It’s been four nights since Ivy scaled my balcony, folded my clothes, and crawled into bed with me, watching me sleep.
Before Drew arrived, I installed a camera in my bedroom. I’m pretty sure Ivy doesn’t know it’s here.
Until now, I hadn’t bothered watching the feed. But I can’t stand this any longer. I need to see her, if only on my phone.
Now, I’m sitting in bed, watching every video of her sneaking into my room at night.
Damn. Why didn’t I install cameras elsewhere?I need to get on that.
With a sigh, I rewind the feed and watch it again.
Then I watch the feed from the first night she didn’t come over. And the second. And the third.
I run a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m in control. Always.
I had no problems with my solitary existence—until Ivy.
Now, I’m an addict who can’t get enough.
I fall back on the bed, my eyes on the ceiling. I can’t live like this anymore. I have to do something.
Knock.
Knock.
I sit up, my heart pounding faster until I realize it isn’t Ivy. She wouldn’t knock. She’d just come in.
“Come in,” I yell, trying to appear like my normal black cat self.
“Hey,” my brother says as he steps into my room. “I made chicken and veggies. Thought maybe you’d join me and we could watch Panic Room.”
“Panic Room?”
He blinks at me. “You know—Jodie Foster. Robbers break in. She and her daughter hide in the panic room.” His hands start waving excitedly. “Raoul is so crazy in that movie. Who would think Dwight Yo?—”
“Raoul?”
He looks at me like I grew two heads. “The masked robber with the gun.”
“Ah. I remember that movie now.”
My mind is whirling with a horribly terrific plan.
“Raincheck on dinner and the movie. I need to go to the office. Something important I need to do.” I’m already on my feet. “Don’t wait up.”
Drew looks at me like I’m nuts.
Which, he’s probably not wrong.
Considering what I’m about to do, he’s not wrong at all.
Luckily,the clothing and the binoculars I bought from the sporting goods store are still in my car.
And now, I’m back inside the same store, getting gloves and a black ski mask.
I’m sweating as the clerk rings me up, hoping he doesn’t think I’m about to rob a bank. I pay and hurry toward the exit, excitement and nervousness thrumming through my veins.
Five minutes later, I’m inside my office, clad all in black.
