“Uhhh…” His voice droned off for a minute. I heard the rustling of what I assumed was a potato-chip bag. “Yeah. What’s the address?”
I rattled off the address and the description of the car.
“Great. I’ll be there in an hour,” Kade said. “Keys in it?”
“Yeah. What am I dropping off for you?”
“Send five.”
“Done. Thanks.”
I disconnected the call and pocketed the phone before I picked up the binoculars, settling down to check in on Eden again. The flicker of the television painted her in soft light. She’d fallen asleep with a pillow under her head, blanket kicked halfway off. She looked small. Fragile. I wanted to pull the blanket over her shoulders as she slept. I kind of hated that she trusted me enough to sleep, and with that responsibility, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
Chapter thirteen
Eden
"Even Me"
Iwokeuponthe couch, half covered by the throw blanket I didn’t remember pulling over myself. My neck ached and my foot had gone numb. The TV was still on, some sitcom playing on a loop that felt offensive in how cheerful it was. I sat up slowly, pushing the hair from my face and blinking against the weak morning light. I groggily went to the window, peeking out of the curtain. I scanned the roof across the road but didn’t see any sign of Halo.
I frowned. He said he’d be watching; maybe he had moved out of sight. The disappointment I felt in the possibility of his absence surprised me. Last night, I had gotten the wild idea to give him a little bit of a show, just to see how he would react. I undressed with the light on, in full view of the window, knowing that he could be watching. And hewas. I wondered what he thought about it. Did it surprise him? Did he like what he saw?
I felt so… safe with him out there. There was no logic to it; he was dangerous, and he had proven that. A contract killer: the kind of man who ends lives and feels nothing.
But that couldn’t be true, could it? Such a damaged soul had to have feltsomethingin his past… enough pain that his heart had scarred his over.
“Get it together, Eden,” I muttered, face in my hands. “What is wrong with you?”
God. I was losing it.
I took a quick shower, washing away any remaining dirt from my wounds. I couldn’t help but think about the way he had gently blown cool breath on me when he thought he had burned me with the alcohol. There was something good in him, and I knew it.
I got dressed in a hurry, rushing out the door and down the stairs to the street below. I was going to be late. Late to open my own damn cafe.
“Well, it doesn’t open until you get there,” I whispered, riffling through my bag for my keys.I swear to God, if my head wasn’t attached…
I crossed the street, but several feet down, I was stopped in my tracks by what I saw.
A dark stain and smear on the sidewalk. I knew exactly what it was: blood. I had been looking at a similar stain on my way to work every day, where the man had been shot.
Dried, streaked and hidden in the cracks like someone had tried to wash it away before giving up.
My heart stuttered.
It hadn’t rained.
I looked up. The rooftop was still empty: no sign of him, no silhouette in the shadows. I knew what that blood meant. Had someone really come for me already? He’d killed them.For me. The nausea came fast and sharp, curling up from somewhere low in my gut. I had to talk my way through the vomit, keeping from throwing up on the sidewalk right there.
People were dying because of me. I wanted to believe he had a plan – that there was some method to the madness – but what if there wasn’t? What if I was just a match thrown into gasoline?
I bent down as something sparkled on the sidewalk. It was a diamond-encrusted tooth. Ahuman fucking tooth.
I squealed out loud. I didn’t mean to. I clutched my bag against my body and jogged down the street to put as much distance between myself and thatcrime sceneas I could.
Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe…
I had to breathe, taking long inhales through my nose, followed by exhales past my lips. I unlocked the cafe door with shaking hands, minutes later. The familiar atmosphere immediately put me at ease. Regret stretched out from behind the counter to greet me with a little trill. This was my safe space. I did all of my opening routine, humming to myself as I fell into a comfortable rhythm again. I wished that Jay was working today because I could talk to him about a movie, or a book, oranythingto make it feel like a more normal day.
