Happiness.
How fucking ridiculous.
I’m glad this thing with Damon is over. He could never live in my world. It’s one thing to fuck around with me after dark for a few months but making it real and official would be insane. I don’t belong in his world and I sure as hell can’t have him trampling all over mine.
Yeah, it’s good that it’s over. I’m glad he ended it, so I didn’t have to. It will be good for me to get my head out of my ass and get back to work. I’ve been turning jobs down so I could be home in case he came by.
If that’s not pathetic, I don’t know what is.
I need to get a grip. No piece of ass is good enough to lose everything I’ve spent my whole life building.
It’s time to knuckle down. I might still be able to pick up the job I just did surveillance for. I turned it down because I felt too distracted, but maybe I should take it. It’s out of town. Might be good for me to get away for a while. Might be what I need. A change of scene should clear my head.
*
So, I didn’t end up taking the job after all. Not for any major reason, just because I didn’t want to leave my apartment unattended in case Damon comes back. I know he probably won’t, it’s just that if he does, there’s no way of telling what he’d do to my place, or to my books. I’ve spent years collecting them. It would be impossible to replace all of them. I really couldn’t handle him getting in here and causing carnage. I’ve suffered enough from the fact that I’ve never managed to find the twelfth book he moved. It’s bad enough knowing it’s out of place. It keeps me awake in the night and when I’m up, I hear things. A car on the street. Footsteps near my door.
I was up four times last night because of the things I heard. Each time, I bolted upright, and rushed to the door. I wrenched it open, only to see nothing but a deserted hallway.
I’m tired today.
I’m sitting at my window, looking out. It’s dumb of me because it’s ten AM and I know he won’t turn up here in broad daylight. Still, I keep an eye on the street and I check my phone again. I’ve already done it twice today but to be sure, I check it again. I check each and every social media outlet he’s on. Personal accounts and business. I check the incognito username he sometimes uses to shit post on Reddit. I check old chatroom handles he hasn’t used since he was a teen.
I come up with nothing.
It’s been three days since he was here, and he hasn’t posted a thing. Not a word. Not a picture. It’s freaking me out. It’s very, very unlike him.
*
I decide to go for a run to clear my head. It’s what I need. I need to get back into my normal routine of eating healthily and working out. Keeping fit and strong has been part of my lifestyle since I joined the military. Other than when I’m sick, I never take time off. No wonder I’m feeling slow and sluggish. I need to get myself back on track. I head out and run towards the park near my place. I feel slow. My legs feel heavy. It’s the kind of run that makes me understand why a lot of people say they hate running. My lungs burn and my head pounds. It doesn’t stop me; I push through it because I’m not most people and I don’t quit when things get hard. When things get hard, I hit back even harder.
I stop to check my phone again when I get to a subway entrance close to my place. Damon still hasn’t posted. As soon as I see that, I head into the subway and get the first train that’s headed in his direction. It isn’t like him. Something could be wrong. Really wrong. If something is wrong, I need to be on top of it. Like it or not, he and I have done some illegal shit together. If something’s wrong with him, I need to get in front of it so I can protect myself.
*
I loiter outside his building for a while, biding my time. When I see the security guard heading out for a cigarette, I slip into the building through the service entrance.
Relax. I’m going to touch him.
All I’m going to do is borrow the security video that covers the lobby and main elevator. I let myself into the security guard’s office. It’s a small room with an abundance of screens on the wall. Each one captures a particular zone of the building. As it’s not my first time here, I find what I need quickly. I’m out long before the guard gets back from his break. I head home and watch the tape, forwarding through everything that doesn’t have blonde hair, blue eyes and a spiteful demeanor.
Damon has come and gone twice in the past twenty-four hours. Both times he was with Lacey. Both times, her face looked like thunder. She had her arm looped through his and she seemed ready for battle. The tape doesn’t tell me anything except for the fact he went to work and came home again. Still, I watch it five or six times over just to be sure.
He looked beautiful both times he appeared in the video. He was wearing all black last night and all black again this morning. Even in grainy black and white, he looked eye wateringly beautiful. His hair was lighter than usual. He must have been been to his over-priced hairdresser. His eyes looked different though. They looked like they looked the last time I saw him. Wider than normal and devoid of malice. I fucking hate that he looks like that, and I hate that his words still ring in my ears.
We’ll be happy. You and me.
*
I wake up drenched in cold sweat. My heart’s beating fast. It’s pitch dark. There’s total blackness all around me. I feel around the bed. He isn’t here. Shit! The little fucker’s escaped.
Wait. What?
No. That’s not right.
I sit up and turn the light on. I’m in my apartment, not at the safehouse. I’m alone. Of course, he’s not here. It’s a dream, that’s all. I get up and have a drink of water. My chest aches when I do it. I struggle to get the last of the water to go down. There’s a deep, hollow burn under my sternum. I try to go back to sleep but I can’t. Or, maybe I do, but it doesn’t feel like I’m asleep. At one point I feel something cutting into my wrist. I know that’s not real. It can’t be, I’m not cuffed to him anymore. Of course not. That must have been a dream, too.
*
