Chapter Twenty
Gavin
Why the fuck did I do this again? I walked away from Juni after I said I wouldn’t.
My mind has been racing since I left. I haven’t slept; I just keep watching the ceiling fan spin.
My mind is playing fucking games on me. I imagined every little bruise that I could see on her.
Every flinch. Every breath she struggled through.
I can still hear her voice pleading, “Please don’t leave me.
” And I did because she was upset and told me to.
I’ve never hated myself more. So I decided to do something. Suppose I can’t be with her yet…for who knows how long. I’m going to prove to her that she chose wrong.
I’m going to watch Reece. Learn his patterns, mannerisms, and his routines. Every little fucking thing. My goal is to prove to Juni that she needs to leave, and that he won’t change.
He works with his cousin Ricky. They both run their demo business.
But Reece has been picking up a few small jobs.
That only pay cash. I’m going to take a wild guess as to why he is in desperate need of money.
He’s predictable, really. Coming home late, appearing to be high on anything he can get his hands on.
He’s off. Reece is a creature of habit. They cling to control.
I find him at his first job site of the week, a half-finished remodel on the edge of town, the kind of project where the contractor clearly stopped giving a shit about months ago.
I get parked across the street. I decided to be smart and take my bike, so he will have no idea it’s me. Since he probably knows my truck.
He shows up twenty-three minutes late. Cute. He doesn’t notice me at first. But when he walks to the work truck to grab his tools, he stops. Turns his head to see if someone is watching him. That instinct all abusers have is the sense someone’s watching. Good. I am watching you.
He sees me sitting on my bike, hands in my pockets. No emotions showing. But I’m not threatening. I’m just sitting there. I don’t know if he knows my face, so I have a half-mask on that only lets you see my eyes.
He keeps looking over at me, growing more uncomfortable as time passes.
Like, he recognizes my energy, but he can't figure out who I am... thanks to the mask, I guess. I just keep looking at him, arms now crossed and settled on my abdomen. He chickens out first and looks away. Oh... what, don’t you like to be challenged, hmm?
He shakes it off and gets to work, movements almost hurried, almost like he’s nervous.
His eyes keep flicking to the street more than they should.
Every few minutes, he checks his phone like he’s looking for a text from someone.
I don’t move. I’m enjoying watching him squirm.
I want him distracted. I want mistakes. I want him to fail.
I’m mentally taking notes of everything. The way he tenses. The way his jaw goes tight when a truck passes too slowly. He keeps turning his back to me on the street like that will make me disappear. It won’t. Men like him live in denial. Living in denial is going to get you killed, Reece.
I guess he has had enough of me. He walks over, continues to his truck, grabs the tools, and disappears inside. I wait.
Letting the minutes pass and enjoying the silence until my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Pulling it out, I’m shocked to see Juni’s name on the caller I.D.
My chest constricts. I let it go to voicemail.
It was needed. I’m not ready to talk. But I am prepared to bring this mother fucker’s dark side to the light.
When Reece comes back out, he doesn’t look at me this time.
Head down, his nerves keeping his body tight.
All but jogging. Good. Fear looks better on him than control ever did.
I start the bike, the engine rumbling, just enough to make sure he hears it.
This is how it starts. I don’t touch him, I don’t say a word.
I just make sure he knows he’s not alone anymore.
Reece
I woke up late this morning, so I have been rushing to get to today’s jobsite, walking quickly to the work truck, and I stop.
The feeling of being watched floods over me.
What the fuck? I turn towards the road, and that's when I see I am being watched.
A mammoth of a man sitting casually on a Harley Davidson, dark grey in color.
The most off-putting thing to me… I can only see his eyes; he's wearing a half-mask, so he can't be identified. I wonder if it’s George who sent him.
I’ve been behind on my payments. I’m trying hard to get caught up, but that's been my life lately. Trouble has found me in every aspect of my life. I can sense he’s nothing but trouble. His presence is heavy, like a warning. Like he’s waiting for me to fuck up.
It’s lunch time, so we are making our way out to the work truck. I freeze when I hear a thunderous rumble. A motorcycle that's just started. The engine. The deep rumble hangs in the cold air like a threat. He starts revving the bike and slowly pulls away before taking off like a shot.
