Page 50 of Stalk

We agree that it’s probably best for Marco to drop me off a few houses down from Ren’s. After that, I’ll make my way into Ren’s backyard area and see if I can track them from the outside.That’s as far as our plan goes. Once I’m there, I’m going to have to rely on my instincts, be fast on my feet, and try my damndest to watch over Ren and keep them alive without them knowing I’m there.

Before I get out of the SUV, I tell Marco, “Keep your eyes on my location every few minutes, okay? And?—”

“You will text me if I am needed,” Marco says simply, his eyes softening. “Take care of them, yeah? I’ll be waiting.”

I reach over against the center console and give Marco the best hug I can muster in a car. Then, I hop out. Marco told me the house number. On the sidewalk, I’m next to 906, and Ren’s place is 912. Easy enough.

Marco drives past me as I put on my sunglasses and straighten out my black baseball cap. The odds of Ren being outside and me running into them are slim. The odds of Ren being able to notice it’s me underneath my half-assed disguise is great. I hold my breath and hope that I get lucky.

It’s a pretty quiet neighborhood to be so close to the heart of the city. The only people I spot from the short walk to Ren’s house are one couple walking their dog and an older woman taking out her trash.Good.The less people, the better. As usual.

When I’m close to the house, I hold my breath. I wish Ren had a car or something. It would be much easier to know if they are home or not. I do not dare walk in front of the house. There are windows on the side of the building, but I can’t see through them thanks to some closed curtains, which is very on brand for Ren. I scale the side of the house and easily find my way into the backyard (if you can even call it that with how small it is).

Aside from a small little patio with a little table and two chairs, there isn’t much out here, which is bad news for me, because there’s practically nothing to hide behind. I suppose I’ll just have to figure it out as I go along.

A set of French doors rests to the right of the little table. I linger at the corner of the side and back of the house, but know I’ll need to find a way to peek in through those doors at some point. I decide to slowly make my way around the perimeter of the “yard” by crouching down and doing some sort of weird crab walk.Thiswas definitely not part of my formal training, and my thighs begin to burn instantly.

Unfortunately, all I see through the French doors are shadows underneath from the glare of the sun gradually getting lower in the sky. However, as soon as I make it to the other side of the perimeter, I spot a little rectangular window on this side of the building, not tall like the ones on the other side. There are two possibilities there—a window above a kitchen sink or a bathroom window.

I stand up as soon as I round the corner, grunting as quietly as possible from the ache left in my thighs, and then I inch toward the small window. It’s a bit higher up than I’d anticipated, with the bottom coming down to my forehead. I’ll need something to step on if I want to look inside.

“Fanculo!”I whisper-scream. I gently knock my head against the brick in some kind of dramatic frustration before I search for a makeshift step stool.

After briefly glancing around, I come to the conclusion that I have two options. I can grab the fucking trash can from the other side of Ren’s house,orI can do the crab walk one more time and steal one of the chairs from the back of the house. My thighs will be sore tomorrow, that’s for sure—but if that’s the small price I have to pay for saving Ren’s life, so be it.

A few minutes later, afterdraggingthe damn chair around to the side of the house like a lunatic, I catch my breath and rest the chair against the house, just off to the side of the window so I can peek in.

Once my breaths even out, I roll my shoulders back and then hop onto the chair. It wobbles a bit, but holds me up, thankfully. I hold my breath and brace myself by placing my hands on the brick and putting my body flush against the wall. Little by little, I move my head until I can see inside.

Inside, I see a dark kitchen with only the stove light on. A hallway connects to the kitchen from an arched entryway. There are a couple of other doors, but I can’t tell where they lead.

I check the time. I’ve killed about twenty minutes, yet it feels like hours.

Come on, Ren. Let me know you’re home.

That’s all I need right now. Once I know they’re home, I can find a different spot to scope out the front of the house until they leave for their assignment. Until then, all I can do is wait. And I do. For almost an entire goddamnhour.

Finally, after taking a small break to stretch out my back before peering back in through the window, I spot Ren. The sight of them almost makes me jump, since I’ve been staring at an empty kitchen for so long. My feet grow a bit unsteady, so I slow down and calm down by taking measured breaths.

At first, Ren seems fine. Normal, even. They pull out a glass from a cabinet and fill it up from the refrigerator. I make sure to stand as still as possible as I watch. Ren takes a sip from their cup, sets it on the kitchen island, then hunches over. Their forehead rests on top of the island, and in seconds, their shoulders begin to shake.

They’re losing it. They’re not okay. I want to crash in through the tiny window or back patio, but I can’t. They stay like that for a while. At one point, they bang a fist on the counter and I can faintly hear them cry out, but I can’t make out what they say. I stay there with Ren, unseen, but present in spirit, until they stand up, wipe at their eyes with pale knuckles, and go back down the hall.

There’s no need for me to stay in my uncomfortable position anymore, but I don’t know where I should wait until Ren leaves. Either way, I’m glad to be back on the ground. I creep closer to the front of the house, not bothering to put the patio chair back. My thighs still burn and I have more important things to do.

There’s a hedge separating Ren’s house from their neighbor, and I notice that in one part closer to the street, there’s a gap where the branches have been broken off and there are less leaves. In no way will it be a comfortable squeeze, but I think I may be able to wedge myself in and sit without Ren or their neighbors noticing me. Comfort went out the window a while ago, anyway. Oh well. Like most things, sometimes you have to stick it out and live with being uncomfortable.

After a lot of trial and error, breaking off some branches, and many curse words whispered under my breath, I sit with my knees up, literally wedged in a hedge. I wrap my arms around my knees and glare at a squirrel on a branch about a meter away from me.

Time goes by slowly. By the time the sun grows dimmer in the sky, my entire body is stiff and sore. It’s nearing seven thirty now.

Come on, Ren. Let’s get this over with.

Like an answered prayer, Ren comes outside. They’re dressed… normally. In jeans and a simple V-neck. As though they’re about to meet up with a friend for dinner or drinks. When I stumbled upon them that first night we were assigned the same target, they were dressed in all black, much like how I’m dressed now. What exactly is their plan, I wonder? Giorgia only got me the case file on the assignment, but there were no instructions onhowCatherine wants Ren to execute.

I wait until they’ve locked up and start to walk in the opposite direction of where I sit. Once they’re far enough away, I grunt and stumble my way out of hiding and onto the grass. Mymuscles strain as I stand, but I have to move in order to keep tabs on Ren. I straighten out my hat and pick up my pace.

We walk for about ten minutes before Ren veers off into a train station.

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