Stalkholm, p.7
Stalkholm, page 7
“Okay, Addison, last question. When you saw Collin and the girl in the woods, did you hear or see anything unusual?” Sheriff Kirk asks, solemnly.
“No, sir,” I say with a shake of my head. “Nothing that I can remember, anyway.”
Chief Kirk and Wes stand and shake my hand.
“Thank you, Addison. You’ve been a tremendous help. I think we have everything we need, but if we have any more questions, we will reach out,” Sheriff Kirk says, releasing my hand.
“I don’t feel like I was much help,” I say, shrugging.
“I’ll have Officer Clark walk you out. I have a few phone calls I need to make. Have a good rest of your day, Addison. Oh, and Happy Birthday. Your father told me you turn eighteen today.” Sheriff Kirk says.
“Thank you, sir. This was not how I planned to start my birthday,” I say with a laugh.
“I don’t imagine so,” the sheriff says, retreating to his office. Once his door shuts, Wes looks at me and places his hand on my lower back.
“I didn’t know today was your birthday,” he says, blue eyes shining.
“I’m sorry Wes, with everything going on, it hasn’t been top priority,” I say. “Hey, where was Officer Prescott? Dad said he was the one who called about the interview.”
“Kirk spoke with both of us and we all agreed that since I was the one with you on the scene, you would probably be more comfortable with me in the room versus Prescott whom you’d never met,” Wes tells me, rubbing his thumb along the small of my back, before pulling his hand away.
“Oh, that makes sense. I’m glad you were there with me. I just hate that you had to hear all the details about Collin and Savannah,” I tell him. I debate whether I should tell him about the friendly neighborhood creep that’s been texting and sending me disturbing pictures.
“Why? Is it because it hurt you? Or do you think that’ll somehow affect us now?” he asks.
“I don’t really know why. I just don’t like talking about it. I haven’t even given my parents all the details,” I tell him. “It just made me uncomfortable.”
“I had to fight the urge to grab your hand and reassure you. It was so hard for me not to touch you,” he says, pulling at my heartstrings.
“I think we did pretty good,” I say to him.
“I wish we could keep talking, but we don’t want to raise any suspicions,” he says, taking a step forward. We walk forward, not speaking until we get to the waiting room my parents are in. “I will text you tonight,” he whispers. I grin at him and winks at me before opening the door.
The waiting room is painted a pretty pale green with tan carpets. Pictures of various sceneries hang on the wall; there’s a tall, white reading lamp in one corner. There’s a large picture window with white gauzy curtains hanging from steel curtain rods. Mom and Dad are sitting in plush chairs with a coffee table in front of them.
“Hey, baby,” Mom says, getting up from her chair and pulling me into a hug. “How’d it go?”
“It went fine. All I did was give them a recap of the night,” I say, hugging her back.
“Thank Officer, for bringing her back down here,” Dad says, extending his hand to Wes.
“No need to thank me sir, it was my pleasure. You have a very compassionate girl there.” Wes shakes his hand, nodding his head in my direction. We leave the waiting room and head back to the car. Dad pulls me into a one-armed hug.
“What do you want to do today, kiddo? Today is all about you. It’s not every day you turn the big one eight!” he asks.
“Honestly, Dad, with the way the last few days have gone, I really just want to rest and relax. Can we go to dinner tonight?” I ask hopefully.
“Of course! Anything for my princess,” Dad says, kissing the top of my head.
“Would it be okay if I invite Amelia?” I look up through my lashes. Dad never says no when I give him this look.
“Of course, I was just going to suggest that. You know we love Amelia!” he says. “I need to go to the office for a few hours. How about I pick you and your mother up around 6:30?” He asks, looking at his watch. “I love you, kiddo.” He kisses my head. He walks over to Mom’s door and opens it for her. She walks over to the driver’s side and kisses Dad on the mouth.
“I love you, Dan,” she says.
“I love you too, honey,” he says, planting a quick kiss to the center of her forehead.
