Page 5 of Stained Protector

Scrubbing a hand over my face and pinching my cheeks, I scrutinize everything in the room. Things are the same since last night, with no cigarette odor.

Maybe my brain is playing tricks on me, and there isn’t an intruder fixated on my apartment. A rare moment of clarity swings into my mind, swatting at the wariness from further conspiring to hurt me.

I purchase the recommended camera without a shred of hesitation and pay for overnight shipping. The faster I can debunk my suspicion, the better I can freely live my life.

With the order confirmation email in my inbox, my fingers dance on the keys as I message him back spiritedly.

Thank you. Hope you don’t mind sweets.

His reply comes the next second.Is it bribery? I only accept half the sugar.

I laugh at the playful undertone.

Chapter Two

Levi

The red dot moves swiftly, leaping through streets and stopping at a place for about five minutes.

It’s very trusting of her to click on the virus-infected link I sent her, but it’s for her own good.

If I can’t be in her home, then I should have digital access to her life. Despite having people around her, she is vulnerable during the day. It’s even worse at night when she is sleeping.

Tapping on the dimming screen, I review the places surrounding the red dot. Anya will be at the studio in ten minutes for her first day of work for me.

I had no doubt she would accept the position. I see her coming home from work, dragging her feet and ready to fall asleep standing up. Her weekend job is an afternoon shift, making the rest of the day unproductive after she gets home.

Work has taken over her life, leaving no time for her to meet me. That’s awful. I want to know her better, and I know she feels the same.

I’m used to being stared at in the building, from buying a drink at the café by the lobby and taking out the trash to picking up mail at the mailbox.

I’m not the tallest or physically the biggest in the apartment building. Unit 605’s weightlifter practically lives at the facility gym, and 707’s road racer has his legs devoted to the stationary bike.

The feeling of eyes glued on me is disgusting, like fire ants creating havoc on my skin, and I can’t scratch it. Though, I’m a hypocrite. I always stare at Anya a little longer than appropriate whenever she’s in the building, yet she doesn’t feel the heat of my gaze.

Whether she’s good at brushing it off or isn’t aware, she can’t stop me from doing it again.

I wouldn’t live here if it wasn’t for her; I relocated here to keep an eye on her. She exudes an exquisiteness that no one else I've met possesses. Beautiful women and men are common once you know where to find them, usually in places with expensive price tags and deep pockets.

With the right price, they’ll compliment dandruff on theirSanta Claus.

Their partners are calledinamoratain lieu of arm candy.

Respectful and eloquent, they say, while leering repulsively at the person perched on their lap as they allude to a business contract. That was the first sign to reject the collaboration because a business owner with half a brain knew to never discuss sensitive information with a third-party present.

A twitch hammers on my temple as I sigh. Learning new things is great; some are beneficial, but some hit me with utter exasperation.

When dealing with business, I was prepared to meet eccentric people. Nevertheless, that part of my life is over, along with other periods of the man I was.

I want to do what makes me happy, and that’s to be close to Anya and draw her.

Two years of merely watching from a distance have given me a better read on her. Anya has good instincts that malfunction at times; she knows someone is watching her and has been in her home without leaving evidence, but the mistrust perishes with purposeful kindness.

She thought it was me. Should I take that as a win? I was on her mind a lot, enough to form a baseless conclusion that was debunked just as groundlessly. Now we’ve established natural contact, and we’re on a friendship and employer level.

Spiderweb is my rule. Each string has its purpose, one breaking won’t tear down the whole plan, and there is space for multiple prey to get ensnared.

I’m impatient with her. I want to fold her up into my suitcase and roll her out to our new home—to ensure whatever is haunting her doesn’t find out, of course. I don’t take her safety as a joke. She would be happy, living a life of freedom. I have a handful of homes she can choose from, or we could buy one she likes even better.

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