And waited.
For years.
FOURTEEN
LIAM
Goddamn.Cramps seize my calves as I stand amongst the stacks, watching Kat.
I’ve never known anyone to spend so much time in a library. Not that I’ve frequented them often, given my upbringing. Not much book learning needed for punching guys to death.
It’s been going on for three hours, this lurking in the stacks. I’m itching to put on my mask. No one pays me much mind, but I worry Kat’ll see my face every time she looks up.
The library closes at ten, not that she seems aware of the time. She’s got her head down, that angel hair hiding her pretty face, and typing away. Every so often, she stops and stares off into the distance like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
Is she thinkingabout me?
I wonder about that more than is healthy.
The light above her table catches her hair, making it gleam gold. I feel that familiar ache that never quite goes away. She’s so fucking beautiful.
A sound from the far end of the room distracts me from idolising her.
A student in headphones scrapes his chair on the floor, gaining him multiple shushes from the few people left in the library.
I’ve been jumpier than usual since losing Kat’s stalker for a second time. Whoever he is, he’s a wily little fuck. He’s clearly mapped out every single escape route from Kat’s flat, and it’s becoming a full-time affair trying to keep her and Ellie safe. I’m only sleeping while they are in classes, and there’s a pain behind my eyes that won’t let up.
It doesn’t help my stealth lurking either. I feel like everyone is looking at me whenever anyone passes. Few do, given that I’m in the legal section of older tomes. Rarely does anyone seem to be looking for an actual book in the library; most sit at the central tables and work on laptops or phones. Often both at the same time.
Kat stands and stretches out, her dress riding up her thighs in a way that nearly breaks me. I watch her as she moves into the stacks, pulling on my mask as I follow her. The gap between shelves is narrow, the books towering high above our heads.
There are no overhead lights here, only the occasional wall sconce, and the floor-to-ceiling windows are dark, their bumpy surface obscuring the world beyond.
She’s pulling books out and looking at the back, before pushing them back in.
I stop at the end of the row she’s heading down, boxing her in.
She turns, eyes widening.
‘If you’re going to sneak around,’ she says, ‘you should get better at it.’
She may be playing it cool, but the surprise is written all over her face.
‘I thought you’d given up stalking me.’
Never.
‘Keeping myself busy making sure no one else is,’ I respond, taking a step closer to her.
Her face softens, and she turns back to the books, resting her fingers on a leathery spine.
‘I’m guessing you didn’t catch him,’ she says.
‘Not yet. But I will.’ I take another step.
‘I have so many questions.’
I wait, sweat gathering at the base of my spine.
