A predator who isn’t yourself?
“You told me you didn’t want to go back home because you’re uncomfortable around Ramon. Tell me about that,” I ask, after opening the car door for her and buckling her seatbelt.
“You want to talk about Ramon right now?”
“Why not?”
“Bad memories.”
“Tell me,” I say as I start driving.
“Let me ask you something first: do you want to know about this because you’d rather I stay with Nora while Ethan is away this month? Because if that’s the case, don’t bother. Let’s save time. I can ask Martina—she’s my best friend—if her mom,Mrs. Isabel, will let me stay with them. I’m sure they’ll welcome me.”
“I’m not sending you away. You’re not going anywhere, Lilly, but I need to know what you’re afraid of.”
“I never said I was afraid of him.”
“Discomfort is one of fear’s names. It’s our sixth sense warning us when something’s not right.”
“You don’t strike me as the type who believes in intuition. You seem one hundred percent rational.”
“Maybe it’s something I inherited from one of my biological parents, I wouldn’t know. The fact is, intuition has kept me from being mur—” I pause, not quickly enough, and she asks:
“From being murdered?”
“I was a soldier,” I answer, steering the conversation away, because she has no idea what her brother and I really do.
“You sounded like you were talking in the present. I know you and Ethan are partners in the biggest security firm in the world, but I thought you guys just hired out bodyguards. Are your lives in danger?”
“Living is a risk.”
“You know what I meant.”
“Tell me about your stepfather, Lilly. My job isn’t something I can talk about.”
She looks at me, clearly upset, thinking I’m treating her like a child. “What could be so secret about a security company? It’s not like you’re the CIA or FBI.”
I stay quiet, and she seems to give up. With a sigh, she says: “It’s not just that I feel uncomfortable around Ramon. It’s that I haven’t felt safe in that house for a long time.”
“What do you mean? What’s there that makes you feel unsafe?”
She looks out at the road. “I don’t know if I can explain. It’s a feeling. Like walking down the street really late at night. That’s how I feel there. Like something dangerous is lurking, but I can’t see it. It always happened when I was sleeping. I’d wake up scared, like from a nightmare.”
“What happened when you were asleep?”
“Like I said, it was just a feeling. Some nights I . . .thought I heard breathing near me, and other times, a light, like a flash from a phone camera. But maybe it was just my imagination. Either way, I was terrified. I’d shut my eyes tight until it passed, and after a while, I’d go hide in the closet, behind the coats, and wait for daylight. One time, the maid found me asleep there and told my mom. When I explained why I was in the closet, Nora said I was too old to believe in ghosts. I was fifteen.”
My mind puts the pieces together quickly because the math is simple. But I don’t want to believe it—or I’ll kill him. Ramon will be the first man I ever kill outside of a mission. I force myself to listen to her until the end.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you? I know ghosts aren’t real.”
“No, I don’t think you’re crazy.”
The idea of someone hurting her brings out the rage I always keep on a tight leash. There aren’t enough filthy curses in the world for Nora in my head right now. How can a mother ignore her teenage daughter’s fear like that? The girl is beautiful, and there was a man in the house with no blood ties to her.
Fuck this. I’m losing my mind.
Yeah, Ramon.It has to be him. Who else would sneak into a girl’s room in the middle of the night just to watch her?
