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Roman likes routines.

The gym. Coffee. Groceries. The way he moves through a store like he's following a list only he can see.

And routines leave patterns.

I continue toward the car.

Maybe I'm better at this than he thinks.

Maybe I'm better at this than I think.

Suddenly, this isn't just a game anymore.

It's a puzzle.

Roman has spent years making sure nobody can find the pieces.

Too bad for him that I fucking love puzzles.

30

ROMAN

Chaos thinks I noticed her by the cantaloupes. But I noticed her before that.

Not immediately. I'll give her that much.

Different car. Different hoodie. Different sunglasses. Same fucking brown wig.

But this time, she kept her distance. Didn't walk directly behind me. Didn't hover close enough that I could feel her staring at my ass. At least not constantly.

I wasn't completely sure it was her until I reached for the bananas and caught movement near the apples.

A woman in a baseball cap started typing on her phone. Something about her movements felt familiar.

And then I saw her phone case.

Chaos.

I almost smiled.

I moved to the vegetables, watching her from the corner of my eye. She moved slightly but still kept her distance.

I threw the items in my cart, then glanced over my shoulder.

She panicked and grabbed a cantaloupe. I watched her stare at it like she'd been considering buying one her entire fucking life.

Then she tapped it. Sniffed it.

I had to look away.

Jesus Christ.

After that, I started fucking with her.

I stopped. She stopped.

I moved. She moved.