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Sophie’s already confronted me once and acts as if she’s ready to knock my teeth out. I can’t blame her, though. It’s more than deserved because I know I hurt Maddie. Mason’s been busy working his ass off, still trying to make a good impression at his job as a forensics investigator, so we’ve barely crossed paths. While I realize how ridiculous the whole thing is, considering my reputation, I desperately need them to accept my marriage to Victoria. I can smile and deny their accusations all day long, but it doesn’t mean it’s easy. I’ve never had to keep anything from them, especially something of this magnitude. Mason’s been in my life for a long time. He knows all my secrets, and I wonder what he really thinks about this. Sophie has made it very clear she disapproves and seeing Maddie’s hurt face guts me, so being around them won’t be easy, but living together means I can only run from their questions for so long.
I drive around for a while, trying to wake up, but it’s no use. Instead of wasting time, I stop and order some food and coffee while I check my emails and social media notifications. I’ve been tracking a woman named Chantal, and she left a message saying she’s back in Sacramento and wants to meet up. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t realize who she’s been chatting with on Instagram.
Often I’ll use dating apps or other platforms to build a solid foundation with these women who commit heinous crimes. I have fake profiles set up everywhere with different names but still use pictures of myself so I’m recognizable when I show up to hook up with them. Pretending to be interested isn’t always a quick solution, and there have been times when I’ve chatted for over a month before they trust me, but it usually pays off. When a woman sends their address, which is typically a hotel, they think it’s for a booty call. While I’m aware it’s wrong as hell to catfish someone, they should be smarter, considering they’re on the run.
As the waitress refills my coffee for the second time, I send Chantal a message: Good morning, beautiful. Thinking about you.
I lay it on thick as always. It’s nearly seven in the morning, which is early, but she’s up at all hours of the day and night scheming. The girl isn’t smart and continues to commit massive amounts of credit card fraud, the same crime she was initially arrested for, but is going at it with a vengeance this time. It’s a shame she has no morals because she’s a pretty girl, which only helps her manipulate people. The life of luxury she’s living was stolen from innocent people, and Chantal deserves to be behind bars for a handful of years. It’s more than obvious she has zero remorse or issue stealing from those who can’t really afford it. What’s even more disgusting is she shares pictures of her brand-new Louis Vuitton bags and Gucci everything on her Instagram.
My food arrives, and I take my time eating the egg sandwich I ordered. The waitress keeps my mug full, and I lose track of time playing on my phone. I’ve been so preoccupied with Victoria and Vegas that I’ve missed out on a handful of high-paying bounties, which is frustrating as fuck.
If only I had had enough money to pay off my debt. The thought weighs heavy on me. The waitress brings my check, and I pay once I’m done. When my phone vibrates in my pocket, a mischievous grin covers my face because I know exactly who it is.
Chantal: Hey babe. Got in late last night. Want to meet up for breakfast and see where things go?
I’m overly full, but this is all pretend anyway, so I reply, only if you’re the main course. Then I send her a winking emoji.
Chantel: I’d love that! Want to come to my place?
I gag at the thought but send her a response: Thought you’d never ask.
She sends her address, and I head out the door. As soon as I’m in my truck, I program Chantal’s address into the GPS. It shouldn’t be this easy to detain her, but sometimes things work out. Though my luck has been terrible lately.
I’m on the highway, driving across town when I notice a black Suburban riding my ass. Needing to know for sure if it’s intentional or not, I take a random exit and watch as they stay close by. Gritting my teeth, I’m ready to pull over and beat the fuck out of this guy when I decide to call Victoria.
“Good morning, husband,” she coos when she picks up.
I let out a frustrated huff. “Morning. So, here’s a question for you…”
“Yes?”
“Why the fuck am I still being followed?” I continue making last-minute turns, but I’m unable to lose the bastard behind me. I’ve increased speed, slowed down, taken streets I’ve never driven in my life, and it’s no use.
