Chapter 2 #2
I make it to Carroll Gardens in six. The rain has thinned to a drizzle and the street is mostly empty, which is ideal. Puffing, I take my usual position in the doorway of the building across the street, second alcove from the left, and settle in.
Poor Yorick Books is lit up from the inside.
Through the window, I can see the top of Noemi's dark head moving between the shelves as she does whatever she does at the end of the day.
Counts the till, probably. Straightens the shelves.
Talks to herself, sometimes, though I've never been able to hear what she says, only seen her lips move.
I've been doing this for months now and I’m anxious to hear every spare thought that trips into her head. But I’m also a cautious man.
I hang back, out of sight. That’s what I do.
The rope comes out of my pocket without me deciding to take it out. I tie and untie the same knot. Figure 8, loop, pull, release. Again. It's not something I think about anymore. My hands know how to craft the knot without any thought on my parts.
I look up at the offices on the second floor of the building.
They might seem innocuous, but that’s the spot that the Vitelli family moved into a few months ago.
I wouldn’t have met my pretty girl if I weren’t doing surveillance on the Vitellis, trying to track the comings and goings of the King brothers’ rivals.
Ransom assigned this job to me because I’m the best at being invisible, and he wants to exercise caution before moving in on the Vitellis’ arms business. But Ransom didn’t know that I was going to meet the woman of my dreams.
The light in the bookstore shifts. Noemi’s moving toward the front, her coat already on, her bag over her shoulder. She’s petite; why she is allowed to open and close the store by herself, I have no idea. She's got her keys in her hand and she's frowning. Distracted.
Her dark hair splashes down her slender shoulders like an ink spill.
She looks tired, her face drawn, dark circles under her eyes.
Has she been sleeping? I’ve been very good lately, staying out of her apartment, letting her be.
But I may have to break in again if I think she’s having trouble sleeping.
Noemi pushes through the door and I go still. Her gorgeous, dark toffee gaze sweeps the street, but she doesn’t see me. She should be more aware of her surroundings. I could be anyone.
Look at the garbage I got rid of for her earlier today.
This is the part where I should leave. I've confirmed she's fine, she's closing up, the Vitelli activity upstairs has been normal today. Two cars, three men, nothing unusual. My job is done. Ransom wanted eyes on the building, and I've given him eyes on the building.
Now I should go back to the Tara and report in, eat something and sleep.
Instead, I watch her lock the door. My heart pounds in my chest, faster than it did when I put the knife to Zack’s neck.
I love this part. Being invisible, tracking my prey, keeping tabs.
She jiggles the handle twice to make sure it caught. She always does that. Then she tucks her keys into the front pocket of her bag and pulls her coat tighter and starts walking.
I give her half a block and then I follow. Noemi takes the long way home tonight.
My phone buzzes. I check it without slowing my pace.
You're doing the thing again, Ransom texts.
I look up from my phone. Noemi turns left at the corner.
I text back, Building's quiet.
That's not what I'm talking about.
I put my phone in my pocket. He can wait.
She stops at the corner bodega and comes out a minute later with what looks like a bag of chips and a green tea. She eats one chip standing on the sidewalk, looking around like she’s searching for something. Maybe she feels my gaze, although I’m tucked in a doorway, out of sight.
What if today is the day she sees me watching?
Just talk to her, Beast says.
I don't answer him.
You're going to stand in the rain for another two hours watching her window and then go home and lie in your bed and stare at the ceiling.
"Probably," I say under my breath.
This is insane. I say that as the voice in your head.
"I'm aware."
Noemi starts off, then quickly turns onto her street. I slow down, keeping my distance. Her building is the third one on the right. Second floor, window that faces the street. She goes up the steps and the door closes behind her.
I lean against the wall across the street and watch the lights come on.
My phone buzzes again.
Hale texts me a thumbs-up. Even in his texts, the guy’s silent. I send him a thumbs-up in return and put my phone away.
The light in Noemi's window goes on. I can see her shadow moving across the ceiling when she crosses the room. What is she doing? Maybe putting down her coat, flicking on the lamps, getting ready to take a bath.
The rope goes through my fingers. Figure 8, loop, pull, release.
I can’t approach the object of my fascination.
I've thought about it, obviously. I'm not a monk, I have an imagination, and Beast has a very active fantasy life that he shares with me whether I want him to or not.
But approaching her would mean she'd know about me, which would mean the people who know about me would eventually know about her.
Which is not something I'm going to let happen.
I've seen what happens to the things men like me care about.
If anyone knew Noemi mattered to me, they would use her against me. She'd be dead or living in someone’s basement by morning.
I’ve determined that Noemi can't matter.
She doesn't exist in this world. She exists in a blissfully unaware state, on the other side of the glass, safe inside the sealed compartment where nothing can get to her because nothing knows she's there.
That's the deal I've made with myself.
Beast thinks that’s the stupidest deal I've ever made and he's been cataloguing them since I was a child.
The light in her window goes steady. She's settled. She's fine.
I pull out my phone and call Ransom.
He picks up on the second ring. "Report."
"The Vitelli offices are quiet. Nothing unusual."
"Good." A pause. "You're still on her street."
It's not a question, so I don't bother answering it.
"Rian." His voice is careful in the way Ransom gets sometimes. "The Vitelli activity has been escalating for three weeks. Whatever they're running out of that office, it's bigger than we thought."
"I know."
"It means more eyes on that block. More men in and out. More chances that somebody notices you noticing them." Another pause. "Or notices what else you're watching."
My hand tightens on the phone.
"I'll be careful," I say.
"You're always careful. That's not what I'm worried about." He leaves it there.
He doesn't push. He just makes sure you've heard him.
And I've heard him. I’m just not taking his advice.
"I'll be back by midnight," I say.
"Fine." He hangs up.
I look up at Noemi's window. The light is still on. She's still awake.
I stay until she turns it off.