Page 18

This is the third time he’s checked tonight. My grin widens, teeth pressing against my lip.

He still doesn’t see me, and of course he doesn’t. From his angle, my car belongs to someone else… someone who lives in the building opposite his. Someone boring. Someone tired. Someone real and in bed after a long day of oxidizing.

His silhouette drifts back into place behind the curtain. I’m a patient man when I want to be. Stalking has never been on my bucket list, yet here we are. Me, in my luxury car watching, and him, restless in his apartment because he knows the devil is out to get him.

As I watch Adrian move back to his desk, I imagine the glow of the screen painting his face in sickly hues. I imagine the way his jaw sets when he’s concentrating. I imagine the bruise ghosting along his cheeks, faded now, no longer screaming its origin.

It’s a fucking shame.

I lean back into the seat, one hand resting loose on the steering wheel, the other tapping idly against my thigh as my phone lies neatly on the seat next to me.

Lucas’s voice breaks through the audio again. “Dude, you need to leave your house. Get fresh air. Hang out with actual people. With Xavier missing... it’s just- ugh. You need a fucking life, man.”

I snort quietly, despite finding his voice extremely triggering. Adrian answers immediately, sharp and defensive, “I have a fucking life.”

I smile. Of course you do, my little stray, one I’m about to ruin completely.

The silence stretches just long enough to mean something. “I’ve got a gig on Saturday,” Adrian adds. “I need sleep, and I can’t be hungover.” Responsible. That’s fucking adorable.

“What time?” Lucas asks.

“Too fucking early.” Adrian spits back. Now that piques

my interest. I lean forward slightly, elbow resting on my knee.

“Where?” Lucas presses. “And for what?”

That does it. I pick the phone up from the seat, bringing it closer as if proximity will wring more truth out of it. My grin feels surgical at this point.

Adrian sighs, “A nature reserve.”

That’s it. No name. No details. He clamps down immediately after, conversation veering away as Lucas groans about bugs or dirt or whatever useless noise people make when they don’t realize they’ve handed someone a loaded gun.

A Nature reserve.

I roll the words around slowly, savoring them.

‘Too fucking early’ could mean sunrise. Reserves love dawn with its golden light, mist with its critters and creatures. Secluded paths with limited cameras and sparse staff. Volunteers who mind their business.

Fucking perfect.

My mind starts moving immediately. Maps unfolding and distances measuring popular reserves within an hour’s radius of the city. Which ones commission freelance photographers. Which ones have public access trails near restricted zones.

I glance back up at his apartment. I settle deeper into the seat, phone warm in my hand.

Accidental meetings are an art form with their timing, placement, and plausibility.

A man with a dog and a shared trail.

I smile to myself, devilish with contentment. Fresh air will be good for him… so will I.

I end the feed myself. Silence settles into the car, folding around me, skimming the sleek curves and beige leather seats as I shift.

Adrian isn’t prey. That realization comes without drama and without resistance.

Prey freezes. Or flee blindly. Prey collapses inward, fractures under pressure, begs the world to decide for them. Adrian didn’t do any of that. He reacted. Fast, ugly, and fucking effective. What he did that night wasn’t out of desperation… that was instinct sharpened by something old and well-fed.

Predators don’t usually recognize other predators in the moment. They mistake them for problems. Variables even. Accidents.