Chapter 8: The Stranger

Emily

“What’s your name?” he asked in a smoothly flavored accent.

I really didn’t care to talk to this strange rich guy, whoever he is. I just wanted to be left alone but creepers abounded in this crazy town, and I was getting sick of running into them.

“Bethany,” I said, lying. I wasn’t going to give him my real name. If I did that, I might find him at my apartment with a bouquet of flowers, chocolates or even worse, if I gave him my number, which I wouldn’t do if he was the last douchebag on Earth, he might send me pictures of his d*ck like my first ex-boyfriend had after we broke up. The a*shole was stalking me to boot until I had to get a restraining order put on him.