We get home and into the house; I take off my shoes and leave them by the door since I plan to wear them to dinner. I go into the kitchen to grab a drink; Mom stocked the fridge recently. I grab a can of Dr. Pepper and head into the living room.
“Mom, I’m going to turn on something to watch, if that’s okay?” I ask, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and covering up.
“I need to fold some laundry. Why don’t you turn on Harry Potter?” she offers.
“Do you want some help?” I ask sitting up.
“No, baby, it’s just one load. It won’t take but a few minutes. You need to rest before going back to school tomorrow,” she says, picking up the first article of clothing. I grab the remote and turn on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I settle into the cushions and get comfortable. I’m doing exactly what I wanted to do today, but then my thoughts sour as I think about having to go back to school tomorrow.
I’m dreading school. I just know that Amelia and I are going to be getting nothing but pitying looks and crappy ‘I’m sorry about your friends,’ all day. Not to mention the school moved up final exams so that the school year can end early. I don’t want to be seen as ‘Addison, the girl who’s best friend was killed in an accident and whose boyfriend was murdered.’
How many people are going to think that I had something to do with it? Oh god, I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before. People might think that I had something to do with it. My stomach is rolling with nerves. I’ve got to get my mind off this before I send myself into a full-blown panic attack. I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Amelia. Maybe she can distract me.
Addy: Hey chica, wanna come to dinner tonight with me and the rents?
I check the time and see it’s only 10:15 a.m. She might not even be awake right now. The opening music to the movie starts and it spreads serotonin through me. My mom raised me on these movies, they’re my childhood. Call me a die-hard potter-head all you want, but it’s the best fandom to be a part of. Forty-five minutes pass by and my phone pings.
Ames: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIE BITCH!!!!
Ames: Duh I wanna go to dinner with y’all! You turn 18 today—you’d skin my hide if I didn’t see you on your birthday
Addy: You’re not wrong considering we’ve seen each other on every birthday for the last 14 years!
Ames: I’m never wrong
Addy: Jeeeeeeezzzz, Dad is going to pick me and Mom up at 6:30 so we’ll be at your place between 6:40 and 6:50 so be ready to leave
Ames: I will be. You worry too much. How are you spending your birthDAY
Addy: On the couch binging Harry Potter with Mom. I just need a day to rest and relax. So much has happened lately. I’m exhausted, and I keep thinking about school tomorrow.
Ames: I know. So much has changed. It’s so hard to wrap my head around. You would think the school would exempt us from finals, given everything.
Addy: Yeah, I wish. I’m going to try to take a nap. I’ll see you around 6:30, sis.
I put my phone down and curl up with my blanket. I love this movie. The first one isn’t my favorite, but it is a classic. It doesn’t take long before my eyes are closing, and I drift off to sleep. I wake to the smell of fresh baked bread. My stomach growls and I walk into the kitchen as Mom is pulling a loaf of fresh baked bread out of the oven.
“Mom, that smells incredible,” I tell her, inhaling deeply.
“Oh Addison, you startled me. I was about to wake you up and see if you wanted some lunch.” Mom says, dramatically clutching her chest.
“Yeah, Mom, lunch sounds good,” I say with a laugh and eye roll.
“Give me ten minutes and we will have grilled cheese,” she says, turning to the fresh loaf of bread.
“Thanks,” I tell her and turn toward the stairs. I walk up the stairs slowly. The sun is shining through my bay window, giving a movie-like glow to the room. I stretch and make my way to the bathroom. That nap definitely did not last long enough. I run a brush through my tangled hair and throw it up on top of my head. I change into a swimsuit and throw an oversize t-shirt over the top. The smell of butter and crispy bread has my stomach in an uproar. I head down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Oh my god. I’m starving,” I say, throwing out all the theatrics. Mom laughs, moving the last sandwich out of the pan. We enjoy our late lunch in a comfortable silence.
“I’ll clean up the kitchen, Mom. Go relax,” I tell her, kissing her cheek.
“Thank you, Addison,” Mom gushes. I make quick work of the kitchen. I grab the book I’m currently reading, my water cup, and sunscreen. There is a nice shaded spot on one side of the patio near the pool. I lay in my favorite lounge chair and open my book. It’s a hot day, but the light cool breeze keeps me cool.
