“Did you ever think that keeping it quiet makes it look like a bigger deal than it is?”
My anger rises. “Just do your job.”
Either he forgets I can see him, or he doesn't care. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes in plain sight. “I'm done. On my way out now.”
“Wait,” I whisper when a familiar car pulls up from the other direction. “I think she's coming.”
“Son of a bitch.” Just like that, he disappears, the bedroom door opening and closing. The phone goes dead, too, leaving me with no idea whether he’s escaping. I guess I’ll know soon enough.
My gaze darts back and forth between the footage on the tablet of the bedroom and the Corolla, whose headlights shut off a moment before the driver's door opens. At that moment, everything else ceases to exist. I don't care that Roger has to sneak out of the house while Caterina and Charles unload groceries at the curb.
I don't care that a detective would probably have a nose like a bloodhound and would be able to sniff out a stranger's presence. Roger's intelligent enough not to wear cologne or anything that would give him away, except Charles is a real pain in the ass, determined to fuck with my life. I wouldn't be surprised if he picked up on something being off, no matter how good Roger is at his job.
All of it falls away at the sight of her. How has it only been two days? I feast my eyes on her beauty, soaking it in the way parched earth soaks in the rain. My mouth goes dry, and I forget to breathe, too busy taking in every detail to worry about something like keeping myself alive.
The way she laughs and how she grumbles when Charles takes one of the bags from her like he thinks it's too heavy for her to manage. At least I know I'm not the only man whose opinion she brushes off.
For one wild, breathless moment, I see myself getting out of the car. Facing her. Daring her to ignore me now. Demanding she come home, where she belongs. With me, in my arms, in my bed. Where I can watch over her, protect her, worship her.
That's all I want to do. Why can't she see that? What do I have to do to open her eyes to the reality of us needing each other?
“Look at me,” I whisper as she and her father cross the sidewalk and approach the front porch. “See me. Know I'm here. This is what you've made me do. These are the lengths I have to go to if I want to look after you. Know that I haven't given up. I would never give up on you, even if you think you’ve given up on me.”
While Charles unlocks the front door, she does, in fact, look out over the street. Absently, though, her gaze drifting over houses and cars. She looks straight past me, through me, and I grit my teeth to hold back a roar of frustration. How can I sit here without her knowing I’m right here? Can't she feel me the same way I still feel her? Did I make that little of an impression on her?
With a blink of my eyes, she’s gone. The lights inside flicker on and I wait, holding my breath, staring at the house. Waiting for a scream, a gunshot, something, anything.
Instead, my heart leaps into my chest when the passenger door opens. I reach for my Glock out of sheer reflex. “It's only me.” Roger ducks into the car and slams the door before leaning back in the seat, panting. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “I cut through two backyards and nearly broke my ankle on a swing set. I’m not as good at hopping fences as I was when I was a kid.”
Considering nothing out of the ordinary is coming from the house—no Charles darting out onto the porch, looking around, nothing out of place—it seems like he made it out safely. “Good work.”
“Thanks.” He turns his head to look at me, his brow furrowed. “Are we leaving or…?”
Right. We have to go. As much as it tears me to pieces to leave, it's my only option. It won't be enough, watching her or listening to her soft voice thanks to the camera’s microphone. I know that now. Seeing her hasn't lessened my craving—just the opposite. I need her more than I did before.
I have to get her back beside me, by any means necessary. And when I do, it’s going to be different. No more secrets, no lies. I’ve learned my lesson.
If it’s a choice between keeping things to myself and losing her, I’ll force myself to open up. I’ll tell her everything there is to know about me.
However, I will not jeopardize her safety. That, she can’t ask me to do.
Deep down right now, it pains me to know she’s safer than she ever was with me.
I push the doubt aside before pulling away from the curb, forcing myself to leave her.
It’s not forever, I remind myself. We’ll be together again, and when that time comes, I’ll make it so she can never escape me.