Chapter 13
LIA
I’m in the break room with Tessa, the doctor I’m closest with here at the hospital. She’s only a few years older than me and a serious inspiration. She’s tall, neat, and extremely smart. She wears her red hair short. I’ve just asked her what she’d do if a man she liked was secretly watching her.
The look on her face tells me it was a mistake. “Watching you?”
“I’m not asking for me,” I say quickly. “I’m reading a book about it and it got me thinking, that’s all. They have crazy chemistry and they feel strongly about each other. But he was watching her without her knowing.” I shrug. “Just curious what you’d think.”
She relaxes a little, buying my lie. I feel bad, but it’s not like I can tell her anything that’s going on. The hospital is experiencing a minor scandal because of Daniel’s sudden disappearance. Patients discharging themselves is nothing new, but vanishing? That’s a different matter entirely.
Now that Tessa thinks we’re talking about a book, she brightens up. “Is this guy hot?”
I think about last night, how reckless I became after reading his messages. It was like I went into a completely different state, every inch of my skin burning. I don’t understand how something as simple as texting can produce that response in me, but it did.
“Yes, very,” I murmur.
“Does he want the best for her, or is he some unhinged psycho?”
I tap my chin. “Both?”
She laughs. “Can a man be both?”
“I think so,” I reply. “He can be a psycho… but nice to her?”
“Except for the watching part?”
Or maybe as well as the watching part, but I don’t say that. It’s a confusing mess. I’m relieved when another nurse pops her head into the room and demands Tessa’s attention. She’ll forget about this conversation in a few minutes, once she’s immersed in the chaos of saving lives.
His messages weren’t just hot yesterday. They were intimate and caring too.
I glance at the window, my breath catching. Is he serious?
Maksim is sitting across the street in his car, staring right at the hospital.
I check how much longer I’ve got left—a few minutes, if that—and quickly rush outside.
He climbs from the car, rising to his full, massive height.
After the steamy texting, there’s a new atmosphere between us, like any second we’re ready to collapse against each other.
The emotions are complicated. The physical chemistry? Not so much.
“I thought you were done with the whole stalking thing?” I say, trying to keep my voice firm. I can’t help it. There’s a weird relief in being able to lose control.
“I thought you were talking about the cameras,” he says in his low, gravelly voice.
I roll my eyes. “Does this seem better to you?”
“I wanted to see you,” he says, like that explains everything.
A silence passes. We eye-fuck the hell out of each other, even while I’m pretending not to. Maksim is definitely more talkative over text. On the phone, he’d be much more expressive. But I think he finds it difficult in person. Maybe it’s a lifetime of conditioning.
“Satisfied with what you see?” I ask.
“More than satisfied,” he says, reaching out as if to touch me.
I step back, gesturing to the hospital. “It’s weird enough I’m staying in some secretive millionaire’s safehouse, guarded by people I can’t even see when I try. I don’t want any workplace gossip added on top of that. Anyway, I still haven’t decided if I forgive you.”
“I did a strange thing,” he says, voice deep and husky. “But I can’t apologize.”
I blink, then blink some more. Is he serious? “So you know it was wrong, but you can’t apologize?”
“Pretty much,” he says, with a small, infuriating smile. It’s infuriating because it makes me want to smile too.
“Am I still in danger?” I ask. “Do I need to stay at your place?”
His smile vanishes. His expression grows dark. He looks at me like I imagine he must look at everyone else, without any of the light entering his eyes. It’s the first time I’ve truly understood just how terrifying he is.
“Yes,” he says fiercely. “Don’t get any silly ideas. In this town, people are always watching. That’s before you even get started on… my business.”
“Your blackmailing criminal enterprise, you mean.”
“Never say anything like that to anyone else,” he snaps.
“Or what?”
He steps forward, heat radiates from his muscular body.
I’m stunned by the atmosphere between us, the small gestures, like him raising his hand then lowering it.
Like he needs to remind himself not to touch me.
Or the way I twist my head, then stop when his savage gaze flits to my neck as though he’s a vampire debating taking what he believes is his.
“I’ll be forced to hurt the people who try to hurt you,” he growls. “No one can know you understand anything about this.”
“Hurt them, like give them a slap on the wrist? Or something worse?”
He just looks at me. Bleak, dark, terrifying. How can I want this man when it’s so easy to see how he can spread fear through this city?