‘His hair, so black there was a purple hue to it, fell into his eyes and clung to the sheen of sweat that coated his strong body. His brilliant blue eyes stared into mine with such desire it took my breath away. His gold chain hung from his neck as he loomed over me.’
My thoughts wander to my new favorite set of blue eyes. I wonder what he’s doing right now.
A: Hey, just thinking about you. How’s work?
W: Not too bad, working the Sanders case.
W: I like that you’re thinking of me.
A: Do you know anything new?
W: Not yet, we are waiting for tests and analysts. We’ve got interviews on and off all day. It’s gearing up to be a long one.
A: Oh I’m sorry. I don’t want to interrupt you while you work. I just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about you.
W: You are never an interruption. I enjoy hearing from you. It puts a smile on my face. I don’t know where this is going, but we can have fun while we figure it out.
Butterflies, instant butterflies. I can’t believe that this is happening to me, ME! He is ten years older than me, but now that I’m eighteen, there isn’t an issue with us being together. I don’t know what he sees in me. There’s nothing particularly remarkable about me. I’ve read books that talked about being able to get lost in someone’s eyes, but I never believed it to be true. When I look into Wesley’s eyes, I feel as if I’m floating in a crystal blue lagoon with the sun beating down on me.
* * *
“Addy, come inside and get changed. Dad will be here soon,” Mom calls from the back door. I startle at her voice. My heart practically jumps out of my chest. I check my phone and it shows it’s 5:50 p.m. I normally keep a check on the time. When I get engrossed in a book, I lose all track of time and apparently, thinking of Wes makes me lose all track of time too. I love reading; it’s probably my favorite thing to do. Ames and I swap books all the time. Thankfully, we have the same taste in books.
Once upstairs I decide to keep it simple tonight. I throw back on my jean shorts and opt for a cropped, distressed t-shirt. My shorts are high-waisted so my stomach isn’t actually showing. I’m very self-conscious about my stomach. Mom says I’m curvy and my doctor tells me that I’m not overweight, but for some reason, I don’t know; it’s really bothering me today. I go into the bathroom and touch up what makeup I have on, and brush out my dark hair. I decide on braids for my hair. Well, it’s not really a braid because it’s only done with two strands of hair, but it’s cute, easy, and quick to do.
When Dad gets home, Mom and I get in the car and we head toward Amelia’s. I pull out my phone to text her and let her know that we are on our way. There’s an unread message on the screen.
W: Just got off work, can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked this morning.
His words give me instant butterflies. I look up and see Dad looking at me through the mirror, so I try to be mindful of my facial expressions. I decide to play it flirty with him, feeling bold. I respond quickly.
A: Thank you. I learned today that you look so good in your nice work clothes and badge. ;)
As I press send Ames gets in and buckles up.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she practically screams pulling me into an awkward one-armed hug. I pull away laughing.
“Thank you! I’m so glad you’re coming to dinner with us. You look better,” I tell her, nodding toward the bruise on her face.
“You know I wouldn’t miss it,” she says, blowing me a kiss. Mom asks her a question but I pay no attention to them, only the phone that has vibrated in my hand.
W: Mmhmm, well that’s good to know ;)
Oh. My. GOD! Wes is flirting back. I could scream, faint, or puke. At this point, I’m not sure what feeling is running through my body, but I’m loving every ounce of it. I put my phone away, if we keep texting there is absolutely no way I’ll be able to keep a goofy grin off my face.
We pull into the restaurant, and are seated immediately. We are served my favorite part of Mexican food: chips and queso. Dinner passes more quickly than I thought it would. When you put Amelia and I together, you’d think it was a comedy show. We had my parents almost in tears from laughing so hard. After we drop Amelia off at her house, we make our way home. It was nice that neither Mom nor Dad brought up the accident. I really enjoyed acting like nothing had changed.
“Think Mom and I are going to go for an evening swim, wanna join us?” Dad asks, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror.
