Page 87 of Searching for Bristol
Rocky: It’s impossible to work with a hard-on, Punky.
Bristol: Sorry. Not. Be careful today. Let me know when you’re on your way home?
Rocky: I will. Glad you had a good meeting.
Bristol: Me too.
Rocky: Although I had no doubt that you would. You fit here, Bristol. I’ll see you in a few hours.
Bristol: Later.
It was so hard not to type “I love you.” The words were on the tip of her tongue, and she wasn’t sure why she was holding back. Hell, they were planning on officially moving in together. Saying she loved him didn’t seem too fast compared to that. But since he hadn’t said it yet, she didn’t want to either. Again, stupid. She was an adult.
Shaking her head in disgust with herself, Bristol threw her phone on the counter and opened the cabinet. She had plenty of time to make the cake, but she wanted to make sure it cooled completely before she put on the frosting, otherwise it would melt and look funny. She might not be as good a baker as Finley, but she was determined to have something amazing waiting for Rocky when he got home from what was obviously a tough day at work.
An hour and a half later, she’d just taken the cake from the oven when there was a knock on her door. The apartment smelled wonderful; there was nothing like the scent of a fresh-baked cake…except maybe fresh-baked bread.
Bristol wiped her hands on a dishtowel then headed for the door. She had no idea who it could be, but wouldn’t be surprised to see Lilly or maybe even Sandra. The diner owner had stopped by a few times with new dishes she wanted to try out for the diner. It was somewhat of a lame excuse, but Bristol didn’t mind. If Sandra wanted to come see her, she was always happy for a visit.
She opened the door, her brows furrowing briefly. Luke…? No, Lance. That was his name.
“Hi! Sorry to bug you,” he said cheerfully. “And I know this sounds completely cheesy and trite, but I was putting together a roast for my dinner and realized I didn’t have any carrots to go in the stew. I could go down to the store, but I thought maybe I’d see if you had any I could throw in? I’ve been lost in my manuscript and forgot to stock up. I can give you a couple bucks, if you’re able to help me out.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, I’m sure I can spare a few. We just went to the store yesterday.” Bristol smiled at her neighbor. She hadn’t talked to him in a couple of weeks, but she’d seen him around. He lived three doors down, after all, and since Fallport wasn’t exactly a huge city, she saw him out and about as well.
“Thank you so much,” he said with a huge smile. “Here, let me give you some money for your trouble.”
“No, really, it’s okay,” Bristol said as he reached for his back pocket.
But he didn’t pull out his wallet; he had a piece of fabric in his hand.
Before she could even wrap her mind around what he was doing, Lance stepped forward and grabbed her around the waist. He covered her nose and mouth with the fabric, pressing down hard.
Bristol immediately began to struggle, but it was useless. Lance was too big. She tried to kick him with her casted leg, but he merely widened his stance. He pushed her against the wall just inside the apartment and smiled down at her.
It was an eerie, serene grin. He didn’t seem stressed out or anxious in any way.
“Just let it happen,” he said in a low tone. “Breathe in, poppet. That’s it. I’ve got you.”
Too late, Bristol realized what was happening. The cloth against her face was wet. It was such a cliché to be knocked out by chloroform, or whatever drug her neighbor had soaked into the fabric. But it was happening right now. She felt lethargic and her limbs suddenly seemed as if they weighed twenty pounds each. When she blinked, it took all her strength to force her eyes to open again.
“You really shouldn’t open your door to strangers, poppet. It’s just not safe.”
She wanted to laugh in derision. Scream at the man and ask him what the hell he was doing, but she couldn’t speak at all with his hand over her mouth, and she was losing consciousness.
Lance lifted her off her feet but didn’t remove the cloth from over her nose and mouth. He backed out of her apartment and headed down the walkway.
When they reached his apartment, he opened the door and carried her inside. The last thing Bristol was aware of was Lance murmuring to her as he entered a room that was dark as night. He lay her on a bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
“Sleep, poppet. I’m here. Your new life has started.”
* * *
Rocky was hot, tired, and irritated. The foundation he was working on was more screwed up than he’d realized. It was going to take a lot of work to fix what time and nature had done to the old house. But he was also proud of what he’d been able to accomplish so far. He’d need to ask Ethan to help in the near future, as there were some things he couldn’t do by himself, but he knew his brother wouldn’t have any problem lending a hand.
After starting his Tahoe and blasting the air conditioning, Rocky reached for his phone. He shot off a text to Bristol, asking how the rest of her day had gone and telling her he was about to head back to the apartment.
To his surprise, she didn’t respond. Not only that, but he didn’t see a read receipt pop up under his message.
