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My head jerks toward the window. My eyes lock with his. He’s staring right at me.
I think he smirks, but I drop to the ground. I try not to cry out as my knees hit the hard tile.
“That’s gonna leave a mark too.” I close my eyes. Embarrassment turns my cheeks pink. At least only Kimber can see me now. Jinx meows at me before running off.
“Oh, honey.” Kimber shakes her head, an amused, if sleepy, smile on her face. “Go to bed.”
“Fine.” I crawl over toward the light before reaching up and flicking it off. I get to my feet. He can’t see me in the dark. And even if he could, I’m already busted.
“You’re not going to bed, are you?” She yawns. “You’re just switching windows.”
“Ahh-” I trail off because I’ve got no excuse, and I’m a terrible liar.
“That’s my girl. Ain’t no quitters here.”
I giggle because she’s right. I’m going to find out what he’s up to. I just need to get better at my stalking.Investigating, I mentally correct. Totally not stalking. I’m just keeping an eye on him. Like the neighborhood watch. That’s what I am doing. It’s for the greater good, and not because I’m nosy as shit. It’s also not because my mystery man is too handsome for anyone’s good.
2
HEATH
She’s watching me from her living room now. Probably hunkered down in that blue and white afghan that rests on the back of the chintz sofa with its threadbare edges. Mildred always did take the harmless granny routine to the extreme. But her granddaughter doesn’t know what she was. I’m one of the few who does.
I sit back in my recliner and watch her watching me. Slipping on my night vision goggles, I get a good view of her. She’s wearing the oversized T-shirt with the kittens on the front. Where did she even get that? A thrift store located in 1986? Just seeing it makes me smile. Fuck, I’m going soft.
She scans the side of my house, doing her best to find me. I love teasing her by showing up in a window and pretending to be ignoring her and just going about my life. She thinks she’s so sneaky, ducking down when I glance her way or pretending to be reading a book or watering her half-dead garden. She doesn’t have much of a green thumb. But that’s fine. I don’t watch her to learn horticulture. I’m more partial to when she bends over to fuss at one of the wilted tomato plants. Her long legs and round ass are an excellent view that goes perfectly with my morning coffee.
Jinx jumps onto the back of the couch and curls up right in Lena’s face, obscuring my view. I shake my head. That cat has been nothing but trouble since the day he showed up on Mildred’s doorstep. Lena reaches out to pet him, then pulls back, then tries again. Jinx goes to bite her--total head fake--then runs off. Asshole.
I focus my night vision goggles tighter on her face, the little dimples on her cheeks hidden when she’s not smiling. But I’ve seen them. Sometimes, she smiles in her sleep.
My phone vibrates. I sigh. No rest for the wicked. I shed my goggles and pick it up, checking the number. Work. Always work.
I stand and stretch as Sister Jezebel gives me the details of where, when, and who. At least it’s in town. I can come back to my little bungalow and watch over Mildred’s granddaughter when I’m finished with the job.
Dressing quickly, I holster my pistol and slide knives into all the hidden spots in my suit coat and pants. My tailor doesn’t skimp on quality, not when he knows the only way he gets repeat business is if I’m alive to give it. I check myself in the mirror and adjust my tie. This job should be quick and easy. Not painless, though. Never that.
I trot out to my garage and choose the sleek black Mercedes. I don’t roll it out unless it’s nighttime. The flashy car doesn’t go with the cottages on this street, and I can’t afford to draw any attention to myself.
Even though the engine is nothing more than a low purr, I can feel Lena’s gaze on me as I ease down the driveway and out onto our cookie cutter cul de sac.
The city is miles away, but I’ll get there in plenty of time. So I flick on the radio and drum my fingers on the steering wheel. My thoughts go back to sweet little Lena, the way she rests one hand just above her right breast when she sleeps. The flowery pink panties she likes to wear. It’s a shame when her air conditioning just happens to go out--odd, really, for it to have so many problems--I smirk. But when it’s on the fritz, she sleeps on top of the sheets, her kitten T-shirts riding up and her panties on display. How many times have I wanted to rip them off and take her? I can’t count. But I would never hurt her like that. Not because I’m a good man. I’m not. But because I respected Mildred. She trusted me, helped me when no one else would, and I’ll owe her a debt for the rest of my life.
My gaze flicks to my rear view. A periwinkle blue Camry follows me, though Lena tries to keep a reasonable distance between us. The little sneak has stepped up her efforts.
I smile and run my thumb across my lower lip. If she wants to play this game, I’ll oblige her. I’m not even out of our small town before I pull over at a gas station, jump out of my car, and head inside. I pretend to be putting heavy thought into whether I want a Red Bull or a Monster drink when the bell tinkles behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s her. This is a big move on her part. She rarely leaves her house. So I let it play out. No need to spook her.
“Merle.” I greet the cashier and hand over the Red Bull.
“How’s it going?” He rings me up, and I pay with cash as Lena peeks over the honeybun display.
“So far, so good.”
He hands me my change. “You look like a man on a mission.”
“Things to do.” I shrug and take the Red Bull, then turn around slowly so she can duck before I head out the door.
“Take it easy, man,” Merle calls.
