Charlotte Jameson has overcome the cruelest of tragedies, but nothing prepares her to face a stalker.
The mysterious BMW following her isn't the only uncertainty tormenting her. She is torn between the man who has always been there for her as he pu...
The next couple of weeks after I got out of the hospital went by with little excitement. It was already almost Christmas, and I had all but moved into Andrew's condo downtown. I couldn't stand to be in my house anymore, as sad as that made me. It broke my heart to not be able to be in the home my parents had left to me, but every time I stepped foot inside, all I could see was Liam standing over me screaming in my face, trying to make me go down on him, or knocking my head against the fireplace. In fact, there was a bloodstain on the brick that even my Aunt Rose wasn't able to get out—and she was a master cleaner; my mom used to always talk about how ridiculous she was about her house being spotless. I'd had countless breakdowns regarding the miscarriage. The holiday season was hard enough without all this, so staying with Andrew was for the best.
Julia had come home from the hospital shortly after I did, and I saw her almost every day. She was recovering well, but loathed the cast and crutches. "My armpits feel like they're on fire," she'd complain. I had to admit, though; it was good to see her back to her old, sassy self. She had even gone back to work in the last week, which had helped in the transition back to normal.
Me? I hadn't quite felt normal yet. I went back to work the first week in December, against Andrew and my Aunt Rose's wishes. They both thought I needed to stay out at least another week, but I was tired of being stuck in the condo all the time. Andrew had stayed home for a couple days, but the bank doesn't run too well without him, so he had to get back. And I was missing my coworkers and kids, so I thought it was time.
My coworkers had a million questions, most of which I answered with an "I don't want to talk about it," or "I'll tell you about it later." The only one I confided in was Roberta. And I had to tell her the entire story from the very beginning. She parked her chair in my office and listened to everything from beginning to end and even cried when I told her about the miscarriage.
"My God, Charlotte. That's one insane story," she breathed when I was finished. "Have they found him yet?"
I shook my head. And I was starting to think they never would.
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"It's so freaking cold out here!" I yelped as we walked out the door of the condo and onto the sidewalk. I pulled my scarf up over my mouth and nose and shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat.
Andrew slid up next to me and looped his arm into mine. I smiled up at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair blew straight up from the wind. I laughed, and he smoothed it down. "Naw, it's cute!" I insisted, tousling it back up. He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm sure it's a good look."
"Where are we going?" I asked, pulling my knit stocking cap further down over my ears.
"I just thought we'd take a walk; it's so nice out, right?"
"Oh, yeah," I said, bumping him with my hip as we walked under the train trestle.