“I’d love to, but I’m so tired, Dad. It’s been a lot these last few days. I really want to just go home, run a hot bath with a bath bomb, and read my book. I’m sorry,” I lie. I really just want to text Wes without the fear of being interrupted. I mean who knows maybe I’ll get a little confidence and send him some dirty texts, then we can really see where this is going.
“That’s okay, baby. It’s your birthday, you spend it however you want too. Your mom and I will spend some time together,” he says, taking moms hand in his. I smile at him, thankful he didn’t see through the lie.
“Thanks, Dad. This has been the weirdest birthday,” I half laugh. “If you’d have told me last year that I’d spend my eighteenth birthday in an interrogation room, my boyfriend and best friend dead. I’d have laughed in your face,” I say sarcastically, sadness tingeing the ending.
“I’m sorry, honey. I know this hasn’t been a great day.” Mom says sympathetically.
“The day hasn’t been bad, just different. I had thought my eighteenth birthday would’ve been a big deal with a party with all my friends and a cake, but, hey; chips and queso is great too,” I tell her with a smile. My mind flits to the sexy officer waiting on me to text him back.
“That’s our girl, always able to see the silver lining,” Dad says to Mom, winking at me in the rear-view mirror. I feel my phone vibrate against my leg and open the message.
U: Happy birthday, my favorite girl, now woman. I can’t wait to get my hands on you.
Chapter Twelve
Reaper
“Ugh, Addison,” I grunt, pumping my fist faster. Images of her flash through my mind. Her eyes, pools of melted dark chocolate. Those plump lips, the way her tongue darts across them when she’s nervous. Her hands, the way she twirls her hair when she’s deep in thought. The swell of her breasts, when she wears that cropped V-neck she knows I love. I imagine her on her knees in front of me, the way her tongue would dart and dance around my cock. Fisting my hands in her hair and taking control, driving in and out of her mouth. Cutting off her air supply and making those beautiful brown eyes water. “Fuck, Addison.” That last part was my undoing. Catching the thick ropes of seed in my hand, I walk over to the sink, and wash it down the drain.
It’s just after 10 p.m., I note glancing at my watch. That release was not what I needed. My mind drifts to the release after I killed that little prick. That’s what I need, to feel someone’s life blood coating my hands. To watch the life leave their eyes. Heart racing, I grab my keys. Fuck, why is Ms. Gleason always out walking that beady eyed, miniature demon she calls a dog.
“Hi, Ms. Gleason, nice night out tonight,” I call with a wave of my hand.
“Oh, hello dear. Pookie and I are just taking a quick potty break before bed,” she calls walking toward me.
“Well it was nice to see you, I’m going for a quick run, can’t sleep,” I say quickly getting into my car. Ugh, I can’t stand the elderly, they always overshare. They smell bad, and don’t know what personal space is. I mean, Ms. Gleason is nice and all, but I cannot stand talking to the woman.
The parking lot at the library is mostly empty so I just sit and watch. A teenage girl and her friend walkout with a couple of books, no not what I’m looking for. An elderly man walks out and lights a cigarette, nope not him. A few minutes pass and a curvy dark-haired woman walks out with a bag slung over her shoulders. She looks like my Addison, wait that is my Addison! I grab my bag and walk over toward the library entrance. I start wiping at my eyes and sniffling hard. I accidentally knock gently into her and drop my bag.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” she says as she bends down and grabs at my bag.
“It was my fault. I should’ve been looking at where I was going,” I say, keeping my eyes down.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks as we stand.
“I will be. Thanks for helping,” I say moving in closer to her.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” she says, stepping backward, eyes widening. “Can you like, stop coming toward me?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to come out, Addison,” I say to her.
“My names not Addison,” she says, voice shaking. “Look, stop right there, or I’ll scream.” She puts her hands up.
“Oh shit okay, I’ll back off,” I say, retreating with my hands up. She lets out a deep breath and drops her head. “Nah, I like my women terrified,” I say, drawing the knife out of the sheath on my side. “Make another sound and I’ll gut you like a fish, understand.” She nods, eyes wide and tearful.
