No smoke. No flames in his eyes. And definitely no palpable heat…
He doesn’t even know why he’s arguing to keep me here, other than his need to flex control over someone he deems less significant than himself. It’s funny, really. He’s so desperate to be superior, he hasn’t even realized how insignificant he is.
“This is the end, Daniel.” I swing the door open, breathing in the scent of orange disinfectant and the neighbor’s Cajun dinner. “You don’t have to like it or agree with it, but you will accept it.”
“You’ll be back,” he tells me, his sour grin growing smug. “You’ll see how much you miss me, how much you need me, and you’ll come crawling back to me. But I won’t accept you without some groveling, so prepare?—”
“Do you hear yourself?” I rub my forehead as I nod. “Of course, you don’t. Silly of me to ask.”
I lean against the doorjamb for a moment and mirror his expression. When he frowns at my silent challenge, my grinturns genuine. He’s such a fucking moron. I’m not sure how I’ve dealt with him this long, but if I don’t leave, I almost fear I’ll kill him.
Almost.
My level of desperation hasn’t hit the murder threshold just yet… though it is rising at lightning speed.
“I don’t need you. I won’t miss you. And I damn sure won’t grovel. Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me.” I sigh as the ending comes into sight, settling against my skin like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. “Do us both a favor, and don’t come to find me, Daniel. I know you’ll want to, but this—” I point at my chest and his. “—between us is over.”
“Not yet, it isn’t,” he warns.
I simply slam the apartment door behind me and raise my voice to give him a warning of my own.
“Just let it die, Daniel.”
My phone screen finally dims, the latest text from Daniel sitting unread. I would love to say the last three weeks have been quiet and uneventful, but I won’t lie to myself.
This motherfucker will not leave me alone.
I’m thinking it might be time to kill him, but he never gets close enough for me to do the job cleanly. Short of shooting him from across a crowded street… I’m really just waiting.
Daniel is very good at being creepy; it’s not the suspenseful kind, either. It’s more like a peeping tom watching me while he stands behind a tree in the park that’s only half his width so he’s not actually covered at all.
His constant stalking has made work impossible. Unless it’s something I can do from home. My boss is understanding,though she also wants to kill him. Turning her loose on him sounds like a grand idea, but I don’t want her cleaning up when I’m capable of getting the job done.
This… Right here… This is what happens when you let an undercover project run for too long. I should have cut ties and disappeared when I found out my mark was going to be out of the country for months. It was a rookie mistake I won’t make again.
I sigh as I delete Daniel’s texts without reading them and block yet another number. He’s even made my glass of cabernet taste like ashes and regret.
What a waste of time and wine.
My phone buzzes in my hand, the screen lighting my dark living room as my best friend calls. I contemplate sending her to the dungeon to leave me a scathing voicemail, but that lasts all of three seconds before I answer.
“Hel—”
“Listen, bitch,” she says, spitting venom at me through the speaker. “Be a hermit when you’re seventy. We’re young and hot and horny?—”
“Just you.”
Romily ‘Roo’ Sokolov growls at my interruption, speaking in rapid Russian like she’s aggravated with me for not agreeing with her. After nearly two decades of friendship, I should have picked up on some of the phrases Roo uses, and their meanings, but I haven’t. I recognize them when she says them, though I have no idea what she’s calling me right now.
“And we’re going out tomorrow,” she continues in English.
“Just you…” I repeat. “Also, I didn’t catch any of the Russian. You wanna say it again? Or should I guess?”
“I sent you a link,” she says softly, like I’ll forget she’s making plans for me. “Did you open it?”
I frown, staring at myself in the dark reflection on my television, the city lights of Crimson Bay dancing across the surface. “No, I’m watching a movie.”
“No, you are not,” Roo argues, but she quickly whispers quiet nothings to her flavor of the week as if I can’t hear her flirting. “Just try it, Eris.”
