Instead of fixing herself something to eat, Laurie washes the dishes.
I stare at her face, watching as a look of hopelessness settles over her features. Her chin begins to tremble, then she glances up and blinks, trying to stop the tears while taking deep breaths.
The sight makes me feel downright murderous, and I whisper, “Once you’re with me, you won’t struggle like this,la mia farfalla.”
Laurie whispers something and seems to calm herself, and when she pulls the trash bag out of the bin, I move deeper into the shadows.
I hear a door open, and a moment later, Laurie throws the bag into the large garbage can before dragging it down the driveway to leave it on the curb.
My impatience and anger keep growing as I watch Laurie do household chores until one a.m.
When she moves to the back of the house, I can’t see her anymore, but outside the bathroom, I can hear the water running, and once everything grows quiet and I’m sure she’s in bed, I walk to the street where the SUV is parked.
As I climb into the backseat, Little Ricky asks, “Did you get your fill of stalking the woman?”
I shoot him a glare that makes him grin. “Her lazy piece of shit boyfriend doesn’t do a damn thing around the house.”
“I didn’t hear any gunshots,” he says as he pulls away from the curb. “Did you kill him?”
“Not yet,” I mutter, the anger still coiled tightly in my chest.
“So what’s next?” Little Ricky asks.
“I want to watch her a little while longer before I make my move.”
“And what will your move entail?”
“I’m not sure. Right now I’m thinking either kidnap Laurie or make her a deal she can’t refuse.”
“I vote for the deal. Enough money can buy anything.”
“Yeah,” I murmur as I stare out the window.
For now, I’m liking this little game where I get to watch her without her knowing.
It’s a pity I have to work, and I can’t stalk her twenty-four-seven.
Chapter4
Laurie
I’ve been running on very little food and even less sleep.
The only thing keeping me going is that the second place I looked at was livable and the owner said she’d hold it for seventy-two hours.
When I get paid in two days, it’s all over. I’ll move into the room and find another job.
In the meantime, I’ve been working my butt off to get the projections done before month-end, but even if I stay at the office twenty-four-seven, it’s an impossible task.
Feeling soul-crushingly exhausted, I push the front door open, and stepping inside, I pull my handbag strap off my shoulder so I can set it down on the side table.
As always, the house is quiet except for the low hum of the TV, and I assume Austin is asleep on the couch.
I can’t remember when we last had a conversation.
Walking to the living room so I can collect his takeout boxes, I glance left into the kitchen and come to a sudden halt.
Oh. My. God.
