I groan.
And pocket the thing. It barely fits in my jeans pocket—especially now that something else is taking all the extra space—but I’m no quitter. I need this piece of her. When I look down again, an object peeks from underneath the pillow.
It’s the keychain I made for her.
My heart soars. The feeling is so unknown I fear I’m having a heart attack. I’m dizzy with joy and take a seat on the bed, toying with the wood of the carvings I made.
She’s sleeping with it.
Not a photo of her family or a token of their love. WhatImade. For her.
Keys rattle in the front door and I swear under my breath, running on silent feet towards the bathroom and lying down in the tub. As slowly as I can, I drive the curtains in front of it and hold my breath.
It can’t be Lucie. She has a three hour lecture on Genes and Environment Interplay. Whatever that means. And Milosh is on duty this morning. It must be Gemma.
Feet shuffle in the space. Then a vacuum starts. For Fuck’s sake. Did Dante ask the bodyguards to clean her space? I mean, it’s nice but it’s been ten days already and no one’s been here before. Except me today, but that’s different. I’m here to help. Fuck, I hope she won’t clean the bathroom.
The cleaning continues for what feels like hours. My fingers anxiously tap on my leg, cramps and needles travelling through my neck. My body is contorted, barely fitting in the small, enclosed space. The urge to move is unbearable, but I stay focused on my breath and wait it out.
When the front door locks again, I release a heavy sigh. I didn’t put a tracker on Milosh and Gemma’s phone yet and that’s my mistake. Going back to my flat across the street, I do exactly that, and check in on Lucie’s little dot on my screen. She’s moving towards her favourite cafe.
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t help myself.
With a hoodie on and a half mask covering the lower half of my face, I make my way to Petit Pain. People change sidewalks when I cross paths with them. I’m not really inconspicuous with my size and face covering but I’m not ready for Lucie to know I’m here.
Not yet.
Staying in the shadows is like a drug. And I’m addicted. Her silent and invisible protector.
Now that I saw the token of my affection—in her bed of all places—the monster inside my chest telling me that she’s mine is becoming louder. I need my fix and I need to see her from closer than across our street.
Just like I thought she would be, the blonde goddess sits in the front corner, a steaming cup of tea in front of her and her head buried in her computer, typing the keys frantically. She doesn’t see me enter. Nor does she lift her head when I take a spot in the opposite corner. From her place, she won’t be able to see me unless she shifts completely. Which she won’t. Once she is absorbed in a task, it’s very hard to get her to notice anything around her. Which is even more dangerous for her.
Milosh has finished his shift and Gemma sits not far from her, looking around, but far too relaxed for my liking. She doesn’t notice the man in a hoodie fixated on Lucie Ventura. If I didn’t know Lucie likes her and her husband, I’d have killed her for being so bad at her job.
My eyes don’t stray from my perfect sunshine, except she isn’t that sunshine-y anymore. Not like she pretended to be back in London. Without the pressure of performing that role, she’s letting herself be sad. And God, how sad she is. It’s breathtaking and makes me want to scoop her up in my arms and reassure her that she is loved and wanted. Well, at least wanted. Love isn’t inthe cards from a man like me. Pretty sure any man in my family is incapable of it.
I grin to myself when she raises her eyes to take in the other students and coffee aficionados around her. She feels my presence and shifts in her seat, looking left and right. But never enough that she sees me looking. We’ve played a game of cat and mouse the past few days. When it’s dark, I follow her if she sneaks out for a quick fish and chips. These evenings have been few and far between, Milosh and Gemma aren’t completely useless and always end up trailing after her, within minutes. And most of the time she forgets to eat anyway. Yet the same thrilling energy buzzes through me now.
If I wanted, I could take her. And no one would know. Getting rid of her bodyguards would just have to be an annoying side-step.
Gemma comes to her and asks if she’s okay, a frown in her severe brow. Point in the positive for the brunette but still not enough.
Lucie plasters a fake smile on her face, one that drops immediately after Gemma returns to her spot.
When will you show the world your thorns,Ružica moja?
SEVEN
LUCIE
“Hey, Lucie, right?”
I raise my head to look up at the girl who just spoke to me. All dressed in black with a pretty corseted belt over a velour dress, with heavy goth makeup on her brown skin, I recognise her from my Behavioural Psychology class. I nod and she sits, introducing herself as Mina.
“I thought I was a pariah or something,” I tell her.
“It’s just that some guy warned everyone that no one is to approach you or they’ll die.” She rolls her eyes like the promise of death is something ridiculous. “Most people took it literally.”
