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Or catch a freaking lunatic.
He’d drop a safety net over me, keeping me suffocatingly close, refusing to allow me out of the house. I wasn’t ready to be confined for the duration of my stay. Besides, I hadn’t seen him in years, our relationship rocky at best. He was likely involved with someone, maybe even living with a girl. Who knew? The last time we’d talked on the phone he’d told me nothing personal. Then again, I hadn’t been forthcoming either.
I’d debated returning to LA instead, but I couldn’t stand the thought of stepping foot inside the apartment even though a professional cleaner had already been assigned by the harsh detective who’d grilled me for hours. He’d felt bad when I’d finally burst into tears. Breaking down hadn’t been my finest hour, but up to that point, I hadn’t been able to close my eyes. He’d suddenly become more nurturing, offering suggestions, including going to stay with someone for a few weeks.
I couldn’t erase the scene or the horrible message from my mind. It had been directed toward me. My gut told me that. No, LA was out of the question.
Sadly, I had nothing to return to anyway, other than going to my mother’s house to stay. She was off jetting somewhere with her third husband on their freaking honeymoon. At least this time the older dude was rich, taking her on the dream cruises and vacations she’d determined a long time ago she was entitled to. Granted, I had a key to her house, but that had never seemed like home to me, no matter how many shades of pink she’d insisted on using to decorate my room.
God, how I loathed the color.
It had taken me almost a week to get the hell out of LA, and only after I’d been interviewed three different times by the police. I’d crashed at one pseudo friend’s house or another, but that hadgotten old. Thank God, I hadn’t been linked to the murder by any nosy reporter or my father would have easily found out what had happened to his precious only daughter.
Coming to the club had been a decent distraction. Seeing the stunning man watching me had been both exciting and slightly terrifying, even though it was obviously not my stalker, the man’s build entirely different. It still brought the ugly images back to the forefront of my mind. Grimacing, it was difficult not to be mesmerized by the man in the stunning dark suit, almost everyone else inside the club dressed like characters out of a freak show.
Yes, it was Mardi Gras season and I could be anyone behind a mask, but after the horrific event at the kink club, I wanted no part of dressing up like some festive parrot or worse. It didn’t matter I’d been named after my father’s favorite musician’s younger daughter, my dad a self-proclaimed Parrot-head; I wanted no part of pretense after the nightmare.
But if there was a single thing my father had taught me from an early age was that living in fear was no way to live out my life. I’d regroup. I’d become strong again. I’d learn to live the way I should, without the terror of being stalked or hunted down by predators.
So I was here, trying to pretend like my life could move on. Ginny was dead. Dead.
Yet I continued to have the creepy crawlies and the man staring down at me didn’t help in the least.
“Whew, girl. You know how to pick them. Oh, my. He is one hot man,” Miley cooed from beside me, almost spilling the drink in her hand. She’d started partying ahead of us given it had takenCarrie a full two hours to convince me to come out with them. It was better than staying all alone in a tiny space in the heart of New Orleans. Or so I’d thought. “If you don’t want him, I might go for a sinful experience.”
“Then you’ll need to step in line. Every other chick in the joint wants to be in his bed,” Carrie snarled.
I glanced at both girls, marveling at their garish masks. When I looked toward the balcony again, the chills turned into spontaneous combustion. I could swear the man was undressing me with his eyes, planning on all the devious things he’d do to me.
Unfortunately, the way the man was staring at me with his eyes piercing mine, I wasn’t certain if coming out hadn’t been a huge mistake. He was stunning in every way, but I couldn’t take the admiration even from afar. Everything gave me the creeps right now.
I’d been certain I’d been followed in the airport. Post-traumatic stress syndrome, I’d heard it called. Now I understood how damaging and debilitating it could be.
“He’s just average,” I told her, although every inch of me tingled, the electricity shocking the hell out of me. I was used to gorgeous men in my profession, although a huge majority of the male models I’d met had been eccentric, arrogant assholes stuck on themselves and their profoundly good looks.
They were also all pretty boys given the type of modeling I’d gotten inside. I preferred the bad boy kind, which is what had drawn me to the BDSM club in the first place. Well, one of the reasons. I had tastes some would consider perverted. Or maybe I’d grown bored with the usual scene in LA. Whatever the case,an attractive man in a suit was a dime a dozen where I came from.
“She needs her eyes checked,” Carrie piped in. “And don’t shy away now, girlfriend, he’s looking right at you. Why not take a tumble? He won’t bite.”
“You know exactly why.” I suddenly felt uncomfortable, so much so my hands were clammy. As soon as he turned his head, I took the opportunity to move out of the sparkling lights into the shadows where I felt more at ease.
“He didn’t follow you from LA,” Carrie said.
“I can’t believe you had a stalker,” Miley added. “I’m just so sorry, girl. I wish I could help more.”
“A murderer. The fucker murdered my roommate in cold blood. Remember?” It was something I’d never forget, but taking it out on either one of them by snapping wasn’t in good form. “I’m sorry. I’m still edgy.”
“Remember, girl. The monster isn’t here,” Carrie said, wrinkling her brow as she stared at me. “You’re safe.”
Safe. I wasn’t certain the word would ever mean the same thing again.
I took a deep breath, trying to remember my father’s words regarding fear.Fear is an everyday aspect of life. Use it to gain more control and fight the urge to slip into madness with everything you have in your soul. Then do something completely out of character to revitalize your life, to engage in electricity like standing in the middle of a thunderstorm, basking in the thudding drops of rain.
My father was many things, including a brutal businessman, but he had a passion for all things in life. Wine. Women. Cigars. Sex. At least two of his passions had killed his marriage to my mother.
He was wealthy, powerful, and highly sought after by men and women alike. And I hated not having a relationship with him any longer.
I allowed a slight smile, another quick glance at the dashing man. “You’re right. I know that. However, that doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into the deep end of the pool. Men annoy the fuck out of me.” That was the truth. I didn’t need a boy toy or some guy acting as if he could be the only man I needed. Or worse. But… A girl could fantasize. She could also take a taste. When I brushed my hand down the length of my neck, there was no doubt in my mind he was watching my every move. Carrie nudged me seconds later, rolling her eyes.
