All for the best. I can’t get too close to anyone.
First because of who I am.
Now because of the man obsessed with me.
I spend the rest of the day at my townhouse, doing a physical sweep for bugs or cameras. I don’t find any, but I don’t have the proper equipment to detect what might be hiding in the wiring. I have more luck getting information after making a few calls.
Turns out, the owner of the townhouse is Roy Conglomerate, the real estate arm of Roy Enterprises. He didn’t even bother to hide the purchase behind a shell corporation. I was told about this place through police channels, but I already know Rex is besties with the Chief, so he could have easily told the brass about the available housing and made sure the offer landed in my inbox.
The townhouse neighbor is listed as S. Rex. I don’t need three guesses to figure out what the S is probably short for.
My phone rumbles on the kitchen counter. I pick it up, cursing when I see Rex has somehow changed his name back to Sir.
Sir: What are your plans for dinner?
Me: You hacked my phone
Sir: Allegedly. Dinner?
Oh, fuck him.
Me: Bodega kebob
Me: @3 am
Sir: Not amusing.
Me: I think it is
Me: I’m a grown woman
Me: I can feed myself
Between the room at Hotel Magnifique, the clothes and winter coat, and lunch today, he certainly likes his gifts. He says he’ll take care of me, and he has.
And deep down, I love it. More than a little bit.
It’s been a long time since anyone has taken care of me this way. After my family was murdered, I ended up with extended family, then a group home. At age twelve, I ran away and lived outside for weeks.
Sir: I know.
Sir: You shouldn’t have to.
My throat is tight. Does he know about the time I spent surviving on my own? Sleeping under a bank of azalea bushes in a park, climbing into dumpsters and picking through rotting food to find something I could eat?
I look around the kitchen. Is he watching me now?
Sir: Did you like the Italian?
The delivery from Paisanos, the one I thought might have been for my neighbor, was him making sure I ate.
Me: I think I accidentally ate Sir Rex’s instead.
I should be angry at how he’s so thoroughly surveilled me. Right now, I just feel protected. Like someone’s taking care of me.
It’s a heady feeling. Dangerous.
Sir: All will be forgiven if you have dinner with me
