Patrick
Stakeouts are boring.
Usually I have at least one other person to keep me company.
Not a damn thing happens until well after it gets dark. The woman, Charlotte, peeks out the door of her apartment. I scoot lower in my seat, watching her with zero shame. She darts outside, closing the door behind her, and makes her way to her SUV.
My forehead wrinkles.
Wilder said it was just her and the kid. No one has come or gone for hours.
Is she going to leave the boy in there alone?
Where the fuck is she headed?
My jaw tightens as she backs the SUV right up onto the sidewalk in front of her building. She hops out, shuts off the vehicle, pops the back hatch, and heads inside.
Motherfucker.
She’s going to run.
I can feel it in my bones.
My suspicions are proven correct when she comes out of her apartment with a load of her belongings.
Goddammit.
Now I’m going to have to go up there and introduce myself.
Wilder’s stepsister was supposed to call and warn her that someone would be keeping an eye on her.
Does she think we bailed simply because she couldn’t make us?
The entire point is that I’m keeping a low profile.
If anyone popped up on her doorstep, I would call for backup. My guys could be here within ten minutes, but I’m more than capable of keeping Charlotte and her son safe.
She makes several more trips, steadily packing the back of her SUV. My eyes widen as she even carries out bedding and blankets, stuffing them into the back seat. She keeps all of it behind the driver’s side, so the kid’s car seat must be on the other side. She goes back inside, and I exhale heavily, shutting my car off.
I stay close to the building, appraising the parking lot as I come to a stop near the shrubs at the edge of the sidewalk.
I don’t want to frighten the poor woman to death, but something tells me, if she spots a strange man, she’ll run right back into her apartment and call the cops. There’s also the whole part about not wanting her to scream bloody murder and terrify her child.
I don’t think she’s packing to leave tomorrow. I’d bet my last dollar that her final trip inside will be to collect the boy.
Who knows where she plans to disappear to after that, but unfortunately for both of us, I can’t let that happen.
She makes her way toward her SUV while I stay flattened against the wall of her building. Her long golden-blonde hairbounces behind her as she moves, and I’m smacked with cherries and something tart.
It’s almost like lime and pomegranate…
Maybe?
My nose twitches, and I take a subconscious step forward, trying to determine if that’s really her scent or some type of perfume.
Jesus.
She smells like cherry limeade.
