Chapter Four
Brynn
ANOTHER TWO WEEKS have passed without any sign of the biker showing up at Turn the Page again.
I’ve used the time to get a lot of work done in my book and this time there’s very little I’ve changed or removed from what I’ve already written.
My Mimi has called me a few more times and I’ve talked to her each time.
She’s getting pushier about finding out what’s going on with me.
I’m not very good at hiding when things bother me over the phone apparently.
Especially when she video chats me and can see the fear filling my eyes because I’ve just gotten something from my stalker.
The last thing he sent me were actual words from the book I’ve been working on so hard at the book store.
I’ve searched all over the store and there’s no way he could’ve gotten behind me without me knowing he was there.
The chair I sit in is a little less than two feet from the wall and there’s no bookshelves or anything at my back.
In my section of the store, bookshelves are actually more than ten feet away from where I sit.
I’ve got an outlet right behind me so I can plug my laptop in, the chair is easily moveable and the table is small enough for my laptop, coffee, and muffin but not much else.
The notebook I keep with me filled with ideas and notes about what’s been written so far rests on my lap and my pencil is tucked behind my ear or sticking out of my hair when I have it up in a messy bun.
My dad and uncle showed me how to spot cameras in my home and anywhere I go as well.
There aren’t any that have been placed where I sit in Turn the Page.
This leads my mind to going over every single possible place he could’ve gotten a glimpse at my work in progress.
The only possible way this fucker could’ve seen any of my work is by getting in my house.
Somehow they would’ve had to bypass my security system and make sure it didn’t alert the cops or other emergency services.
My Mimi just happened to call me when that realization shook me to my core.
I wanted to immediately get up and search my house for any sign someone had been inside, but I had to get through the conversation with her before I could do that.
When we were finally off the phone, I went through each room of my house and didn’t leave a single inch untouched or looked at.
Every dark crevice was searched and it turned up nothing.
At least until I got to my bedroom and discovered the horrible scene in front of me.
My bedding was shredded and in the middle of the bed was a puddle of cum.
A pair of panties that had been in my dirty laundry was left next to the puddle and I gagged while trying to remain on my feet.
Every pair of panties from my laundry basket had been taken and the drawer with my clean underwear and bras was open with various colors of material hanging over the side of the drawer and in piles on the floor at my feet.
More pictures of me all over Pine View were left behind in a trail from my closet out to my bed and then into my bathroom.
A message was left on my mirror in my red lipstick.
You are mine.
Every move you make is monitored and I see everything.
Enjoy the gift I left behind.
All my love.
My entire body was trembling and I couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening.
Tears fill my eyes and spill over my lashes to roll down my face.
I drop to my knees in the middle of my bathroom and don’t have the energy to get back up.
This is getting to be too fucking much and I don’t know if I should truly bring someone in to help me.
My dad is going to lose his mind along with the rest of the men in my family once they find out.
Still, I don’t go get my phone to make the call.
If I call in the police, they might not do anything at all.
I know they can take samples to try and find out who is responsible from what’s been left on my bed and they can dust for fingerprints, but that’s not necessarily going to do anything either.
At the very least, the person finds out I’ve gone to the police and gets pissed off. If they can’t find him, he’ll still be free to continue stalking me only he might actually take me and no one will know where the fuck I am.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I can finally get off my knees.
Instead of taking care of the mess that’s been left behind, I leave the room and close the door behind me.
I’ll need to go in there to get clothes, but I honestly don’t want to touch anything that’s been in there while he was digging through my belongings.
I’ve also got video cameras up around the house and know I have to eventually go through them to determine how he got inside the house, but I don’t have it in me to do that right this minute.
Instead, I go back to the living room and make sure my gun is still under the couch and loaded.
Keeping it close by, I lay down and pull the blanket from the back of the couch over me and let my eyes slide closed.
S itting in the book store at the same table I always occupy, I’m lost in my work as the seat across from me is pulled out.
Startled, I look up to find the same biker sitting across from me with a smirk on his face.
“Hey, Kitten.
Did you miss me?”
he asks me, as a blush covers my cheeks and I lose my train of thought.
“Miss you? Why would I miss you?”
I return, my voice breathy sounding as I look up at him.
Yes, even sitting down I have to look up to the man across from me.
This is the part of myself I don’t like all that much.