I don’t look right away. Don’t give whoever it is the satisfaction. But I feel it, eyes on me...Watching.
My fingers tighten until my knuckles go white.
Swallowing hard, I pretend the air isn’t suddenly too thick to breathe.
At least I don’t see the bike anymore, just the trail of exhaust drifting down the street.
Whoever it was…is gone. But not enough. My pulse picks up, sharp and fast, and I look around like I can still catch a glimpse of him.
No luck. Just an empty road, wind shaking the trees, and Ricky hammering something inside like nothing is wrong.
Of course, he doesn’t notice. Nobody notices shit unless it hits them in the face.
I drop the tools harder than I need to and scrub both hands over my face.
The back of my neck burns hot. My skin crawls.
Gavin
I decided I’m going to stop by and visit my new friend before work. I park my bike and shut it off. Making myself comfortable as I wait. New day, New job, New neighborhood. Same shit from Reece.
For a man who is paranoid, you’d think he wouldn't be so predictable, but men like Reece don’t change their patterns.
They just move them around. So far, all of his jobs are similar, familiar.
He stops at the same gas stations. Only one of the many corner stores in town.
Same shitty black stale coffee in a size large.
The air is cold, making my breath foggy.
I’m enjoying it. I’m not here to be angry.
I’m here to be strategic. It’s now twenty-seven minutes past when he was supposed to be here, his truck comes rattling up the street with its loud exhaust and grinding brakes.
One headlight is flickering, the other is dead.
Fitting. He gets out. He doesn’t see me at first. Good.
I watch the sequence unfold like I’ve seen it before because I have, not from him, but from men like him. He makes sure he has his wallet. Pats his front pockets for his phone. Starts double-checking the street. What are you scared of, Reece? You should be scared of me. But who else?
He can’t pinpoint what is wrong. Something is behind him.
Something is closing in. He heads toward the half-gutted rental house they’re supposed to be demoing today.
Ricky’s old Ford is already parked in the grass, radio playing an old country station, window down, a cigarette burning in the ashtray.
Ricky’s consistency is almost impressive. I guess you can blame their genetics.
Reece tenses, looking over his left shoulder, slower this time.
He can feel me. He just hasn't seen me yet. Let’s do something different today.
I swing a leg off the bike and quietly scan the area.
Heading in his direction. His head snaps toward me so fast his shoulders jerk.
There it is, mother fucker. Fear. He’s in the presence of a cold-blooded predator. His body jumps with recognition.
I’m just standing on the sidewalk with my hands in my pockets and indicating I’m not a threat. No aggression. Just watching. By his body language, his body is screaming fear, paralyzing him. Oh, you don’t like being the prey, do you, Reece? My cold stare doesn’t leave him until he breaks it. Again.
He nearly trips on the broken step, fumbling to get inside the rental. His hands are shaking like a little bitch.
He’s visibly losing his shit. And I haven’t said a damn word to him yet.
Satisfied, I smirk under my mask at him and start walking back to my bike. Eyes staying on him until I sit back down. He quickly disappears inside, and I settle into the seat.
I’m not here to scare you, per se, although seeing you this scared is a plus. I’m just here to figure out what she loves about you.
You're doing all the revealing for me, so this should be easy. I’m mentally mapping every habit. Every fear. Every routine is a map. And I plan to use all of this to my full advantage.
Reece
Later that evening, on my way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about that guy who kept showing up at my job sites on a bike. He’s taller than me by at least three to four inches. He’s on a mission. I couldn't determine what that was. He looks deadly, fearless.
I already know the kind of man I pissed off. The kind I owe money to. The kind who won’t knock before breaking in and snapping bones.
This guy had that look. He’s here to do a job he’s getting paid to do. I know he isn’t a cop. And I know for sure he’s not friendly. He’s a collector. Has to be.
My stomach is in knots, and I can’t tell Juni. I’ve done enough damage over the last few days. I don’t need her panicking. It’s nothing anyway. I’ll get it paid for. Deep down, I know I’m lying.
Gavin
The next day, it's all the same shit. This time, he’s not at work but in a junkyard. Cleaning out his truck bed for cash. He’s throwing random shit into piles, yelling at the kid helping him, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.