Page 93 of Crew Princess
I nodded. “Okay.”
And I stayed.
I’d put her back in the morning.
He wound himself around me, his head against my neck, his hand on my breast, and one of his legs between mine. We went to sleep.
I could go to jail for what I was doing.
I didn’t care. Waking in Cross’ arms, I’d started the process of shoving her back down. I’d numbed myself, only feeling a third of what I could handle, but I’d stopped halfway. I didn’t know why. Normally, I couldn’t wait to turn off my emotions, but this morning, after feeling that with Cross, knowing how special it was, there was an ache I hadn’t felt in a long while. Months maybe.
It was nearing seven in the morning now. The timing was stupidly close, but I couldn’t stop myself.
Crawling over the fence, I didn’t unhook the latch because I saw they’d finally smarted up and bought a full fence that went all the way around their lawn. Who knew what other changes they’d made. They’d gotten a dog since my last visit, but the toys were the same.
I’d watched them before. It seemed like another life ago, so much had happened. So many changes, but I had to come. I had to see if I saw her.
Sneaking over the fence, not wanting to risk them having an alarm or squeaky hinges, I dropped over, and then I was officially trespassing. Didn’t matter that this had been my home growing up, or that this was where my family had been pulled out from beneath me. At one point, the two-story home had been mine, and I knew it was irrational, senseless, but I still wondered if I could catch a glimpse of my mom walking the hallways.
Creepy, I know.
I was so far past caring.
A Barbie doll looked at me from the grass. A small tricycle. A plethora of trucks and trains. A dinosaur. Some superhero figurines. Large plastic pieces for a puzzle.
I picked up every one of them, taking them to the front patio and laying them just in front of the wooden steps. I knew those creaked. The home hadn’t been renovated, and I could see they hadn’t touched up the stairs or patio area, so I saved that trip for last.
One trip after another, I picked up a toy, took it over in front of the deck, and laid it in the grass. A second trip. A third. More than six until I had all the toys collected. Then after that, I moved into stealth mode. They had two large toy chests next to the window. Both were open, the tops off, and why not? Their fence was high enough to deter people from invading their space, giving them a modicum of privacy even though it was the front lawn. Roussou wasn’t big on homeowner associations.
I knelt and quietly placed every single toy through the deck’s railing. There was enough space through the smaller posts. The tricycle I left for last. It was too large. Once everything was on there except that, I skipped the steps and climbed up over the middle banister. It was the sturdiest and the only one that wouldn’t creak under my weight. Then, stepping down onto the middle plank—another one I knew would remain silent—I began putting the toys into the chests. One by one. When all was done, I closed the tops and leaned back over, lifting the tricycle clear. Rotating on my heels, I rested the trike between the chests.
It was done.
The lawn was clean.
This was when I should go.
I should turn and sneak back out the way I came, because I wasn’t the type to break in and steal stuff. But I couldn’t bring myself to go.
Swallowing thickly, my instincts were quiet. I liked to listen to them, but I couldn’t move. Heaving a quiet breath, I edged farther over the deck, making sure to touch lightly on the planks, so only two protested under my weight and I was at the swinging bench. Easing down, sitting with my back against the far edge, I could see the house, and I only needed to turn my head to see the street.
I watched the house.
I wasn’t even lying to myself, saying I’d only stay for a little while.
I never once looked at the street. My head was on the house, my eyes trained for a glimmer of a shadow, a movement in the curtain. If I was asked what I was looking for, I wouldn’t be able to explain it. How can you look for a ghost? But that’s what I was doing, still doing.
I just wanted to see her. One more time.
Bark!
I tensed, freezing for a split second. I forgot about the dog.
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay, buddy. I’m coming.”
A light switched on.
I heard paws on the floor inside.