My height means I’m shorter than everyone around me.
I was always the shortest of the kids in the club and even today I get carded every single place I go because no one believes I’m twenty-one and can drink.
Add on the fact that I have curves I can’t seem to lose no matter how often I workout and diet, and I feel like I’m some kind of freak because of the way I look.
“Admit it that you missed me.
I told you the last time we met that I’m a guy who goes after what I want and I want to go on a date with you,”
he says, the same smirk in place as he leans back in the chair and gets comfortable like he’ll be here a while.
“And then you disappeared without a trace until today.
Seems as though something had your attention over the last few weeks,”
I tell him, giving away more than what I want with my words.
“It’s not what you think.
I was in a bike crash a while ago and I’m goin’ through physical therapy.
The days after those sessions aren’t very good for me and I’ve had more testin’ and stuff done because of my therapist.
That’s where my attention’s been,”
he informs me, letting me see his truth as he continues to look me in the eyes while we talk.
“You don’t have a book you’re readin’ today.”
“No.
Today my focus has been on work.
Well, until you showed up,”
I tell him, my own smirk in place as he moves his arms and I watch the ink covering his skin ripple with the movement.
“Do you need me to leave? I didn’t realize you were workin’,”
he asks me, serious as he starts to stand from the chair he took over.
“No.
I’m about done for the day.
Do you know the results of the images or whatever you had done?”
I ask him, closing my laptop so no one can see what I’m writing.
It seems as if my leading man has taken on the appearance of a certain biker sitting across from me.
The last thing I need to do is have this guy figure out I have been thinking about him and it’s so bad that it’s transferred over to my story.
He’s a biker and I know these men have big enough egos and he doesn’t need me to feed his anymore.
“Not yet.
I should have them next week.
I’ll go back to see the doctor and then my physical therapist will put the results into a new therapy plan if that’s what’s needed for me.
I just hate waitin’ for these things.
I should be used to it after all this time, but it never fails that I end up drivin’ everyone around me crazy because I want the results,”
he answers me, a smile on his face because he’s telling me more about himself than what he wants to divulge.
“I can’t imagine waiting for test results that have the power to change what I’ve been doing.
Thankfully I’ve never been in the position you’re currently in.
Though I know plenty of guys who have been taken off their bikes for various reasons,”
I tell him, looking at the cut covering his torso.
“Can you ride your bike still?”
“Yeah.
I couldn’t in the beginnin’ when I was healin’.
Then it was gettin’ over the mental aspect of the accident.
It took my dad and uncle to get me back on a bike at all,”
he answers, his cheeks turning a slight shade of red at his admission.
I continue to take in his cut and the flash adorning his position in the club and his road name.
His road name is King and he’s the tech guy for the Phantom Bastards.
He’s good with computers and could be useful to me if things continue to escalate with my stalker.
Maybe he knows the security company who installed my system.
I’ve heard the club has one, but I don’t think they’re the ones who put my system or upgrades in.
In fact, I know they aren’t because I didn’t want anyone from another club in my home and seeing the pictures of my family members that fill the walls.
“I’m glad you had them at your back to help you get back on and ride.
I’ve heard my family say that it’s in your blood and being kept off a bike is like losing a limb or something,”
I tell him, still not letting him know that my family members belong to a club.
“I get where they’re comin’ from.
I would go out in the middle of the night and sit on my bike, but that’s as far as I’d take it.
When it came to startin’ the bike or movin’ it even an inch, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
The day we were gettin’ patched into the club and losin’ our Prospect status, I turned down the full patch.
My uncle, Dad, and club President pulled me into the office and wanted to know what the hell was goin’ on with me.
I kept it from everyone that I couldn’t start my bike and ride any longer.
With my injuries, it wasn’t hard to hide the fact because I took a cage more often than not if we had to do anythin’.
That was the day my dad and uncle took me out behind the clubhouse and got me ridin’ again,”
he explains to me as I lean forward and hang on every single word he tells me.
“How do you like living in Pine View?”
I ask him, knowing the club is kind of new in this area.
“It’s different.
I grew up in a small town where essentially everyone knew everyone else.
We were friends with a few other clubs and those are the people we all grew up around.
Here, we don’t know anyone and are still tryin’ to make a name for ourselves with the people surroundin’ us.
