Free The Stalker Chronicles by Electa Rome Parks Page A

head.
    â€œI know you have been through a lot over the years in your short life with my crazy-ass sister, but you are safe now. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” the girl barely whispered.
    â€œNo one will hurt you again. I’ve never had any children of my own, and I always wanted a beautiful girl just like you.”
    There wasn’t a response.
    â€œPilar? Please look at me,” the aunt said with a warm smile.
    The girl slowly looked up with big, innocent, but sad eyes, which were void of any light or joy. Her eyes revealed sadness and knowing beyond her years.
    â€œNow that your mama is in jail and will be for a while, I pray she’ll finally get some much-needed help, but I want you to know you can come to me for anything. I will never let anyone or anything hurt you ever again. I promise, and I’ll take that to my grave.” The aunt had spoken with the caseworker and had discovered the details of the file with a sense of horror and shame. Information was disclosed that had literally made her sick to her stomach. She’d barely made it to the restroom before losing her lunch. That was weeks ago.
    â€œOkay,” the girl said, with more conviction this time.
    The aunt with the easy smile and loving heart pulled the girl to her for another big, comforting hug. Many more would follow during their time together. Her hugs would be like the treasure at the end of a rainbow.
    For the first time in her life, the girl felt safe and protected. She would experience the feeling of love, unconditional love, and she would thrive. Her eyes would take on a bright light, and her soul would flourish. However, a few years later, death’s hand would steal it all away like a thief in the night. From that she would learn a valuable life lesson, that love is fleeting and you have to hold on to it as tight as you can, while you can.

Chapter 14
    Pilar
    I waited, watched, and listened patiently, double-checked my watch a few times. Patience was my middle name. This was the fun part, lying in wait for the prey to appear, not suspecting a thing. They were like calves being led to the slaughterhouse. Dressed in all black, from head to toe, with my hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, I strained to hear outside movement from inside the compact storage closet.
    I had been waiting for close to an hour already. It didn’t matter, because I had the patience of Job from the Bible. I knew it wouldn’t be much longer, based on my observations from the earlier part of the week. Like I said, most people were creatures of habit. Bailey was no exception.
    I had watched her comings and goings from my patio and had listened from the apartment next to hers—the one I had a three-month rental agreement on. I knew her little routine like the back of my hand. And just like I thought, she was a slut, plain and simple. Almost every other night, except for last night, a different man had his dick inside her. She claimed to love Xavier, based on the phone conversations I had listened in on, but just like in the Jay-Z song, she was just like a bus route, with everybody riding her.
    Is that what Xavier really wanted or needed in his life? I could have been so good for him. I truly loved him. I loved him more than I loved myself, but somewhere deep inside, I realized it was too late for us. Some men would never be marriage material. Xavier would never change because he would always be controlled by the head in his pants. It was what it was.
    Suddenly, I was pulled out of my reverie when I heard the sound of a door opening and closing. Then I heard the sound of movement, footsteps coming my way. That was my clue to ease the door of my hiding place, a hallway storage closet between our apartments, open a couple of inches wider and to adjust the black mask with eye, nose, and mouth openings over my head.
    I cautiously peeked out. I had come too far to mess this up because of human error on my end. Yeah, that was the slut. Xavier