Case Of The Ex

By Cherry Kay

 

Sabrina just wants to move on in her life and her career but she has one of those exes that just won't let go. With her ex James now in jail she feels she can now make a clean break in her life and focus on getting where she needs to be.

Only problem is, James has been let out early and he is intent on making her life hell unless she gets back with him.

The police aren't taking the situation seriously which leads her into the arms of charming detective Luca Guidotti. A tall, dark and handsome Italian- American man who promises he will protect her from any threats or dangers and by any means necessary....

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWWM Romance
• Release date: Feb 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524236120

Book preview

Chapter1

It was one of those nights again for Sabrina. No sleep. She’d doze off for a few seconds of bliss then wake up to a tapping sound at her bedroom window. She’d race out of her bed, check to see what it was and see nothing.

She’d then convince herself that it must have been a branch dragged to the window by a fierce wind. But she knew branches brushing against a window didn’t sound like that. This tapping sounded like James.

James had been to jail for stalking her. He didn’t take the break-up well. So, while in prison he managed to get messages to her. The messages didn’t sound like somebody who had just been jilted. He spoke to her as if nothing had happened, as if he didn’t fully understand what she wanted out of the relationship. So, Sabrina decided it was time to get blunt.

I want nothing to do with you. We are finished, she told him, visiting him in jail.

James found this hilarious.

You know you can’t live without me. You tried that, remember?

He was right. She tried to leave, tried to make a clean start with a new man. And she couldn’t think of anything else besides James. She thought about his hard hands climbing up her dress, inside her bra, her panties.

She thought about the way he could make her melt with a single kiss. The way their bodies felt pressed together, his firm chest brushing against her, his long arms roped around her body, keeping  her from falling as her knees grew weak.

This is different. We’re done now. Forever, she said.

James laughed again.

I mean it, she added.

Maybe you do, James replied. But you’ll change your mind. You always do. And I’ll be waiting, baby.

Without a word she got up and left the jail. She could hear his laughter as she left the building. And she kept hearing it on the drive back home. The laughter was cocky, arrogant. It was the laughter of somebody who knew he was right.

When James got out of jail, the phone calls began. They were fairly tame and innocent at first. He wanted to know how she was doing, when they could see each other again.

Please don’t call me again, she would say. She’d hear him laughing until she hung up. The calls soon stopped, but Sabrina was sure he wasn’t finished. There were weird pranks, food deliveries in the middle of the night, other odd things. Then came the tapping at the window. She decided that if bluntness didn’t work, it was time to go to the police before James really got scary.

The next morning she spent extra time getting ready. She knew a black woman at a police station would not be well received. Maybe they would think she was a prostitute or a drug runner’s girlfriend. She wanted to seem respectable, smart, trustworthy.

Feeling this wasn’t the proper time to show off her curves, she wore a loose-fitting beige pant suit. The cashmere scarf around the collar of her overcoat was a classy touch. Not that an uncivilized cop would notice something like that.

Sabrina didn’t figure the trip to the police station would be pleasant. But she didn’t plan on it being the nightmare that soon unfolded. The place was dank and cold. It smelled like diesel fuel and the men there were either uniformed officers who sneered at her like she was a criminal or raincoat-clad detectives who took several minutes to notice she was there.

Anything you need, ma’am? one of them asked her. He looked like an upright bulldog. Ugly and unfriendly.

I’d like to report a stalker, she said, in a frightened whisper.

I’m Brodey, he said, extending his hand. Have a seat.

She took a seat at his dusty, messy desk. Taking a glance around the office, she found nothing that calmed her rattled nerves in any way. Most of the cops were on the phone, either chuckling away or sternly answering questions like robots.

The walls were plastered with posters of sports stars in an effort to cover the cracking and peeling. There was a creepy, unfeeling vibe in the place that didn’t welcome in outsiders. Sabrina stared at a muscular, uniformed cop as he wrestled with a vending machine that refused to surrender his mini-Butterfinger.

Brodey snapped her back to attention with a sharp question:

Name? he yelled.

The stalker?

Yours, honey. What’s your name? I need to fill out a report.

Sabrina Hamilton. I think he’s been—

Address?

Um—I think all the information is already on file. He’s stalked me in the past and I had a restraining order on him.

And you have proof of his violating the order?

Well, I’m not sure if you could call it proof.

I’m sorry?

I mean—I’m not sure if it’s actually him.

If what’s actually him?

The tapping. He’s been tapping on my window. Or somebody has, and it’s pretty scary.

Look, lady, I’m gonna’ need something more concrete than this if you want him locked up. Sorry.

So you’re saying there’s nothing you can do?

Until you get some actual proof, yes.

She pointed to the bags under her eyes.

You want some proof? Check out these bags! I got bags under my eyes because I can’t sleep at night! I am worried about what he’s going to do next. Will he have a knife next time? Or maybe a gun? I’m afraid to leave my apartment because he might be waiting for me in the lobby or in the parking lot! But you can’t do anything until you get some proof! How about this: how about when he hacks my body to pieces or shoots me in the chest, they drag my body to the police station with his fingerprints all over it. Would that be enough proof?

The cops at the other desks were starting to stare. It was quiet, uncomfortable,  strange.

Lady, I’m gonna’ need you to calm down, Brodey said.

Well, I’m sorry, Detective. This is as calm as I can get when I got a maniac stalking me!

"Miss Hamilton,