The Billionaire's Betrayed Love.

15: Hook And Bait.

ALMA

"The rare one."

A gasp spilled from my lips, and my grip around the steering wheel hardened. It felt like I'd fallen on my face upon a rocky part, and now I needed time to be conscious again. My face drained off all color, and somehow, my mouth just wouldn't close. Breathing felt like such a hard chore, and I couldn't feel my face.

"It.. it's him?" I stuttered, slightly turning to Velma as the chilliness of the car that I once enjoyed became my worst enemy. Still, it didn't stop the beads of cold sweat from forming on my forehead and rolling to my neck. "You met that man?"

I didn't let Velma give me a response when I frantically typed CARL HARRISON in the search icon, and a couple of his pictures appeared. Handsome son of a bitch. I shifted and turned the phone to her face. "Are you sure you met this person?"

Her eyes reflected the light from the screen as she nodded excitedly. "Yes! That's him, mama! Is he famous?"

Yes, that's him, mama! No. No! No! How much more could words haunt one? These echoed relentlessly in my brain, and for a second there, I had no idea what I should do. I wanted to bang on the steering wheel and yell since my worst nightmare had already begun to liven. After five years of fortification, he just managed to bump into her? At a museum!?

God, this was not happening! I was physically trembling, and that rational voice in my head that always calmed me down and offered me logical solutions was nowhere to be found. It was dimmed and had completely vanished into thin air, replaced by the vile screams that filled my headspace.

"Mama?" I felt her little hand on my thighs. "Are you okay?"

No, no. I wasn't. I didn't appreciate Carl's sneakiness and how he'd managed to meet you at a fucking museum! I'd tell her all these if she were six and clueless as to what was going on. So I shook my head gently and did my seatbelt. "I'm fine, sweetheart. I am just great."

I began driving, and jeez, it took too much to be normal, to be sane! Despite my rage, I couldn't believe I responsibly drove all the way home without crashing into another car on purpose or one of those billboards with Carl's stupid face on it! How could he do that? Was he stalking me? Does he know where I stay?

A shiver raced down my spine, and I tensed up, pressed against the steering wheel as I drove into the parking lot, more than eager to get inside and plot how to sort out my Carl issue without, you know, becoming a murderer. The walk to the apartment was tense, the nerve-wracking kind of tense, and I resorted to nodding curtly to everything Velma said, in order for her not to suspect that something was wrong.

What if Carl had someone following me? Could he do that? He wasn't the kind of man to. "Shut up, Alma! He kicked you out!" I muttered to myself. How could I be defending him in this situation?

"Did you say something?" Velma intoned, and I looked down at her. Great. I was going mad.

"No, no, I didn't. Let's go in." Like today was a cursed day, I heard footfalls coming from behind me, and it was approaching fast, so I just held Velma and walked faster.

Did they get into my apartment? What was happening? My pace increased, and so did Velma's. My heart was pumping twice faster than it should. Just as the footsteps grew closer, I swung my bag hard, and it came in strong contact with the face of the person walking behind me.

"Ahh!" They grunted, and I was immediately hit with the familiarity of the voice. No, it wasn't Carl or his cohorts. It was Rodney! Oh, no!

"Jeez! Fuck!" I blurted as I dropped my bag. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you. I panicked and..." I stuttered, my fingers all over his face as I tried to undo my mess. I must have forgotten that physical touch couldn't heal a red, swollen head.