The blinking red light of the tracker showing me Lucy’s current location is mocking me from the screen. She’s at her parents’ house. Has been all night. I’ve spent that time talking myself off the fucking ledge, trying to keep myself from storming into the Christianson residence and kidnaping her from her childhood bedroom. Or at least that’s how I imagine it happening.

She’s ignored all of my messages. I already have a list of fifty guys who commented on her posts. Guys she encouraged to contact her directly. I’ve conjured up the million and one ways I can end them all. I’ll make it theatrical, force her to fucking watch. Maybe then she’ll think twice before flirting with anyone who isn’t me.

I check my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. I know she has class in an hour, a class I plan to be sitting in on. The red dot starts moving, letting me know she’s leaving her parents’ estate. Picking up my keys and wallet, I walk out the door, locking it behind me. My parents decided to stay at my place and the last thing I need is either of them seeing this room and discovering my latest obsession.

Lucy Christianson.

There are photos of her pinned up on every wall. All candid shots. Pictures she wasn’t posing for because she didn’t know I was taking them. There are also little keepsakes I’ve collected from her home.

The moment I walk into the foyer, my mum calls out, “Dominic, I’ve cooked breakie.”

Shit, I really do like my mum’s cooking. Even if it is just breakfast. I make my way to the dining room, where my dad’s seated beside my mother. The table is covered in an assortment of foods.

Bending down, I kiss my mum on her cheek. “Morning. This looks great, Mum, but I’m running late. I’ve got to get to class,” I tell her, and pick up a blueberry muffin from the table.

“You need to eat,” she scolds me.

“I am.” I hold up the muffin. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

“Okay, have a good day, sweetheart,” Mum says.

“I’ll walk you out.” My dad stands and follows me to the door. I count to twenty in my head. That’s how long it takes before we’re out of earshot of my mum. “Are you okay?” he asks me.

“Fine,” I tell him.

It’s moments like this I wish I was better at faking it. Bree is a master at blending in, looking like she’s completely fine and has all her screws in place all the time. I know differently, probably because she doesn’t pretend with me. I don’t like when my parents worry about me, so for them, I do try to act like I’m not teetering on that edge of psychopathy. Or, you know, haven’t already taken the leap and plummeted into comfortable acceptance.

“You’re not and that’s okay. You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” I say as we enter my garage.

“Then what has you all worked up? Don’t bother saying nothing. I know you, Dominic.” He’s using that tone again—the one he thinks works on me and I let him.

I sigh. “I don’t want to hurt her.” I admit the one thing that’s kept me from approaching her. That’s kept me watching her from a distance, and not allowed me to touch her.

“Then you won’t.” He says it so calmly.

“It’s not that simple. I want to hurt her. I want to feel her pain, Dad. It’s fucking messed up. But more than that, I want to watch her live. Her day-to-day bullshit. I want to watch her fucking smile. Hear her laugh.” I know by the strained look on my dad’s face that I’ve said too much. I should have kept my thoughts to myself.

“Dominic. If I thought for a second that you were going to hurt that girl, I’d have you locked up in a heartbeat. You’re not going to hurt her,” he repeats.

“How do you know?” I ask him.

“Because I have faith in you.”

“Faith?” I chuckle.

“You should try having some in yourself. Also, talk to the girl, Dominic. Let her get to know you.”

“I can’t do that. She’s too innocent for me.”

“Do you think your mother isn’t too fucking sweet and innocent for the likes of me? You might not know everything about my past, but it wasn’t all on the up-and-up, kid. I don’t deserve her, but I try every day to be worthy of her,” he says.

“You are,” I tell him. “But I really do have a class to catch, Dad. And, uh, thanks.”

“Give yourself a chance,” he calls out as I climb into my car.

“That’d be like closing my eyes and putting the entire family trust on red. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

I TAKE my spot in the back corner of the room. My eyes land on my target, who’s presently sitting halfway down the lecture hall. She has her air pods plugged in.

What are you listening to, Little Bee?

It takes me seconds to power on my laptop and hack into her MacBook. I open her Spotify playlist and pop in my earbuds. “Yellow Flicker Beat” by Lorde fills the silence. I take in the lyrics. It sounds like the kind of song a chick would listen to when they’re either pissed off with the world, or they’ve been hurt. If it’s the latter, I can’t wait to find out who the fuck’s been added to my hit list. I won’t allow anyone to hurt her. Fuck, I’m not even letting myself inflict that pain, no matter how much I want to.

