It’s a little boring, I’ll admit, but maybe boring is just the thing I need.
I get my coffee and step out of the shop. As I take a look at my phone to judge the time, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Somebody’s watching me. I glance up and I don’t see anyone right off. Across the street, people are waiting at the bus stop. One of them is wearing a baseball cap and scrolling on his phone. There’s a car a little ways up with two people sitting inside, having a conversation. A man stands on the corner, waiting for the light to change.
Normal stuff. Too normal, actually.
I’m reminded of something my dad used to say when we used to take our morning walks.If it looks too normal around you, that’s probably because it isn’t normal at all.
I do my best not to stare and keep my head down as I side-eye the people around me. I see eyes turn toward me. The guy at the bus stop just starts talking to himself… or to whoever’s in his ear.
I’m being watched. Shit.
This is what I get for lying down with dogs. The fleas are now out and biting. I and maybe the club are on somebody’s radar. Somebody knows about Roman’s involvement.
I don’t know. Am I jumping to conclusions here? The guy at the corner crosses to the other side of the street. With his back to me, I see him glance at the car with the conversing couple. From here, it’s impossible to tell, but I imagine the couple in the car looking up at the rear view mirror at me.
I put my phone in my pocket and run the possibilities in my mind. I could be being paranoid. I mean, I did willingly continue to stay on knowing exactly what Roman is. But it’s not like I’ve been talking to anyone about him. Well, no one but Natasha, and she has her own problems with the law. I can’t imagine her running to the police about the sudden Bratva presence at the club.
So if I’m not crazy and I am being watched, then what’s the game? Have they been watching him for some time and somehow, they’ve just found out about the club? It wouldn’t have taken long for them to come across my name if that’s the case.
On my walk back home, I keep my wits about me, listening for footsteps following me, looking for people ‘casually’ standing around on the street, watching for unmarked vans. My runs aren’t very long so I don’t think they would have time to plant any bugs… but then again…
I call Natasha. The phone rings for a while before she finally picks up. She answers blearily. “What’s up?”
“You want to meet for coffee?”
I hear her move around, then, “Em, it’s, like, nine in the morning. You know I’ve got work tonight.”
My mind starts spinning. I don’t know who’s listening, even right now. “You shouldn’t sleep so late anyway,” I say, doing my best to sound as casual as I can. It’s not working. My voice is shaky.
“You okay?” she asks. “You don’t sound right.”
“I’m walking,” I tell her. “We don’t have to meet for coffee, but I do have to stop over. One of the customers left something for you last night, and I forgot to give it to you.”
“Um, okay. I’ll see you in a few, then.”
I hang up, my heart thumping hard in my chest. I don’t think her apartment is tapped, but I have no idea how far into an investigation the police are. I have to assume they know my circle of friends.
I should be careful either way.
Natasha answersthe door wearing only a nightshirt. She rubs a hand over her mussed, jet black hair and looks at me with sleep in her eyes. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She steps aside and lets me in. I immediately start looking around her apartment, my mind scanning possible places that they might think to hide a listening device. There are too many places. Under the lampshade on the end table by the couch, under the coffee table, behind the television on the wall…
“So, which customer was it?” she asks. “I’ll bet it was Gino. He’s been coming in since I started. He’s so sweet.”
“Mm-hmm.” I nod. I spot her balcony. “Would you mind if I showed you out on the balcony?”
I widen my eyes, hoping she reads my face to see that something is, indeed, off. She pauses and says, “I guess? Are you sure you’re…?”
“Great.” I take her by the hand and we walk to the sliding doors. Once we’re on the other side, I slide the doors closed.
“Hey, you could have at least waited for me to get my robe. It’s cold out here.” She shivers and rubs her arms.
“I think I’m being watched.”
