Page 96 of Mile High Contract

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Page 96 of Mile High Contract

Her eyes meet mine and I hold her gaze, encouraging her to continue. “She showed me intimate photos of the two of you, then said she was your fiancée and was pregnant with your baby, and you were getting married in the fall. That you don’t...” She chokes a little on her words but continues, “You don’t love me and are just using me to get stuff out of your system before the wedding.” She looks down.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” I growl, knowing exactly who she’s talking about. “Curly blonde hair? Skinny?”

She bites her lip and nods.

I pull out my phone and click on Richelle’s Facebook page. I turn the screen toward her. “Is this her?”

She lifts her gaze and stares at my phone, nodding. “I think so. It was dark. She was tall, had on high heels.”

“That’s my—”

“Crazy ex. Yes, she said you’d say that. But that she’s not. That you’ve been leading a double life and you two were happy together.”

I set the phone down her on rolling food tray and sit on the edge of her bed. I don’t touch her, but I look into her face. “And what do you believe?”

She bites her lip and lifts one shoulder weakly. “I don’t know, Carter. She was pretty convincing.”

“And when have I had time to lead a double life? Huh?” I ask, on the verge of deranged laughter. “I spend every spare moment with you, and when we’re not together, I’m working.”

“I know... Christa pointed that out. I’m just confused and it hurt me. How did she even find me?” she mutters.

“Richelle is very resourceful and is also mental. She probably followed me when I dropped you off one time. Who knows? I’ll be calling my attorney to get a restraining order for the both of us from her.”

Taryn looks up at me, a spark of hope in her eyes. “Really?”

Something dawns on me, so I pick up my phone from the desk. I blocked her number but I still have the texts. I pull them up and hand her the phone. “Read those.”

Staring at me, she slowly takes it from me, seeming hesitant to read them, but eventually she does.

“She says she’s pregnant right here in this text,” she points out.

I resist an immature eyeroll and say, “Keep reading.”

She reads the multiple lines of texts aloud:

“My sister’s getting married in September and I’m the maid of honor! Will you come with me? I need a date.

“I hope your bridesmaid dress fits since you’ll be big as a house by then.”

She shoots me a judgmental look.

“Go on,” I say.

“I’m not pregnant anymore. I lost the baby. Due to stress since you wouldn’t do anything to help me. I was in the hospital, you know.

“Well, seven months along is pretty far along to lose the baby. Do you have a death certificate?

“I was only two months along!

“Sorry to hear that. I hope you told the father of the baby, since it wasn’t me.”

Taryn looks at me. “Two months along?”

“Taryn, Richelle and I broke up six months before that conversation. Not only could she not have been pregnant with my child, I don’t believe she ever was pregnant at all.” I stand up. “And, well, if she is now, it’s not my problem. She’s a borderline stalker and I’m honestly not surprised at all she pulled this BS.”

“She did seem a little unhinged.”

I chuckle. “That’s a perfect word to describe her.”




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