“So, he’s being a good boy?”
Her question pulls me away from my racing thoughts. “What?” I ask.
“Kingston!” She repeats. “Is he being a good boy for you?”
I look toward the black shaggy dog, who now squiggles along the carpet, in a sort of interpretive dance, joyful over a full belly. “Yeah! He’s a great dog.”
A deeper voice now asks, “What do you think of the view?” My dad is on the phone now.
I rechecked the lock on the door. “It’s umm…” I walk over to a kitchen drawer and toss the confounded thing in before slamming it shut with my hip. Finally, my brain can think clearly. “We definitely don’t have views like this back in Southie,” I say. Sounding more deranged than carefree.
“Well… enjoy it and thanks for making the trip. Love you, Cinnabun.”
“Love you too, Dad. Enjoy your trip. Talk to you later.”
After checking every lock in the house, twice, I commence closing each and every curtain. If there was no drape, I block the window with throw pillows, so there was no possible way to see into the house. As I covered the last window, I swear I see something moving. Maybe I’m tired…
It was most likely just a deer or maybe a black bear? My dad said they are prevalent in these areas. If I’m being honest, it looked like it was on two legs. Like a person. I peek around the pillow one more time, and I swear I see the silhouette of a large figure, standing right where I previously found the earbud.
My breath feels like it’s caught in my throat. As I’ve practiced so many times before, I close my eyes and count to ten. When I open them and scan the tree line again, the shadowy figure is gone.
I feel trapped. Caged in this house. Is my mind playing tricks on me or am I being stalked for real?!
Kingston is ready to turn in, curling up in his plush, flannel dog bed by the fireplace. The kitchen drawer is outlined in light from where I shoved the earbud. I could just leave it in there for the rest of my stay, or I could destroy it. Do old 1920’s remodeled homes have garbage disposals? Would pulverizing this one break the link between me and my deranged stalker? I grab a wooden spoon out of the utensil container on the counter. Open the drawer, ready to shred this thing into a thousand pieces, when my phone vibrates again. I grab it off the table, expecting my parents to have forgotten to tell me something, but instead, it’s a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Be a good girl and put the earbud in.
I slammed the drawer shut, as if a snake was within it. I make my way to a window; moving the curtain to the side, I scan the dark yard for any signs of movement. I do this from each window but find nothing.
The tired dog whines. Poor Kingston probably thinks we were waiting for someone to arrive.
Soon, I find myself yawning uncontrollably. Just as before, I powered down my phone. I already changed my number, and I did not want to receive any more messages. Once I was confident no one was outside, I too curled up in the living room to fall asleep. There was no way I was walking outside, in the dark, to get to the guest suite.
What if someone breaks in? The best thing I had was a set of wrought iron and fireplace tools.
I pull the stand over to the couch before wrapping myself in a throw blanket and using the underside of a scratchy embroidered pillow of a mallard, for my head. My eyes feel so heavy that regardless of my fears, I stand no chance of remaining awake. At least Kingston is here. Surely, he would wake me. With that slight piece of mind, I soon drift off.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
FROM THE SHADOWS
Ialready knew she was coming out here, and I was fortunate to have enough time to myself to follow her. It’s not often I’m on my own. I rented a small cabin as close as possible, having to pay triple the usual cost when I learned it was already rented for the weekend. Money talks, so naturally it was mine in the end.
Cindel sets herself up in the sunroom, allowing me a chance to watch her from afar. She plays with the ends of her hair, running the strands through her fingers, like an endless loop. I’ve seen her do this before. She does this whenever she’s thinking, or sometimes nervous. I’m captivated by everything she does… everything she is.
I smile from the shadows as she throws my gift into the yard, mere feet from my hiding spot. Tortured as I watch her bent over form, crawl around the lawn, trying to find it again. Sometimes she doesn’t make sense, but that’s what I love so much about her. Unable to predict what she’s going to do next, and that fascinates me. I am mildly concerned my dick might fall off with how hard it’s been over the course of the last hour. Fuuuuck. Her body is all I can see when I close my eyes and now, she’s freelygiving me more material. On her hands and knees. I was ready to take it out right here, but I know if I move too much with the sun still above the horizon, there is a chance she could see me.
Cindel is vigilant. Scanning the property, trying to find me, but I’m nothing if not disciplined. With the earbud connected to my phone, I open up the app and select the ‘light up’ function. I want her to find it. She needs to know I’m here. Watching. She may be freaked out by my tactics, but it’s necessary. I just wish she would do as she’s told and keep the damn earbud with her. It’s quite taxing to get a new pair each time, calibrate it just for her, and deliver it discreetly. Hacking into her hearing aids felt too personal, so I settled on the earbud idea. It allows the illusion of free will, but she’s a curious girl, and I knew she would take it home the night she found it. I picked the right ear because I’m rather fond of the little freckle she has on the right side of her neck. She only puts her hair behind her ears when she has an earbud in. Otherwise, her hair is down, covering her usual hearing aids.
I can’t for the life of me figure out why she’d hide any part of herself. She’s fucking perfect just the way she is.
I’m not particularly good with words… but I like music. As if creating a mosaic, each song I select is the perfect piece…. bringing her closer to seeing the big picture.
If she destroys another earbud, it's a setback. Time is running out so to speak. I fold, take out my phone and tell her to be a good girl, and put the little device in.
It’s kind of adorable… her little temper tantrums. The way she stomps around after an interaction with me or how she attempts to keep me out by rearranging her room. Now, she’s using pillows to keep me out. I’m curious if she will stop pushing me away once I finally introduce myself.
