A Stop in Time

A STOP IN TIME RC BOLDT CONTENTS About The Book Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 LOCAL NEWS STATION Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 LOCAL NEWS STATION Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Want to read a bonus chapter? About the Author Acknowledgments Copyright © 2023 by RC Boldt All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by trademark owners. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features in any media form are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if one of these terms are used in this work of fiction. Cover design: By Hang Le Visit my website at www.rcboldtbooks.com. Sign up for my mailing list: https://bit.ly/3raidhQ To Matty & A, You give me reasons each day to wish I had the power to stop time and bask in given moments with you. I love you both more than you could ever imagine. ABOUT THE BOOK I’ve been an outcast my whole life. If my scars don’t scare people away, my attitude certainly will. I don’t know what I am or how I got the power to stop time. What I do know is, there are far too many questions I need answers to. When I cross paths with a local gang member, his presence unravels a part of my past I never knew existed. At every turn, danger leaps closer, and I realize that stopping the killer will mean losing everything—including the first man I’ve ever loved. But I should’ve known better. We were never meant to be anything more than a brief stop in time. PROLOGUE I’m dying. The remaining dregs of life rapidly ebb, leaving me weaker by the second. People say that when one is on the brink of death, they see their life flash before their eyes. They’re right, because I see it all now. The ugly parts alongside the beautiful ones. His demand sounds as though it’s being ripped from somewhere deep within, ripe with agony. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ die, you hear me?!” But this is how it was destined to end. It’s better off this way. He’s better off without me. As my muscles go limp, I’m bombarded by the sensation of floating while a stray wisp of a thought lingers. It’s ironic that the person with the power to stop time wishes she had more of it. 1 MACKENZIE FORD Saturday Night Mandarin Springs, Florida Over Five Months Earlier This was a mistake. “Fuck, yeah. So fuckin’ good.” The cords of his neck are taut, and I know he’s close to getting off, which pisses me off even more. If I showed the fucker a YouTube video on how to touch a woman’s clit to get her off, guaranteed he wouldn’t give a shit. More than that, though, he closed his eyes the instant I insisted on getting on top, and I know why. I’m not a moron. When you’ve got scars running down part of your face and the side of your body, it’s not exactly a sight to behold. They tend to put people on edge. It makes them uncomfortable. I might have a fine-ass canvas of ink covering the bulk of it, from my left jawline down to my left ankle, but I still keep my shirt on. It’s easier; fewer probing questions to deal with. But there’s no getting around the section of my face that’s visible for everyone’s viewing pleasure. Or lack thereof. Whatever. The crazy thing is, if you take away my scars, I'm a solid nine—unless the guy hates tattoos, of course. Looking at my right side in a full-length mirror, I know what men see. They see a woman whose curves can’t be concealed by jeans and a plain T-shirt. With smooth, perfect skin, a straight nose, and full lips that Botox fans would die for, it creates the illusion that I’m beautiful. Until I turn. That’s when the guy realizes he’s getting a two instead of a nine, and disappointment sets in. “Aw, fuck yeah.” His grunted words are punctuated by my pussy sliding down on his cock. He’d rather do me doggy-style, so he doesn’t have to stare me in the face, but this position is better for me. And since he’s not the least bit concerned with anything other than getting his own rocks off, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Why do I even bother