I figured the investigation into a random, normal girl would confuse my private investigator. But what he doesn’t realize is that any information I get on her seems precious to me. It’s another thing revealed. Another piece of knowledge that brings me closer to knowing her better.
Opening the PDF, I note that it’s only one page long. It really is a short report.
Blair studied here in Miami. English literature. She wanted to be an author, but somewhere between attending university and finishing her studies, something changed that.
Perhaps she didn’t enjoy the studying.I will have to ask her when I see her.
But I can’t see her! I need to stop following her!
My eyes drift down the report on my phone. She has no brothers or sisters, and it seems she distanced herself from her parents as soon as she turned sixteen. I wonder why? That is another question I want to ask her. Maybe I could take her for lunch.What harm would it do?
Huffing, I shove my phone aside and press my hands against my face. This girl is driving me crazy. The more I find out about her, the more I want to know.
I’ve barely done any work this week, and it’s getting harder and harder not to just walk into the bookstore and ask her to dinner.
But I would need to explain how I knew she was here.I was walking past. I saw you through the window.
No.
Patience is one thing I am actually very good at.
Delayed gratification. Waiting for something you really desire makes it that much sweeter in the end.
After her lunch break, I force myself to go into the office for a few hours while I know she’s back at work. But at five thirty, I make sure I’m outside again, in case she closes earlier than her usual six o’clock.
Through the window, I watch her colleague talking to her. She laughs; he moves a little closer. My blood boils, but I hold back the urge to rush in there. Brandon. She mentioned him at dinner. Maybe I should ask my PI to look into him as well.
No.
He’s meaningless. I can tell by her body language that the guy doesn’t stand a chance of getting past the friend zone. I still don’t like that he gets to spend time with her in person every day, while I am stuck with such a vast distance between us.
When this shit with Marcas is over, maybe I will ask her to dinner then.
After she’s locked up the store, I wait for her to pass where I’m sitting in my car, then I climb out to follow her. I hate the fact that she catches the bus every day. If she were mine, I would never allow that. My usual routine has become walking her to the bus station, then heading back to get my car so I can drive to her home and watch her make dinner through the kitchen window.
The streets are busy with people heading home and others heading out for the customary Friday night drinks. Blair is more of a homebody than a party girl. She seems to love curling up on her sofa with a book. And she also seems to really enjoy cooking. While she’s busy every evening, I watch her singing and dancing in the kitchen. It’s one of my favorite times of the day with her.
She turns a corner and heads down a quieter street.
I have to drop back a little more to make sure she doesn’t see me.
She walks as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. Taking her time, looking up at the sky, smiling at people who walk past. It’s strange how she can seem so shy and so sweet at the same time.
We are five minutes from the bus stop when chaos breaks loose.
Four bulky men step into her path.
She hesitates, looking nervous as she mutterssorryand tries to step around them.
But two of the men move with her, blocking her again, while the other two step in behind her to surround her.
I jog closer, my body spiking with tension.
One of the men looks up, and my heart shatters.
I recognize him. That’s when I realize I recognize all four of them. Men for hire. Killers in the bratva world. What the fuck are they doing, antagonizing her?
“You’re going to have to come with us,” one of them says.
