Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I watch him go, my heart pounding in my ears.
“What are you thinking?” he asks and I jump. I forgot we were still on the phone.
I slam the door and lock it. “I’m thinking you’re full of surprises.”
“Good. I look forward to our next movie date.”
Then the line goes dead, and I’m left alone in my house, my head dizzy, not sure what the hell just happened.
Chapter 42
Conlan
It isn’t easy talking my wife while running a massive corporate and criminal enterprise. Fortunately, I have reliable subordinates, and I manage to do a lot of business over the phone.
There’s a lot of boredom. That’s the nature of stalking. I stare at her house and imagine what she’s doing in there—what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling. Sometimes, Allison stops by and chats, but we’re careful to avoid the topic of Isabel. I send them gifts, meals, flowers, whatever I can think of to make their lives easier. I make sure Isabel’s provided for at the diner. Even Allison gets a long leash, and I start to trust her. The Lincoln job’s good for her, and Lisa says the girl’s finally starting to mature.
“I took your advice,” I say one night about a week after I had phone sex with Isabel. I can still taste her fingers on my lips. “And it’s going… strangely well.”
“How’s that?” Erick asks. He’s not much of a phone guy, but I don’t have any other options.
“I’ve been stalking her. I mean literally, stalking her.”
“I kind of meant that as a metaphor.”
“I think she likes it. Or at least she doesn’t actively hate it. We’ve been watching movies together—”
“That doesn’t sound like stalking.”
“I’m in my truck and she’s in her house.”
“Huh.” He sounds unimpressed, but that’s typical. “All right. So are you gonna just watch her from a distance forever?”
“We crossed a line recently. I think things are changing.”
“Let me ask you something. If you get her back, what are you going to do?”
I consider it for a moment. “Keep her.”
“That’s a good answer, but it isn’t enough. Stay her husband? Make her your wife? Have babies?”
“Yes. To all of that.”
“Huh.”
“Anyway, I just called to say you were right all those months ago. Turns out, I’m just as big a freak as our eldest brother.”
“I’ll make sure to tell him that.”
“Go for it.” I sigh, stretching my legs. “You know, it’s amazing how you can get to know someone from a distance. Just watching her habits, her routines. It’s like I’ve gotten a glimpse into her as a person in a way that nobody else could.”
“Spoken like a true stalker. Are you outside her house right now?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You do realize this has the potential to blow up in your face, yeah? If she decided to get documentation, she could get a restraining order.”
“I’m risking it.”
“Good.” He grunts again. “All right I’m getting off the phone. Don’t get arrested.”
He hangs up, leaving me alone in the truck again.
Isabel isn’t going to get a restraining order. She’s not going to call the police, or get the authorities involved in any way, because she likes this.
She’s a freak too, only she didn’t realize it.
I think she’s starting to understand now.
Her blinds open. She appears in the window upstairs and waves. It’s our nightly routine. I flash my lights and wave too, though I’m not sure she can ever see me. Then she disappears back inside and the light in her room goes off.
Bedtime. I picture her wrapped in sheets and blankets, dreaming comfortable dreams. I stay for a while long, make sure she’s down, then drive around the corner to the house I bought when all this started. It’s my crash pad, barely more than a mattress and a hot shower. I set my alarm, get some rest, then I’m up and back in the truck before she’s awake.
The days pass. We watch more movies. I get her off over the phone a couple more times, and each time I go to her door and lick her fingers clean. It’s a sick ritual, but I fucking love it; when I get back to my truck, I stroke my cock and come so hard I nearly black out.
More weeks pass. I can’t recall the last time I’ve been this content. One evening, Allison stops at my truck on her way home from the Lincoln.
“When are you two going to finally start seeing each other for real?”
“Maybe never.”
“Come on. This isn’t about your lie anymore.”
“I know that.”
“You can’t do this forever, you know.” He jabs a finger at me. “Even I’ve heard the rumors. People are starting to talk at work. They know you’re living in your car.”
“I’m not living here.”
“Whatever, they’re worried.” She leans against my door, arms crossed over her chest as she stares at Isabel’s house. “Why don’t you just stop being weirdos and be together?”