Not everyone wants us here and that’s okay.
We’re used to that.
We don’t want to cause trouble here or do anythin’ that has the potential to hurt anyone in Pine View.
How do you like it? Did you grow up here?”
“No.
I’m from a small city.
One that’s smaller than Pine View.
I haven’t even been in Pine View for a year.
I’m finding my way and navigating living on my own away from my family,”
I answer him honestly before taking a sip of my coffee and leaning back in my chair again.
“I’m lucky in that regard.
Most of the people I call my family are here with me.
I’m not completely alone.
I would imagine it’s gotta be hard to start over in some city where you don’t know anyone and have no one at your side.
Is your family big?”
he asks me, trying to get me to divulge more personal details.
“It’s fairly large.
I’ve got a ton of cousins, a brother and sister, and lots of aunts and uncles.
Everyone is pretty close and I kind of always felt like the odd man out if that makes sense,”
I tell him, still not giving him a lot of personal information.
Knowing that this guy is the tech man for his club, I know he’ll be able to find out anything about me with a few keystrokes.
Even if I don’t know in detail what the guys in the club do, it’s not hard for me to realize and understand what the tech men are there for.
My grandpa has one in his club and they rely on him for a lot of stuff.
Just like I’m sure the Phantom Bastards rely on King for a ton of stuff they can’t do on their own.
“So, are you gonna tell me your name this time? Or do I have to try and figure it out on my own?”
he asks me, his voice full of laughter as I look up at him.
“I’m Brynn.
I’m not giving you a last name right now though.
That’s something you’ll have to work for, biker,”
I answer him, knowing it will be harder for him to find any information about me from just my first name.
“Brynn, I’m Kingston.
My road name is King, but you can call me Kingston if you want to,”
he tells me and I want to laugh at the fact that they just shortened his real name for his biker name.
I don’t because it’s not unheard of.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kingston. Again,”
I tell him with a smile on my face.
“So, are you ever gonna let me take you out so we can talk about books?”
Kingston asks, his voice going serious as he continues to look at me.
“You really want to talk about books?”
I question him, raising my eyebrow because I don’t believe it for a second.
“Yeah.
Just because I’m a guy and a biker doesn’t mean I don’t like books.
I can’t guarantee that I’ve ever read anythin’ you have, but I do know a few authors and people in the book world.
A woman from a club we’re friends with is an author and my mom is involved in the book community as well.
Her name is Kim Stevens.
She’s been designin’ book covers, makin’ logos, and designin’ websites for authors for as long as I can remember.
It allows her to work from home and on a schedule that’s all her own,”
King informs me and my jaw about drops in awe and shock because I’ve heard of Kim Stevens and have seen her work on various social media outlets.
“Are you kidding me?”
I ask him, not being able to contain my astonishment at who his mom is.
“Not at all.
I take it you’ve heard of her before?”
“Yeah.
I’ve seen her work posted on social media.
She’s amazing and so damn talented,”
I tell him, having to force myself not to continue speaking because I’ll tell Kingston something no one knows about me.
“You look like you wanna say more,”
he states, waiting for me to respond.
“Not at all.
I’m just in awe that you know her is all,”
I fib, because that is the truth but not the complete truth.
“So, Kitten, are you gonna say yes to a date with me? It will be very casual and we can go wherever you want and eat what you want.
I’m not a picky guy and will gladly sit almost anywhere as long as the food is good.
I think you’ve enjoyed sittin’ here with me and talkin’ up to this point,”
he asks me, making it really hard to say no to him.
“Okay, Kingston.
One date.
I told you I don’t date bikers and that’s not a lie,”
I answer him and realize that I truly want to go out with this guy.
He’s funny, smart, willing to give up personal details of his life even though it’s not information that necessarily puts him in the best light.
After getting my number, Kingston walks away from me and lets me get back to work.
Unfortunately, I’m unable to concentrate on anything more regarding my story.
All I can think about is going out with Kingston and the stalker and what he’s done at my house.
But, I’m not ready to head home either.
When I’m there, I’m alone and that’s the last thing I want to be right now.
So, I pack up my things, grab my bag before tossing my garbage away, and heading over to the shelves of books to browse anything new that’s been brought in since I last looked.
It’s a way to extend my stay away from home and give me time to plan my next move.
Something I have no clue about right now.