Page 43 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
“Did you hear me, Anika? Hide, now.”
Without another word, Anika ran.
16
Shadowed Interruptions
Mikko
Waiting in his Audi, engine off and enveloped in shadow outside of Anika’s house, the minutes dragged on. He was restless, the blood roaring in his ears while he passed the time. At least these excursions helped him avoid work—specifically the mystery and roiling unrest whispering through the business at Ivan’s death. Men had already questioned Mikko’s plans of action, stating he was too calm in the face of trouble, but he brushed off the words.
“Death is our only constant,”Alek would say, and seasoned men like them should realize this by now. Yet, they still blabbed and bred distrust among the darkened streets. Besides, Mikkowasinvestigating; he had questions he felt could only be answered by a certain woman.
Now sitting outside her house, he realized what a nasty habit this was becoming, but it was a necessary evil if he wanted to stay one step ahead of her.
The sun had set and Mikko knew the dinner plans Anika had scheduled with a business partner were well underway. He’d have all evening to do as he pleased and immerse himself into the thoughts swirling around in his head every time he pictured Anika. It’d only been a little over a week and a half since they’d had their fateful meeting atBubblegum, but so much had happened.
And the only common denominator was Anika.
Despite his own conflicting emotions, he swore to put his theories to rest by shedding light on whatever she was hiding. He’d modified his own work schedule to accommodate her routines. Wherever she went, he wasn’t far behind. A day didn’t go by where he didn’t see her, even if it was from afar.
Although tonight was different. Instead of trailing behind her, sitting at a table across the restaurant she was currently in, he stayed behind. Following her around had proved to be an entertaining distraction, but time was a valuable thing. Ivan’s death meant Mikko needed to turn up the heat. And he was left with no other choice: go straight to the source byselectivelybreaking and entering. A man of his was dead and he needed to chase down every lead. Even if the excitement flooding his veins was a new emotion.
No, not new. Buried.
Being in her personal space felt like sin, something dirty a corporate man like him should be above, yet this was where he flourished.
With a deep breath—the aroma of leather prominent inside his car—he readjusted his balaclava and made sure his hood was firmly in place. The only sliver of skin visible was around his eyes. He quickly donned the pair of leather gloves sitting on the passenger seat. Even if someone did see him, he was nothing but a darkened smudge, unremarkable and untraceable.
As Mikko was about to slip from his car, bright headlights approaching from behind made him pause. With bated breath, he waited, buthe expelled a sigh when the car continued on, its pace leisurely. The unknown driver passed without a second thought to whoever could be lurking in the dark.Someone like him.
It seemed her quiet neighborhood would never know of the monster slinking in its depths tonight.
Without a second thought or moment to change his mind, he stepped into the cool evening air. The tree’s leaves rustled above, whispering as the autumn wind breezed through them, their color shifting from lush verdant to soft orange. He smiled to himself as the season’s shorter days offered a refuge for his stalking.
Sleuthing,his brain corrected annoyingly.
Closing his car door softly, his eyes swept the surrounding landscape once more, adequately acquainted with it. It’d become a familiar sight, his visits to this area frequent.
Silently, he made his way to the wrought iron fence separating her lawn from the sidewalk and her neighbors. The flared finials of the pickets were weather-worn, but well maintained from what he could see. Most of the flora was well-kept, albeit overwhelming since Anika seemed to believe having any open space was a sin.
The flowerbeds lining the fence were overflowing with native plants. A couple large trees sprawled overhead, blocking out the moonlight.
An avid gardener, good to know,he mentally noted.I wonder if that’s where she got the inspiration for her arm tattoos?
Pretending as though he belonged, Mikko walked right up to the gate in hopes of avoiding any suspicious, nosy neighbors. Although, eye witness accounts were hardly admissible. There had beenmanytimes fate had been in his favor in a court of law throughout his business years—
A loudscreechrent the night air, chilling his blood.
The damn gate wasn’t as well-maintained as he’d assumed.
“Fuck,” he muttered, feet rooted to the spot. Of all the times he’d been here, why hadn’t he noticed this?
Because you’ve been preoccupied,his mind countered, the voice sounding suspiciously like Alek.
No time to ruminate on it now as his tall frame hovered at the gate, in a potentially conspicuous position. Closing the gate once more—its hinges refusing to be silenced—Mikko stepped back, confident he could scale the fence and avoid it altogether.
Four soft breaths and a couple furious heartbeats filled the silence.
