2 | Liam #4
I have been stalking her for the two weeks we have been staying in this town, and they haven’t suspected it yet.
I will admit I choose to remain only at her place of work, which isn’t, on its own, an unusual habit for me.
I always pick diners and cafes to spend my days in each town when we are not hunting anyway, so when I started doing it in this one, the boys didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary.
I think they even liked the fact that I was gone from the house more than usual.
They figured I just found this particular town more entertaining than the rest. I enjoy watching normal people go about their lives, and there is nothing more normal than the morning crowd of a diner in a small town.
Of course, I usually stay in the realm of just people-watching, but something this time has changed, and that’s a fact they don’t know.
Which is a good thing, because I would hate for this woman to end up running for her life in the maze.
I love my chosen family; they are all I have got.
But I would burn in hell before I allowed them to hurt her.
I am not sure why I got so attached to this woman.
We have barely spoken. It might be because I feel lonely, or because she is just unique.
It might just be the fact that I was bored or jealous of the guys having each other.
We will never know. I don’t really wish to look into what drove me to start stalking her; it doesn’t really matter.
The reason is lost in the madness of the situation, and it should forever remain there, because knowing might also bring the guilt I have been avoiding, and I can’t bear more guilt in my life.
The drive back is about three hours, with ten additional minutes to reach her house.
It is already five in the morning when I reach her street, and I know her schedule well.
If I am lucky enough, she will have her curtains open, giving me the perfect view from her backyard while she gets ready for her day.
I have only done this once before. I convinced myself it was just to learn her schedule—just to be cautious, to be able to hide her better.
But I am not that delusional, and I know well this wasn’t the reason at all.
That night, very much like this one, I needed to see her the most because the guilt and regret burned louder, like they do tonight.
And she is the only remedy for my torture, even if she will never know it.
I park two houses down the road and walk to hers, jumping over the fence into her yard.
I walk right to the spot under her window and look up.
She is already up, and her curtains are open, as I was hoping.
The small blessings in life. A glimpse into her window is everything I could ask for in just a moment tonight.
People like me can’t be greedy with their wishes; fate isn’t kind to those who play against her rules.
I keep my eyes focused on her, trying to silence those pesky thoughts of guilt that are trying to creep into my mind again.
She is beautiful. She is brushing her hair in front of her mirror, wearing only a lace thong and a T-shirt cropped right above her belly button.
Her body is toned with muscle from working all day on her feet, and I know for a fact she hasn't worked out a day in her life or ever watched her diet—it’s just a reasonable assumption if you consider the fact that she works all day, then returns to a house inhabited by a father who favors his bottle a little too much.
This woman has taken on multiple roles in her life early on, before she even had the chance to choose them.
She is a waitress for the patrons of the small diner, a housewife taking care of the home after her mother’s passing, a daughter caring for her drunk father when the alcohol in his system makes even the simplest tasks hard to accomplish.
And even with all that her body has to endure day in and day out, she is still beautiful.
Her skin has an olive tone from the sun, a contrast to her blue eyes.
Her long, black, curly hair reaches her waist, and she gathers it all in a ponytail, leaving out two framing pieces strategically placed around the front of her face.
She has no ink on her, and I love how clean and innocent she looks, even though I doubt she is innocent at all.
She has the most beautiful, piercing blue eyes I have ever seen.
They hold a darkness inside them—a power no one has ever noticed.
I watch her as she walks to her bed where her uniform is laid out, ready for her.
As she is putting the pink fabric against her skin, I decide it is time for me to leave.
I don’t look back as I walk toward the fence and jump over it like I did before.
I walk back to my car without glancing back, as if it’s completely normal that I just jumped over the fence of a house I don’t live at.
The sky is bright now, and the sun has come out.
I know it’s time to get back before the boys start to wonder where I am.
I open the driver’s side door and get inside, checking my phone before I start driving.
No messages. They are pretty busy, I assume.
Good; I don’t need them asking questions. What they don’t know can’t hurt them...