I’m running now. My huffs make it hard to hear her voice, but I have no problem hearing Winger snap, “Your boyfriend? Oh fuck.”
I feel like I have fire ants crawling all over my skin. This isn’t supposed to happen. She’s mine. Only ever mine. I think I’m going to throw up. I haven’t puked since I was in grade fucking school.
“You said your boyfriend was coming because you heard someone outside?” Winger says loudly, but I’m not listening.
My body is already convinced I need to hurt someone. “There was a car by my mailbox. I know I sound like I’m being paranoid, but I heard a noise outside.” Her voice is soft, frightened. It settles something inside me. She saw me. She’s scared, I scared her.
It also tells me she’s not as oblivious as she would have me think. She knows I’ve been watching her.
“She knows you’re there,” Winger tells me.
I grunt and hang up on him. She already ended her call anyway. I’ve been here enough to know how to move around unseen and unheard. The only reason she heard me before was because I was careless. I move silently until I can see her. She’s peering through the bars where the horses usually are. I want to order her to get the fuck out and tell her that damn thing is going to trample her, but I’m transfixed by her face.
She’s frightened, and it makes my dick hard. I’m fucked up. I know I’m fucked up. Does that make me less fucked up because I admit it? I’m standing right next to her house when she cautiously steps out of the little horse room and slinks toward the front of the barn. Her eyes are wide as she scans the area, but she can’t see me, even though I’m standing right in front of her.
She dips her hand into her pocket and brings out a set of keys. I have every one of them copied on my key ring already. I see her chest rise right before she makes a mad dash from the barn. She is almost running right to me as if the devil himself is on her heels, but she veers to the right and curses as she tries to unlock the door. That thought makes me grin. She’s good and pure, and I want to ruin her. I might as well be the devil.
I watch the curtain flick to the side as she looks out, right through me. Sometimes I think I’m a ghost. The floors of her old house creak, telling me exactly where she is as she moves around, checking the locks and windows. It pleases me. I worry about her out here when I can’t be here with her.
While she’s in her mother’s room, I head over to the barn and shut the door. It’s a compulsion. Just like she needs to lock all the doors and windows, I need to keep her safe too. Plus, I like letting her know I was here, watching over her.
Chapter 5
Idon’t get much sleep that night, but I’m kind of used to it at this point. Once the sun is up, I feel slightly detached from everything that happened last night, like I may have overreacted, but I still hesitate when I reach for the barn door.
When I step inside, I can see the bulbs are still lit, chasing away the gloom of the structure. Scooby is in his stall looking at me, probably pissed that I left the lights on all night. Moe neighs loudly. He’s the oldest of the horses. I didn’t even try to sell him, not that anyone would have bought him. He lived a long, hard life as a plow horse on an Amish ranch and deserves to spend his final few years relaxing.
I get my usual chores out of the way after putting the horses in the pasture, then debate walking up the driveway to see if the car is still parked there, but I decide to take my truck instead. I don’t even need to make it to the end of the drive to see it’s gone. Any evidence of it having been there is gone too.
Sitting behind the wheel, I pick up my phone, hit the button for recent calls, and dial the nonemergency number again. Once a human answers, I say, “Hi, I called last night about a car being parked in front of my house. I just wanted to see if anything ever came of it.”
“Did you file a police report?” the woman asks.
“No, I was just checking to see if the police actually spoke to anyone.” I scrunch up my face. Calling was stupid.
“Unless you filed a police report or would like to, there’s nothing I can do for you,” she tells me dismissively.
“Oh, okay. Bye.” I hang up and place my forehead on the steering wheel. “What did you think they were going to do, Lucy? Give you the person’s name and address?”
I put the car in park and head over to the mailbox to grab the mail. May as well do something useful.
* * *
After dinner,I call Gwen. “What the heck are you doing calling me?” She sounds super bitchy.
“I don’t know, maybe I have the wrong number.”
“You might. This used to be my old best friend’s number, but she’s a shriveled up ancient hag at the ripe old age of eighteen. She barely does anything but work, so I know this isn’t her calling.”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” I deadpan. “I was going to tell you I had some time off and see if you wanted to make plans, but I can see I’ve obviously dialed the wrong number.”
“Holy hell, you want to make plans? Like going out?” I can hear the excitement in her voice, and she drops the fake attitude immediately.
“Yeah, I have a few nights off.” Gwen knows exactly where I work. She’s actually begged me to allow her to come to the club. My answer has been and will always be an emphatic no. Not only do I not want her seeing me there, but I don’t want her there either. I know stuff goes down there that could get her hurt or in trouble. It’s bad enough I’m there.
“How soon can you be ready?” I can hear her tossing things around in her room.
“Gwen, wait. I can’t tonight, but I thought we could make plans to do something. I’ll be able to let you know what days I have off.”
