“If what you want is to be chased and pinned and told when to breathe, I’ll give you that.But only on youryes.”Cassius's words linger in the air.My skin prickles.I think of the bathroom and howeasyit was to say yes to him.I think of all the men before.Boys, really, who never made me curious about the edges of myself.
How does Cassius see me?As naïve, untouched by the complexities of desire and intimacy that he seems so well-versed in?The thought sends a flush of self-consciousness through me, a silent echo of inadequacy.And then, there's the inevitable question that creeps into the corners of my mind, unwelcome yet persistent.How many women has he known?The thought of him with others, those who've undoubtedly shared his bed with more confidence, leaves a tight knot in my stomach.It's not jealousy, not exactly, but a keen awareness of my own inexperience laid bare by his casual observation.
“You know too much about me,” I say.“I know almost nothing about you.”
“That isn’t true, you know more about me than most.What do you want to know?”
“How long have you been watching me?”
“From the start.The store was the first day I saw you, the first time I went to you.But, I had my brother Atlas watching you before that because I was working.I’ve had eyes on you since the start.”
There’s a man leaning in my hallway mirror with a wet collar, water dripping down his cuffs, a black widow charm winking red from the back of his slit throat.His lips don’t move, but I hear him anyway.He sang me to sleep,the voice says, like the rush of a faucet.Cold water.Warm blood.Easy death.
I flinch.“I—uh—” My brain tries to file that under hangover hallucinations.It doesn’t fit.Nothing ever fits when the ghosts come.They’re worse lately.Like being near Cassius feeds them and they want me to starve.I think about that, but the enormity of it isn’t something I can process in the length of a phone call, so I switch back to his admission.Is it so bad that he wants to keep me safe?
He’s been stalking you.
Shut up.I answer my stupid self.
“Lindy?”His voice sharpens.“What is it?”
“Nothing,” I lie.If I sayghosts, the world tips.If I saya man you killed in a bathtub, he’ll go quiet in that surgical way that means he’s tracing the leak.Phone, friend, me.I shouldn’t know these things.Ican’tknow them.I can’t know what his hands have done.And he won’t believe me when I tell him the dead keep leaving me breadcrumbs.Soap in their hair, blood on their collars, truth on their tongues.He’ll never believe it came from the grave, and I’m terrified of what a man like him does to close a mouth.
They’re all telling me what Cassius did, not to scare me, though it’s doing that, but to turn me.They want me to tell.To betray Cassius before he ruins me.It’s only the Bolo-Hat who is encouraging me to trust Cassius and I’m not sure if that makes him the only one I should believe or the only one I should ignore.Ghosts pick sides, same as the living.
I’ve never been so conflicted in my entire life.I want to jump in with two feet.Get so wrapped up in this man that I lose myself completely.I want him to break me and put the pieces back together.I want to know what it feels like, soul-crushing love and heartbreak, and sex with a man who wants to explore things I’ve never even let myself think about.
He’ll ruin me.I know it.He probably does too.
The question isn’t will I let him, it’s will I live through it?
“Lindy,” Cassius interrupts my thoughts.“I have to go.I’m out of town for work and I have to walk into a meeting.”
“Where are you?”I realize I want him to be here.I know he said someone else was watching me, but I wish it were him.
“London,” Cassius says.He doesn’t offer any more details.“I’ll call you later.”
“For real this time?”I challenge.
“Yes.I’m not sure when, but Iwillcall.Don’t give up on me.”
“Be safe, Cassius.”
“Have a good weekend, my darling,” He says and then the phone goes dead.
The mirror man is gone, but something else lingers, another presence, off to my right.I don’t look at him directly, because if I do the details sharpen and they never blur again.I catch the edge of his profile anyway.A smile too wide, a tongue green with crushed herbs.Tasted like pizza,he says in a voice I recognize from a grocery aisle.He shoved the leaves in and I couldn’t breathe.I watched you and smiled.That’s all it took.
My stomach turns.I fold the blanket again, slower this time, corners kissing corners, and lock the deadbolt with two twists, then a third.I check the stove even though I haven’t cooked.Off, on, off.The ritual quiets the static.The emptiness after his voice is gone weighs heavy on my chest.I laze around and marathon movies all day.I send a text to Nathan letting him know I reached out to Cassius and I also text Victoria to make sure she lived through her hangover.I order Chinese food and eat it straight out of the container.
By nine o’clock, rain needles the windows.I peek through the curtain, counting drops on the glass until I hit nine and start over.A figure stands under the streetlight with his hood up, shoulders squared, soaked.Cassius’ watchdog I assume because he’s the only person out front of the apartment building in this rain.Let’s go find out.
I take the stairs two at a time, my anxiety screaming at me the entire descent that this is a terrible idea.I push the door open and wave the man over.No need for us both to be soaked.He steps into the apartment building entryway.
“Do you belong to Cassius?”I ask once the door shuts behind him.
“Wouldn’t word it that way, but yes, I work for the Ashenheart brothers.”
“I’m Melinda,” I say, though he obviously knows who I am.He’s tasked with watching me.
