“You need to pack your things. You can’t stay here.”
“Like hell I can’t stay here.” I push the suitcase closed.
“Maxine.”
“You can’t barge in here in the middle of the night, wake me up like some stalker, and not tell me what’s going on.”
A softened light appears in his hand, it’s his phone. After a few swipes, he turns the screen toward me.
I lean closer to him, blinking a few times to be sure my vision is clear. A man stands in a window, looking across the street. Nothing odd about that.
“It’s just a guy in a window,” I say.
“No. That is a man standing in a window directly across the street from this window, looking into your window.” He shoves it closer to my face. “Do you see how he’s dressed? All in black, leather gloves?” He swipes the screen to a new photo. “With binoculars and a rifle strapped to his chest.”
He zooms in for me, to show the man more clearly.
I swallow. My throat coats with dust, and a lump the size of a pool ball seizes halfway down. “How’d you get those photos?”
“Stephan took them. He’s downstairs.” A notification pops up on the screen while I’m still staring at the photograph.
A text telling him the building is clear and the one across the street is, too.
“What does that mean?”
He reaches over to the nightstand and flicks on the small lamp. The light hits his face, and the fierceness strikes me. There’s no casualness to his features; he’s a man on a mission.
“It means someone who can get a clear view into that window was watching you.” He reopens the bag. “Now, pack your things.”
“Wait.” I slide past him to the window and shove open the slats. “So, someone from over there?”
The lump swells to the size of a grapefruit.
“So, someone over there could see into my room. Where you…oh god, where you…oh no.” I let go of the blinds and push myself against the wall. “Did they see what you did?”
A small tug of his lips tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. And I was really hoping we wouldn’t have to re-visit the activities that took place in this room at least for half a lifetime.
It was the last thing I thought of as I drifted off to sleep. His hands on me, his mouth. His tongue. What if someone had seen, had been watching?
“I assume if they were there at the time, then yes, they saw.” He grabs a handful of hangers from the closet and brings the clothes to the open suitcase, completely unfazed by the fact someone could have watched what we’d done.
“You assume they saw, but you don’t care?”
“When we catch them, I’ll find out. Right before I rip their eyes out for watching you to begin with,” he points out as he grabs the last three hangers from my closet and tosses the shirts into the bag in a mess.
“Stop.” I grab his wrist. “You’re making a mess of my clothes.”
“Then stop arguing with me and pack. I’ll get you another bag.” He storms from the bedroom, merely pointing at Marion when she follows him and telling her to stay put.
And the damn cat does.
“You know, you make me look bad when you follow his orders so fast,” I tell her.
Of course she doesn’t seem to care, she’s too busy climbing back onto the bed and curling up in a furry ball.
Five minutes later, Lev walks back into my room carrying two duffel bags and tosses them on the bed.
“I’ll pack that drawer!” I stop him when he reaches for the top drawer of the small dresser.