As I stare at her profile, I can’t help but notice how different she looks. Like she’s torn between what to do. Her phone is in her hand and she’s tapping at the keys. I watch as her shoulders sag right at the same time my phone vibrates in my pocket.

I dig it out and see her name on my screen. I open her message.

BEE:

Do you ever feel trapped in your own skin?

I read her question over and over again. What the fuck is going through her head? And why is she feeling like she’s trapped?

ME:

Always. Trapped by expectations, trapped by lineage, trapped in my own head.

BEE:

I wonder why it all matters? In the end, we all die anyway, right?

An image of her lifeless body flashes in my mind. It doesn’t give me the hard-on it used to. The thought of her no longer living makes me feel something strange, something I’ve never felt before…

ME:

You matter.

I leave off the “to me” part of the sentence. I just can’t bring myself to add it.

BEE:

Why?

Why does she matter? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot. Why her? What is it about her that I can’t seem to walk away from? I don’t have the answers to any of those questions.

ME:

Because…

ME:

When you walk into a room, it lights up. When you smile, the world is a better place. You matter because you are you. There doesn’t need to be a reason. You matter because I fucking say you do.

BEE:

Mmm, that would mean something if I knew who you were. You’re some random, obsessed stranger. I’m not even sure why I’m talking to you.

ME:

Because you know no matter where or when, I’ll always listen. Shouldn’t you be taking study notes or something?

That has her head looking up and searching the room. Her eyes brush straight past me. I guess I’ve mastered the art of being seen and not seen at the same time.

For the rest of the lecture, Lucy continues to look over her shoulder, trying her best to pay attention to the professor and ease her paranoia—though I guess it’s not paranoia if she’s right. I slip out the back, just before the class comes to an end, and walk outside. Waiting for her to do the same. She usually heads to the café. Something about her messages seemed off to me though. I don’t like where her thoughts were going.

Why is she questioning her worth?

I know he’s there before he makes himself known. Axel. My idiot cousin who is very high on my shit list right now. “You’re either brave or really fucking dumb,” I grunt at him, while my eyes remained glued to the door.

“Need me to play wingman? Introduce you to her? Most people would just go and say hi, ask her out on a date or some shit,” he counters.

“If I see you so much as breathe in her direction, I will break one of your limbs,” I hiss out between clenched teeth.

“Woah, shit. They all said you were touchy, but fuck… I’m your cousin, Dom. I’m the last person you need to worry about stepping in on your territory. I would never do that to you.”

If I trusted anyone, it would be my family. They’ve never given me a reason not to.

“You got something you want to say?” I ask him. “Seeing as last I checked, you don’t go here.”

“Can’t I just come and hang out with my favourite cousin?”

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.” He holds up his hands in a placating gesture while I watch Lucy walk out. I follow behind her. As suspected, she’s heading for the café. “You know, you could just go and sit with her. Tell her you’re Dominic McKinley and she’d probably fawn all over you like every other chick in a fifty-mile radius,” Axe says. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“She’s not like that,” I tell him.

“They’re all like that.” He rolls his eyes.

“She has a trust fund bigger than yours. She doesn’t need my money.”

“How do you know how big her trust fund is?” He raises a questioning brow.

“I hacked into her bank accounts.”

“You do know that’s illegal, right?”

“So is feeding your cousin to the family pigs. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it.” I smirk.

“Funny.” He shudders at the thought. The kid’s always been creeped out by my uncle’s pigs.

“Since you’re here, make yourself useful and get me a coffee,” I say before pushing through the door.

“You do know that you’re the Richie Rich one here, not me?” he mumbles, even as he keeps walking.

“You’re hardly living on the poverty line, Axe,” I call out after him. The Williamsons always give us McKinleys shit for being a few notches higher than them on that wealth ladder.

“Fine, but you owe me one.”

“I’ll wait out here.” I point to a table located just outside the café and make my way over to it. From this vantage point, I can see through the windows. I can see her.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on G𝘰𝘰gle to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Tip: You can use left, right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.Tap the middle of the screen to reveal Reading Options.

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.

Report
Do you like this site? Donate here:
Your donations will go towards maintaining / hosting the site!