now outshined hers, and if she searched even deeper within her soul, she would realize she was jealous of her daughter.
Mother and daughter coexisted as enemies under the same roof. There was an invisible line of unspoken hatred that separated them. The young girl's taste of unconditional love had ended with the death of her aunt. Now she felt like she was back in the den of evil.
“You think you're cute, don't you?” her mother asked, staring at her, with disgust clearly displayed on her face.
“No, Mama,” the teenager said to her mother, who stood in the doorway of her tiny bedroom, watching as she completed her homework.
“Good. Because you ain't.”
The teenager didn't respond. She had learned long ago to keep her answers simple and short, to keep her face frozen and devoid of any emotion. Most days she existed in a zombie-like state.
“Did you hear me? I regret the day I spread my legs for that no-good son of a bitch. Look at you. You got your ugly, disgusting looks from that bastard of a daddy of yours.”
The teenager knew better than to inquire as to who or where this mysterious daddy was, and to be honest, after all this time had passed, she really didn't care. Men came with demands and pain.
“No man will ever want you. When they see you, they know what you are. No one could love such a lazy, stupid, ugly girl such as yourself.”
The teenager tried to block it all out; she had heard these words, or worse, her entire life. She almost believed them ... almost. Somewhere in the back of her rational mind, she knew there was someone out there waiting for her. And she knew someday she'd find him and her life would be happy and complete.

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