I try to busy myself with anything that wouldn’t cause me to go straight back there. Settling on hanging new wall decor in my room; then, moving onto answering a unread emails, and eventually attempting to read. I can’t help but be distracted byher as the bar party rages late into the night. My sweet princess sneaks fun-sized candy bars, instead of the offered shots, while the rest of the crowd happily knocks them back. The candy was more for her anyhow. Her commitment to sobriety shakes my foundation, making me question everything I’ve worked toward.
Discipline knows no bounds when it comes to the ones we care about. I’m transfixed on the way she glides through the bar, making sure customers are happy and watered. I suddenly realized something as I watched her, pulling out my phone; I send her a message. Live footage displays Cindel removing her device from a deep pocket. Her head shakes. Then she puts the phone back. I would willingly cut off pieces of myself each day, if it meant seeing that smile. Even for just a moment.
She finishes off the eventful night with her team’s help. Cindel really is a natural within this manager position. Changing into something less obvious, I opt for a black hoodie and jeans, then head out with just enough time to tail my better half as she walks home. I will never let her leave my sight again. I’m thrilled when my phone vibrates; Cindel is just a block ahead of me.
Princess: You really didn’t know I was dressed as a gangster?
She finally responds to my earlier message. When I remembered her favorite show wasThe Sopranos, I realized what she was aiming for.
Pawn: Not like any gangster I’ve ever seen.
I add a winky face to the end of the message, because I do love to get her worked up.
She continues walking toward her building, all the while holding her phone out, perhaps thinking about what to write. All at once, she stills, then turns to look behind her. Quickly, I duckbetween two buildings before she could see me following. Dots appear in the chat as I wait to hear footsteps continue toward her apartment.
Princess: Please tell me more about my brother.
Before I overthink it, I give my sweet girl what she continues to press. One piece at a time, I tell myself.
Pawn: Your brother was a good man. Pay attention to who you surround yourself with. In time, you’ll learn things others have tried to keep hidden. Don’t believe what you haven’t seen with your own eyes.
I peek around the corner to find Cindel frozen in place.
Without warning, she takes off like a rocket, running down the street, one hand on top of her hat, while her bag bounces aggressively with each stride. She may be fast, but I’m faster. My girl likes playing and I’m here for it. Her pounding footsteps slow as she reaches her building and slips inside.
Once I see the windows brighten from the third story of her building, I know she’s safe. I picked this out earlier, when I was watching her finish out the night. Within range, I connect to her little earbud and hit play. Our covert way of communicating is still nestled in her ear as the upbeat song, “All Day and All of the Night”from the English rock bandThe Kinks,streams from the playlist. I’m not good with words. Lyrics have a way of conveying my message better than I ever could. As if on cue, her silhouette appears within the lit window. Turning to her side, I get a glimpse of her perfect body. I step from my hidden position allowing her to see I’m here. Clad in black, I was a mere shadow beneath the streetlamp.
She raises her chin like it was some unannounced game of chicken, as the song continues to play for her. Slowly she begins unbuttoning her shirt. Is she? No, she wouldn't. Slowly, she moves down each button until she’s at her navel. I move. Not toward her, but away. Back into the shadows. She pauses the progression, unbuttoned completely but still covered. I’m like a moon in her orbit. Pulling away was damn near impossible. However, I won’t let any passersby see what's mine. Far enough away she can’t see me; Cindel pulls her curtains closed almost instantly. She may have won this round, but there won’t be any room for her to be a brat next time.
If I thought having any part of her would dull this steady craving, I would be lying. Not having my hands running through her hair or cupping her ideal breasts is causing me physical pain.
Micro-sized nanny cams give me a portal to Cindel as I watch her shuffle about her apartment before settling into her bed. As her movements cease, chest slowing to a steady rhythm; I can’t help this protective feeling that comes over me.
Anger bubbles to the surface as I consider past events and all the pain she has faced. If she only knew these,accidentsthat have befallen her were intentional. The mental anguish would poison her gentle spirit. I’m no saint either… solely responsible for at least one of the atrocities and because of that… I’ll never be the same.
How will she see me once she knows? Can she survive all these truths as she unknowingly unravels them? Will she still want me then?
Her leg kicks out from the sheet as she repositions herself. I toy with the idea of going over there and joining her in bed but think better of it. Sometimes she has trouble sleeping. She’s exhausted. I’ll wind up giving this poor girl an embolism if I keep up with all these unexpected encounters. The carved walking stick I gifted her in the Catskills, is just under her bed. It makesme wonder if she’s grown sentimental or if it's simply within reach to club anyone who invades her home. Which will only be me, from here on out.
Time isn’t on anyone’s side right now. Others want answers, and I don’t think Cindel has uncovered enough to keep herself safe. She’s running headfirst toward the danger… she just doesn’t know it yet. I need to do something to point her in the right direction. If Cindel doesn’t learn about what really happened to her brother, she’s going to wind up just like him. I’m not going to let that fucking happen. Things are different now. I couldn’t give two fucks about what I was brought up to do. Whether or not I was refined to be a weapon.
My father has been tirelessly planning. His first play was the explosion. What a fortuitous turn of events, to have landed this jewel in my lap.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, she had a hold on me. She’s been ingrained into every cell in my body, no longer am I able to follow my directive. Now it’s time to shed some light on what her family is capable of.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
CINDEL
Last night, I fell asleep envisioning who the man behind the mask could be. I definitely smelt smoke on him last night, but it was a musty odor, closer to a cigar. Sometimes Brodi smoked them with his friends when they went out. Of course, I know this man is not Brodi. Now, that I’ve had his dick in my mouth I can confirm, this is NOT him.
Everything with my stalker is new. Better than I’ve ever experienced. Even with his face completely covered… I can tell when he’s looking at me. Whether he’s checking in or asking permission, I want to say yes to everything. Yes, because unlike everyone else… he seems to care about me.
When I wake alone, thoughts of the man clad in black still looming, my hand inadvertently travels beneath my sleep shorts. I rub lazy circles with the latest memory of my stalker in those opened cargo pants. What could have happened afterwards? If there wasn’t someone banging on the door? If we had all the time in the world…? He’s beginning to consume my thoughts and now my dreams. It’s been so long since I can remember a pleasant dream. The unknown, once a shadowy corner I steeredclear of, now beckons me. I’m drawn to it. Drawn to him. I’m falling for this man and I’m not even sure who “he” is. I’m not scared, though, but intrigued. What does my stalker have in store for me? The feeling of being watched brings me comfort. Like no matter how shitty of a day I may have, I know I’m not facing it on my own.
My calendar reminds me I have plans with a certain someone who has trouble with recognizing boundaries. She wandered into my room without permission once and I may have been an accessory to petty theft after our visit to the tea party ship, but she’s genuinely really easy to be around. Today is the first Friday I’ve had off in a while, however I was unequivocally “busy” according to Mairead’s text.
