Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Rhys
Waking next to Noah again is nice, in a way.
The way an octopus climbs into the middle of my bed and stretches.
But also in a warmer, cozier way, where I can wrap my arms around him just before the alarm sounds.
It keeps him right where I can see him all the time. He sleeps as if he trusts the world.
Like nothing will touch him while he’s here.
That’s a dangerous assumption.
I also like the fact that he makes tea before his morning shower, which means I find a perfect steaming cup waiting for me in the kitchen.
Life is perfect. For a few minutes, I almost believe it.
Except for the fact that Noah’s parents are camped outside the practice waiting to tell the world how much they love the idea of their son more than they love him.
Except for the kennels full of mothers and pups.
Except for the strange man who dared to look at Noah after our meal out.
But I can resolve one of them before Noah finds both his shoes.
I head to the practice and corner Stan for a quiet word.
“Noah’s parents are likely to turn up today.”
“Don't even ask,” Stan stops me in my tracks. “I don't care if you're asking me to feature them or not, the answer is no. I saw everything I needed yesterday.”
“Thank you.” It's good to know I wasn't the only one who noticed how off the vibe was between them and their son.
I'm probably the only one who considered the logistics of killing them, though. Not that they fit my half-hearted attempt at a moral code.
Next, I check outside where their car had been parked. Nothing there. Nothing but a big open void across the car park. The grass beyond that which costs me a grand per month to keep it as picture worthy grass.
I need to do something with it so it can earn its keep.
Not that I'll mention it to Noah. He'll suggest a herd of mini goats or something equally ridiculous. I'm sure I can manage to do that myself. Some kind of outdoor dog run for the growing amount of routine operations we've been doing.
No. Not practical, but something will come.
But…
Something shifts behind the tree line.
Not wind.
Not an animal. Too deliberate.
I stop walking.
Watch.
Wait.
For a second… just a second… I see the outline of a man.
Still. Watching.
Not moving when I move.
Then he’s gone.
The memory of the man in the shadows returns from the restaurant.
I change direction without thinking.
My movements change. Slower. Quieter. Outside, I walk with a casual purpose. I can't hide my actions from anyone hiding at my destination, and I don't want to. Let him see me coming. I want him to know I’ve seen him. That he made a mistake. Let him see the raging bull I'm unleashing if I find him.
But I also need the practice behind me to see a sane man.
I know I won't find anyone in the trees; the distance feels too long. Too exposed.
If he runs, I won’t catch him. But I want to spook him enough to make him run. To make his heart pound in his chest and a cold sweat break out across his body.
Because when I catch him, I’m taking that pounding heart right out of his body.
By the time I get to the trees, there's nothing unusual there. Well, except me creeping around the trees like I'm sniffing for ideas. I am too late.
The grass is flattened behind the tree; the delicate dew drops clinging to each blade of grass seem disturbed in a jagged line leading to the edge of my land.
Beyond the boundary fence is a farmer's field.
I'm staying on his good side, buttering him up in case I ever need to convince him to sell me some land.
I don't need more room yet. There is still space on my own land left to develop, but I still can't go chasing a ghost across his field.
I'll chalk this one up to paranoia, but I'll be obsessing over this part of the garden until I'm certain there is no one out here.
Back inside, I'm still on high alert. Danger seems to lurk everywhere. I'm not used to this. The danger isn't pointing at me. I'd prefer it if it were. I enjoy taking danger head-on. Breaking it. Ending it.
This is different. This is a danger lurking behind me, not after me, but targeting the one thing I can't convince to stay in the same room with me. The danger is targeting Noah and I don't like this feeling.
Okay, so the danger is only his parents and a weirdo waiting outside a public restaurant, but I know danger and it's here.
“Martha, I want someone checking the cameras whenever possible, especially down the bottom of the carpark by the green.” I flash her my best attempt at a normal smile, but I see the way she flinches.
I need to convince her that I'm sane. “Two reasons. I'd like to know how many clients use that part of the car park, and I also want to know the second Noah’s parents return.”
They are the type of people who will return until they get what they want. My eyes glanced at the same tree where I had seen someone.
I'm not sure his parents ever left. Or if they’re the only ones watching.