“You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
“You can’t come here anymore,” I tell him. “If you want me, text me. But you can’t just show up at my work. I’ve got enough to worry about without letting my breaks run on all afternoon. In fact, I might be in trouble now just for talking with you.”
His frown deepens.
“This is stalking with conditions, tough guy,” I say. “Can you handle that?”
“Perhaps,” he says, voice low.
“Promise.”
“I promise I’ll text you if I slip up,” he says, then turns to his car.
I stare at his back, his broad shoulders, his muscled arms, his everything.
This is all madness, but there’s a feeling buried beneath that.
Excitement. For the longest time, my life has been a grief-stricken routine, self-repressed order, one day rolling into the next while I try to pretend I’m not torn up on the inside.
Now, there’s something to look forward to. It’s not perfect. It’s messy and confusing. But I still want it.
What does that say about me?
I hurry back into the hospital, deciding not to answer that question.
I drive to Mom’s place, glancing in the rearview mirror to see if I can spot the security. Three cars back, I’m pretty sure that’s them. But I can’t be sure. It’s reassuring and a little scary to know they can tail me so easily. I wouldn’t have any idea if Maksim hadn’t told me.
Mom is sleeping when I get in. I shake her lightly, whispering I’m going to make her some dinner. She wakes with a start, her eyes full of a hope I recognize well. She was dreaming about Evan. Her face drops when she realizes it’s me.
“That sounds lovely,” she says in a hollow voice.
I bury my resentment as I go into the kitchen and start a simple pasta dish. But there’s only so long I can keep this all buried. I love my mother. I just wish she could find it in her heart to love me the same way too.
As I’m chopping tomatoes, my phone lights up.
It’s Maksim, with an absolutely inappropriate message. It makes me laugh the moment I see it. He’s sent a binocular emoji. I can’t believe I’m smiling as I pick up my phone and shoot a text back.
Lia: Are you seriously making light of this?
Maksim: Too soon?
Lia: Way too soon. You’ll need to try harder than a silly little emoji.
Maksim: You smiled though, didn’t you? Just give me that.
Lia: I’m just struggling to handle this whiplash, that’s all. You are NOT like this in person.
Maksim: I’ve spent my entire life being cold and withdrawn. Give a man a break.
Lia: Oh, my heart bleeds for the stalker.
Maksim: Thank you, but don’t bleed too much.
I laugh again. It’s easy, effortless, and it becomes difficult to remember how angry I’m supposed to be. I’m starting to get sick of worrying about how I should feel. But, at the same time, Tessa’s reaction to even a fictional version of this tells me how screwed it is.
Lia: Have you stuck to your promise?
Maksim: I deleted the access to the CCTV. It was the only way I knew I could be sure.
Lia: Is that flattering or freaky?
Maksim: A combination of both, I imagine. What are you doing?
Lia: Surely you know where I am?
Maksim: I’m trusting my team with your security.
Lia: Going cold turkey on the whole stalking thing?
Maksim: Trying to. I may be getting withdrawals though.
I smile, which probably means I’m just as cracked as he is. I look up when I realize Mom has walked into the room. She seems more like her old self for a fleeting moment, a wry look on her face. She has moments like this, as if she’s forgotten she’s supposed to be miserable.
“You look happy.” She sounds surprised.
“Do I?” I murmur.
She nods, smiling a little. Hope floods into me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that before.” She narrows her eyes, and now she’s completely like the old version of herself. “Let me guess! You’re seeing somebody?”
I roll my eyes. This mother-daughter connection is so simple, probably happening thousands of times across the world, and yet it feels like our most special interaction in years.
“Maybe,” I murmur. “Sort of.”
She rushes over to me. “You need to tell me everything.”
Yeah, right…
“It’s early days,” I say. For me, anyway. “When things are more solid, we can talk about it.”
She huffs. “Fine, but I’m holding you to that promise. He must be special to make you smile like that.” A moment later, her gaze moves to a picture of Evan on the wall, and the life drains from her.
I’ve thought about telling her to remove the picture many times, but how can I?
“Do you remember when he wanted to be a police officer?” she says in a distant voice. “Do you remember that little hat he had?”
I pull her into my arms, holding her, just like Maksim held me. There’s some irony there… here she is, talking about the little boy with the bright smile who wanted to set the world right. Meanwhile, I may be falling for a man who does the exact opposite.