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Do I dare? Do I let my curiosity rule?
Refusing to give myself a second to overthink it, I open my phone and punch his number into my contacts.
Me:I have questions. You have answers. Let’s talk.
There, it’s done. I made my choice. I just hope that the hitman keeps his promise that we are safe.
What kind of person am I to feel safe in the arms of a hitman I don’t know, whom I’ve never seen the face of, and who could very well kill me? I’m not sure, but something inside me tells me that it feels right, even if it’s so damn wrong.
Ten
My daily lifeis full of awkward silences filled by the peculiar imaginings of a child.
“…and that is how the multiverse works. Isn’t that absolutely fascinating, Lottie? Think about it. Somewhere in the multiverse, there are multiple versions of you and me!” Milo tugs on my hand, nearly dragging me down to his level. “There is a version of us where Mom and Dad didn’t die and, and, and we’re a family.”
It’s too early for this conversation.
I hate that it’s my first thought, but I don’t say it out loud because Milo doesn’t deserve my pessimism. “Hey, Milo.” I kneel on the cold steps of his elementary school. Kids walk past us, some bleary-eyed and others as chatty as Milo. “One day, you are going to do incredible things for science. But today? Today, you get to tackle third grade.” I press a kiss to his exposed forehead.
“I know I will.” He smirks at me before taking off toward the front doors, his backpack thumping against his back as he runs. I stand on those steps as kids rush past, my eyes following his small form until he’s inside and running toward his classroom. Then and only then do I turn around.
“Charlotte.” Desmond nearly startles me with his presence. His gray knit hat is pulled low on his forehead, and those dark eyes take me in with interest, but the cup of coffee in his hand surprises me the most. “A peace offering for being too harsh with you.”
“I accept.” I take the steaming cup of coffee and sip. It’s the perfect temperature, and… “Coconut creamer.” The particular taste of coconut explodes on my tongue. There isn’t anything wrong with regular creamer, but there is just something about coconut that sings to me. It’s my go-to, and the fact that this stranger picked up on it… It sets me on edge.
“I’m observant, Charlotte.” He jerks his head to the side after answering my unspoken question, reading me far too easily. “Walk with me.”
I take one long look at the front doors, where the principal stands, greeting every child by name. I know the door will lock once they close it. “Yeah.” I turn back to the mysterious Desmond Black. “All right.”
Wearing his long black coat that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe combined, he leads me across the street and toward the corner.
I take note of him and his domineering presence. He greets every single person we pass and every person who sits on their porch, and even the crossing guards look at him with stars in their eyes. Even more, like the principal, he greets them by their first name. He asks about their kids and their spouses and gives suggestions.
Once we clear the mingling parents and guardians, he grins at me. It changes his entire demeanor, making him softer and more approachable. That damn scar on his bottom lip taunts me. “Tell me about that night, Charlotte.”
Clearing my throat, I take a sip of my coffee and slow my pace. “Here?”
“Would you rather wait until we get back to your apartment?” he asks, giving me a choice.
“I’d prefer that, yes.” Even though I don’t think anyone would listen in on our conversation, I can’t help but feel as though we should keep this private.
I also partially want to ask him about last night, and I haven’t decided whether I will. After I finally fell asleep, Milo woke me mere hours later.
I thought I’d feel fear when walking back into the kitchen this morning, but I didn’t, just that blasted curiosity. When I looked at the basement door, it wasn’t just locked, but someone also added a deadbolt.
All while I slept.
The basement windows also had new locks on them, and there wasn’t a single shred of evidence aside from the new locks that there was ever a body in my basement.
I searched every inch of that basement for something, anything, and I found nothing.
Although I woke up feeling safe, I wondered if I dreamt everything. Until I saw that deadbolt, I gaslit myself into believing it was all a dream.
“Desmond Black.” Jani’s voice draws me out of my thoughts and into the present. Jani stands on the sidewalk before us, and we pause. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at Desmond with a lovesick expression.
What annoys me, however, is Simon, who’s wearing Milo’s hat that my mother made. I’d snatch it off his head if he weren’t a child, but Milo’s words about him perhaps just needing a hat echo in my head, and I can’t bring myself to take it from him.
Or say anything.
