Page 3 of Fixation
Anyone.
Now I have to have her.
I have to, and can’t. I’m not supposed to.
My pulse kicks up. Frustration doubles in size.
Whatever she stirs in me, I have to lock it down before it shows on my face.
Especially if someone’s watching. They could be there, either one of my two bosses.
Once this woman is tied to me, both our lives would be ruined. They’d use her to blackmail me, just like they did with my mom.
A blank expression slides into place, and I return my attention to the mover. As far as the outside world is concerned, I don’t care about her or anyone else. That’s the right thing to do. The only way to save her life.
Whatever it is I want with her, I’ll figure it out in three months, when I’m a free man. When they move on and forget about me.
The mover changes his grip on the dresser, leaning its weight on his other side.
Right. “The attic.”
“The attic?” His brow furrows.
Sure, there’s plenty of space to showcase this unique piece of furniture. Except I don’t need that kind of filth staring me in the face every day.
“Yes, the attic.”
“Have it your way.” A small shrug from the mover, and he climbs the stairs and heads inside.
The two others follow, balancing my new king-size bed between them.
They disappear, leaving me alone with my neighbor.
The breeze whips at my short hair.
Night air presses at my back, nudging me a step closer to the woman.
Would she scream if she saw me out here, staring at her?
I’m not physically intimidating. A lean man in a plain pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
I am looking into her home, though.
So…yeah, she probably would scream.
I’d probably like it.
Another step in her direction. Another one.
Winter was rough this year, and spring is slow to catch up. It’s getting there, though. The biting cold is gone. It hardly rains anymore. Flowers are changing, growing. Blooming. The trees are green and lush around us.
They used to catch my eye, once upon a time.
Before I saw her.
What a beautiful creature, bathed in a warm light, her hair now tumbles down the front of her body.
Commotion reaches my ears from somewhere inside my house. Furniture is being placed and then scraped over the hardwood floors. Orders are passed around between the movers.
