he’s still out there, cold and heartless as ever, making money ending the lives of powerful men. But I like to think he still visits me every once in a while, checks in, ensures I’m okay, that I’m breathing, that I’m safe.
Water streams down into the sink as I soap the bowl and scrub it, the small window in front of me open to the yard outside my house. While turning to place the bowl in the drying rack, a flicker of motion catches my eye. Everything stops except my pulse which speeds faster, my eyes lifting without turning my head to see if I can catch it again.
There.
Behind a grouping of trees.
That shadow isn’t natural.
I’m careful to appear as if I don’t notice, even though every instinct I have is to run out and chase him down. But I know better, know he’ll slip away if I make it obvious I see him.
Rather than running out, I turn and pretend I’m getting ready for bed, flicking off lights in the rooms as I pass through them, making my way to my bedroom once the house is dark.
But then I backtrack and exit a side door on the other side of the house, tiptoeing out until I’m hidden by the plant life and bushes.
Creeping around, I peek out from the corner of the house, my breath held. I’m so scared to make a sound.
Dashing across the only open space until I reach the thin line of woods on the other side of my house, I creep slowly once I reach them.
Almost there.
So damn close.
My foot hits a raised root in the ground, and I go tumbling, an oomph sounding from my throat as I land face first in a pile of dry, dead leaves.
“You would make a shitty stalker, kid. I hope you realize that.”
I recognize the gritty voice just as Lincoln grabs the back of my shirt and tugs me up to my feet. Chuckling as I brush the leaves from my clothes, he steps around to look down at me.
“I’ve been tracking you since the second you walked out of your house. Although, I have to admit, the army crawl behind the bushes was amusing.”
His brown eyes glimmer with warmth when I look up at him, his arms stretching out as I lunge forward to give him a hug.
“I thought you were Ari,” I say against his chest.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not because he would never let you live that down.”
I step back from him and crane my neck to look up at his face. “Did he send you to spy on me?”
Something unsaid rolls behind his eyes and I feel a pang of worry about it, my heart constricting painfully in my chest.
“Has something happened to him?”
Ari’s job isn’t the safest, and although I know he can take care of himself, I’ve never considered the danger he was in. God knows how many people are looking for the person who has a habit of making men disappear.
“He’s still functional, but that’s about it. And he doesn’t know I’m here.”
Blinking at the cryptic statement, I wait for him to explain.
“Sit down, kid. Let’s chat.”
“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable if we go inside?”
He glances at the house and back to me. “That’s not a good idea. He’ll see us on his cameras.”
Annoyance flickers through me, but not surprise. “Of course he has cameras.”
“He’s Ari,” Lincoln explains, as if that should excuse the behavior.
All this time. An entire fucking year. And the asshole had an eye on me constantly. I don’t know why I even bothered to close my curtains.
“Sit.”
We settle down on the ground, and I lean back against the thick trunk of a tree.
“I’m not going to dance around what I came here to tell you. So, the long and short of it is you need to forgive Ari. I know he told you what he did, but if I know him well enough, he didn’t give you the full story. Most likely because he wanted to spare you the truth.”
I did forgive him, I think. At least, I remember telling him I did. It had been a dream, but he had to have been in my house that night. How else would I have woken up in my room when I knew damn well Grant found me? I had the lump on my skull to prove it the next morning, the scrape on my cheek, the pain.
It pisses me off to learn there’s more to