Page 36 of Claiming His Bunny
I should. I should be screaming and running away, but I don’t. I just take it all in stride. So what if I have a stalker who cleans my house and helps me with my cases and maybe sleeps in my b—
Nope. Still not going there.
The stalker’s notes are helpful, though. They hint that aside from the medication prescribed by her psychiatrist, Natalie Grahams is also buying stronger meds on the black market. Plus, she’s still drinking, despite visiting AA meetings every week.
If I could prove she’s addicted to illegal drugs, I could get her children removed from the household and have them safe in a foster family before their father returns from his oil rig gig and beats them all bloody once again.
My mysterious guardian stalker has proven himself useful again. He has a tidy, no-nonsense handwriting, too. I like men with legible handwriting. When I had to read anything Nick wrote, it felt like translating hieroglyphics.
If this man’s goal truly is to win me over, he’s…well, he’s succeeding.
Not wanting to spend the entire day cooped up in my house—and wondering if the stalker will visit or not—I text Beth. She mentioned wanting to spend some girl time, and I turned her down because having my nails done just isn’t my idea of a good time. However, it beats staying at home alone.
We meet up for lunch, and after a generous portion of heavenly delicious ravioli, we head “downtown.” In Bluebell Springs, there’s not much downtown to speak of, but I let Beth drag me around the few high-end boutiques they have here, even though I rarely shop at such expensive places myself.
I find a beautiful dress. It’s ruby-red, ankle-length, with slits on the sides that go all the way up to my hips. That, combined with a neckline plunging almost to my navel, means there’s no chance of wearing any kind of underwear under the dress. I love it, and I daresay it looks good on me, but one look at the price tag brings me back to reality.
“Maybe next year,” I sigh to myself as I take the dress off in the changing booth. When I have some money saved, I’ll be able to treat myself to something nice. As it stands, my current savings would barely cover the repairs of my car, should it break down. And a car is something I need. I don’t need this dress, no matter how gorgeous it is.
With my priorities set straight, I return the dress to the rack, scowling at myself in the mirror. Sometimes I hate how responsible I am.
Beth doesn’t even glance at the price tags as she carries several items to the checkout. When the cashier announces the eye-watering total, Beth merely grins and swipes her card through the reader. Having a rich fiancé does that to a person, I guess.
We drop her spoils off at her car and then head for a coffee. I order a cheesecake to go with it. I saved so much money by not buying the dress that I can afford to treat myself a little.
In between gossiping about our coworkers, Beth checks her phone. “Now, what did Jeremy send me this time?” she murmurs as she taps on the screen.
I suppress an eye roll. In the few hours we spent together, Jeremy has already sent Beth several memes, a video of a cute kitten, and a picture of roses arranged to spell “I LOVE U.” I’ve never met the man, but I bet he’s a hopeless romantic. And hopelessly in love with Beth.
“What the fuck?” she suddenly mutters, scowling at the screen. “Is that Doctor Adams?”
That catches my attention. Cheesecake forgotten, I scoot closer to Beth. “Benjamin Adams? Aaron’s father?” I ask. One look at the video playing on her phone answers the question. It’s indeed Dr. Arrogant, with Aaron, but what is he doing?
“She’s about to get torn apart by a monster,” the Adams in the video says. There are even captions running at the bottom of the video. “The basement monster. You know, the same one that lives in our basement.”
An incredibly gory movie is playing on the TV, and for some messed-up reason, Adams is forcing his son to watch while telling him that if he isn’t quiet, the monster in the basement will eat him. Enraged, I stare at the screen, tears welling in my eyes when Benjamin Adams drags Aaron to the basement and forces him inside.
“Did he just lock his son in the basement?” Beth asks, her face pale.
“After telling him there’s a monster there that’s going to eat him,” I add through my gritted teeth. Fuck, I knew there was something wrong with that family, but I never imagined Adams would be this fucked up. “What the fuck is wrong with that bastard?”
Beth shakes her head. “I…I don’t know. Doctor Adams is…well, everyone loves him here. He’s—”
“An upstanding citizen, I know,” I interrupt her, sneering. “Obviously.”
The video changes to show Benjamin Adams having breakfast. Alone. “After spending a night in his comfortable bed,” the caption reads, “Benjamin Adams sticks to his routine. He works out, showers, then eats his eggs and bacon. And where is his son?”
There’s a pause to let the question sink in before the video shows the locked basement door. “Alone in the basement, without light, food, or water. After his father told him there’s a monster that would eat him. Well, there is a monster in that house.” The image switches back to Adams, who’s now calmly drinking his coffee. “But it doesn’t live in the basement.”
The video turns black, a big red “SPEAK UP!” sign flashing over the screen before it ends.
“Fuck,” Beth mutters.
That’s one way to put it. “Where did Jeremy get the video?”
“It’s all over social media,” Beth answers even as she scrolls through the feed. “Look. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, YouTube. Whoever created the video made sure Adams wouldn’t be able to take it down before everyone in town saw it. And everyone is seeing it. Everyone.”
I look around, and indeed, several people around us are staring at their phones in disbelief. “They made sure it would spread like an avalanche,” I note. “That’s fucking brilliant.”
