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ELEVEN
The blinking red light of the tracker showing me Lucy’s current location is mocking me from the screen. She’s at her parents’ house. Has been all night. I’ve spent that time talking myself off the fucking ledge, trying to keep myself from storming into the Christianson residence and kidnaping her from her childhood bedroom. Or at least that’s how I imagine it happening.
She’s ignored all of my messages. I already have a list of fifty guys who commented on her posts. Guys she encouraged to contact herdirectly. I’ve conjured up the million and one ways I can end them all. I’ll make it theatrical, force her to fucking watch. Maybe then she’ll think twice before flirting with anyone who isn’t me.
I check my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. I know she has class in an hour, a class I plan to be sitting in on. The red dot starts moving, letting me know she’s leaving her parents’ estate. Picking up my keys and wallet, I walk out the door, locking it behind me. My parents decided to stay at my place and the last thing I need is either of them seeing this room and discovering my latest obsession.
Lucy Christianson.
There are photos of her pinned up on every wall. All candid shots. Pictures she wasn’t posing for because she didn’t know I was taking them. There are also little keepsakes I’ve collected from her home.
The moment I walk into the foyer, my mum calls out, “Dominic, I’ve cooked breakie.”
Shit, I really do like my mum’s cooking. Even if it is just breakfast. I make my way to the dining room, where my dad’s seated beside my mother. The table is covered in an assortment of foods.
Bending down, I kiss my mum on her cheek. “Morning. This looks great, Mum, but I’m running late. I’ve got to get to class,” I tell her, and pick up a blueberry muffin from the table.
“You need to eat,” she scolds me.
“I am.” I hold up the muffin. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
“Okay, have a good day, sweetheart,” Mum says.
“I’ll walk you out.” My dad stands and follows me to the door. I count to twenty in my head. That’s how long it takes before we’re out of earshot of my mum. “Are you okay?” he asks me.
“Fine,” I tell him.
It’s moments like this I wish I was better at faking it. Bree is a master at blending in, looking like she’s completely fine and has all her screws in place all the time. I know differently, probably because she doesn’t pretendwith me. I don’t like when my parents worry about me, so for them, I do try to act like I’m not teetering on that edge of psychopathy. Or, you know, haven’t already taken the leap and plummeted into comfortable acceptance.
“You’re not and that’s okay. You know you can talk to me, right?”
“I know,” I say as we enter my garage.
“Then what has you all worked up? Don’t bother saying nothing. I know you, Dominic.” He’s using that tone again—the one hethinksworks on me and I let him.
I sigh. “I don’t want to hurt her.” I admit the one thing that’s kept me from approaching her. That’s kept me watching her from a distance, and not allowed me to touch her.
“Then you won’t.” He says it so calmly.
“It’s not that simple. I want to hurt her. I want to feel her pain, Dad. It’s fucking messed up. But more than that, I want to watch her live. Her day-to-day bullshit. I want to watch her fucking smile. Hear her laugh.” I know by the strained look on my dad’s face that I’ve said too much. I should have kept my thoughts to myself.
“Dominic. If I thought for a second that you were going to hurt that girl, I’d have you locked up in a heartbeat. You’re not going to hurt her,” he repeats.
“How do you know?” I ask him.
“Because I have faith in you.”
“Faith?” I chuckle.
“You should try having some in yourself. Also, talk to the girl, Dominic. Let her get to know you.”
“I can’t do that. She’s too innocent for me.”
“Do you think your mother isn’t too fucking sweet and innocent for the likes of me? You might not know everything about my past, but it wasn’t all on the up-and-up, kid. I don’t deserve her, but I try every day to be worthy of her,” he says.
“You are,” I tell him. “But I really do have a class to catch, Dad. And, uh, thanks.”
“Give yourself a chance,” he calls out as I climb into my car.
