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I shake the thoughts out of my head and snap back to the present. Dave Sobaski has apparently returned home as a warm light glows from behind his curtains. I can see the shadow of him moving inside his apartment, but it’s not nearly enough to get a clear shot. I’ll have to wait for him to open his curtains. Goddammit.
Without taking my eyes off of the window of his apartment, I pull my phone from my coat pocket. I position the screen so I can still see Dave’s window and pull up the feed of Faith in her bedroom.
She’s asleep on her bed. Facing me—well, the camera I installed in a picture frame facing her bed. Her hair falls slightly into her face. I watch her breathe up and down and wish I could curl my body around her.
Suddenly, the screen freezes as a call comes through.
It’s Tony.
Confident that no one below will hear me, I answer the call, putting the phone to my ear. The wind is still howling around me, so I cup my hand over my mouth and the speaker to block the sound.
“Well, Merry Christmas, Tony.”
“You, too. Now, Vincent. Is it done yet?” he growls, getting straight to the point.
“Not yet,” I respond, gritting my teeth. Tony gets in moods like this lately, where he believes that everything could be done better, even if you’re already the best at the job.
Suddenly, Dave opens his window curtains.
“Hang on, Tony. Clear shot,” I say into the phone before setting it on the ground and resuming my position with the rifle. Dave Sobaski is shirtless, leaning against his window, one cheek pressed right to the glass. Admiring the snow, no doubt.
Dumb motherfucker.
Trigger. Pull.Pssssh. A small crack.
“Happy goddamned holiday,” I mutter under my breath as the bullet whizzes through the window.
With a newfound hole in his forehead, Dave falls backward onto the floor of his rented room. I pick my phone back up.
“All right, Tony. Done.”
“Good. I need to talk to you about something.”
I stop, not even asking what. I know Tony will continue on with or without my acknowledgment.
“You’ve been distracted lately, Vincent. Not yourself. Is there something wrong?” He’s not asking me out of concern. The edge to his voice belays a threat. He doesn’t mean,tell me your troubles; he meansstay in line.
“I’m fine. I got the job done, didn’t I?”
“You sure did. Just trying to watch out for you. Make sure there is no problem, you know.”
“There is no problem,” I assure him, getting really pissed by how personal he is getting with me.
“Good.” He hangs up without saying goodbye.
An uneasy feeling is gnawing on me. Tony is acting off, and my mind immediately goes to Faith. If someone finds out about my obsession with her, she will be in danger, and that includes my boss. He would see her as my weakness, and that would be a weakness to him by default.
Before I begin to pack up my rifle, I decide to delete the live feed app from my phone. On the drive home, I vow that I will delete it from my computer as soon as I arrive home.
It pains me to give that up, but I will not put her in any danger.
Time to quit. For Faith’s sake.
7
FAITH
After that disasterwith David and Vincent, I’m too exhausted to function, so I go upstairs and into my room, where I flop down onto the bed. I lie looking up at my ceiling for a few minutes, reliving the bizarre front porch showdown again and again. It was shameful, but watching Vincent breathing hard, veins popping out of his neck, glaring at David like he wanted to kill him…well, it was terrifying. But it was also really, really hot. Part of me hoped that he would lose control, lift me over his shoulder, and take me across the street and into his house.
