him being paranoid enough to be looking out of the windows to make sure he’s not been followed. I know I would if I had something to hide. Also, I kind of like the smell of the tree and the feel of its thick waxy leaves on my skin. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine cool hands touching me.
Holding me. It’s like a dream.
I hope no one else can see.
By the time I step around the tree and inch along the wall to take a look at the warehouse building a little more closely, I think the adrenaline that got me here is starting to wear off—my hands are shaking, my legs feel like jelly, and I’m as cold as fuck.
Moving quietly, I creep in the shadows until I am crouched beneath the metal staircase, looking up. I can see the stars scattered through the metal slats, but that’s not what I’m looking for.
No lights are on in the warehouse, unless all the windows are blacked out so anyone outside can’t tell. That’s unlikely, I guess.
I wait, but the place remains dark. From the separate letter boxes next to the door, it looks to be divided up into quite a few flats.
I get a little jolt of excitement when I notice there is an electronic keypad entry instead of a lock. Can I figure out the code to get in? Maybe. But if I did, what would I do? Break in? I have no idea which flat he has gone into or even if it’s his. What if he caught me? Would it be worth it?
Too many questions again.
I rub my hands up and down my arms to warm my fingers up. It’s enough for tonight that I’ve found this place. Whether or not it’s where Dollman lives, he’s here, and it’s still a tether. Now I need to write everything down in my pad—every detail, before I forget.
When I get back to the swimming pool, I can curl up in my nest and decide what to do.
I try and tell myself I’ve done well tonight. This is good. This is something. But the satisfaction lasts for less than ten seconds. Dashiel’s face is there when I close my eyes. I won’t let myself forget.
After I’ve filled a page and a half with notes, I crawl out from beneath the stairwell and start walking back the way I came. I hunch over, protecting myself against the onslaught of wind that whips around me as I reach the park, and push my hands deep in my pockets to stop my fingers freezing.
It’s strange, but even though I’m only walking, some small part of me is yelling and running through the dark.
Girls falling out of cars
A LITTLE while later, I’m in the shadows, out of sight, and on the other side of the road to where I saw Dieter earlier, when a car pulls up about twenty meters ahead of me. The door swings open and someone slumps out of it, landing in a heap in the road. The door slams shut and the car’s wheels spin as it speeds off, driving right past me. It’s going too fast for me to read the number plate. The windows are blacked out, the driver invisible.
My heart is hammering—not in a good way. Whoever landed in a heap is still in a heap, though they’re sitting up, they’re moving. Someone rushes out of the darkness across from me and kneels down in the road. Startled, I realize it’s Donna who’s rushed to help. She has her high heels in her hand, and she puts her arms around the girl on the ground. I’m pretty sure it’s a girl, but I know I’ve been wrong about that before. I quicken my pace.
As I step out of the shadows, I hold my hand up in a sort of hello wave so they don’t think I’m some weirdo creeping up on them. They don’t notice me—the girl in a heap is crying. Her shoes are in the road and her sparkly top is ripped. Donna is making shushing noises in her ear and trying to guide her backward onto the pavement. I can see Donna’s bra as she leans forward. The dress she’s wearing shimmers as though it’s made of rain-covered cobwebs.
“Donna?” I say, wondering if I should say anything at all. Perhaps it might be better if I went and stood back in the shadows for a bit. I’m not about to
Holding me. It’s like a dream.
I hope no one else can see.
By the time I step around the tree and inch along the wall to take a look at the warehouse building a little more closely, I think the adrenaline that got me here is starting to wear off—my hands are shaking, my legs feel like jelly, and I’m as cold as fuck.
Moving quietly, I creep in the shadows until I am crouched beneath the metal staircase, looking up. I can see the stars scattered through the metal slats, but that’s not what I’m looking for.
No lights are on in the warehouse, unless all the windows are blacked out so anyone outside can’t tell. That’s unlikely, I guess.
I wait, but the place remains dark. From the separate letter boxes next to the door, it looks to be divided up into quite a few flats.
I get a little jolt of excitement when I notice there is an electronic keypad entry instead of a lock. Can I figure out the code to get in? Maybe. But if I did, what would I do? Break in? I have no idea which flat he has gone into or even if it’s his. What if he caught me? Would it be worth it?
Too many questions again.
I rub my hands up and down my arms to warm my fingers up. It’s enough for tonight that I’ve found this place. Whether or not it’s where Dollman lives, he’s here, and it’s still a tether. Now I need to write everything down in my pad—every detail, before I forget.
When I get back to the swimming pool, I can curl up in my nest and decide what to do.
I try and tell myself I’ve done well tonight. This is good. This is something. But the satisfaction lasts for less than ten seconds. Dashiel’s face is there when I close my eyes. I won’t let myself forget.
After I’ve filled a page and a half with notes, I crawl out from beneath the stairwell and start walking back the way I came. I hunch over, protecting myself against the onslaught of wind that whips around me as I reach the park, and push my hands deep in my pockets to stop my fingers freezing.
It’s strange, but even though I’m only walking, some small part of me is yelling and running through the dark.
Girls falling out of cars
A LITTLE while later, I’m in the shadows, out of sight, and on the other side of the road to where I saw Dieter earlier, when a car pulls up about twenty meters ahead of me. The door swings open and someone slumps out of it, landing in a heap in the road. The door slams shut and the car’s wheels spin as it speeds off, driving right past me. It’s going too fast for me to read the number plate. The windows are blacked out, the driver invisible.
My heart is hammering—not in a good way. Whoever landed in a heap is still in a heap, though they’re sitting up, they’re moving. Someone rushes out of the darkness across from me and kneels down in the road. Startled, I realize it’s Donna who’s rushed to help. She has her high heels in her hand, and she puts her arms around the girl on the ground. I’m pretty sure it’s a girl, but I know I’ve been wrong about that before. I quicken my pace.
As I step out of the shadows, I hold my hand up in a sort of hello wave so they don’t think I’m some weirdo creeping up on them. They don’t notice me—the girl in a heap is crying. Her shoes are in the road and her sparkly top is ripped. Donna is making shushing noises in her ear and trying to guide her backward onto the pavement. I can see Donna’s bra as she leans forward. The dress she’s wearing shimmers as though it’s made of rain-covered cobwebs.
“Donna?” I say, wondering if I should say anything at all. Perhaps it might be better if I went and stood back in the shadows for a bit. I’m not about to
Similar Books
