Page 14 of Was I Ever Here

I’m sure it isn’t a coincidence. Witnessing a kidnapping would rattle anybody with a conscience. Lucky for me, I lost mine a long time ago.

She turns the corner towards Turner Avenue, heading down towards Old Town. I push myself off the brick wall I was leaning on and trail behind her.

I pull my black hoodie over my head and shove my hands into the pockets, careful to stay well behind her. But does it matter? Would she even remember me even if she did catch a glimpse of me?

Does she dream of me as I do her?

Stupid. That’s just stupid.

I watch her pull her tangled earphones out of her bag, not even bothering to unravel them before plugging them into her phone and popping them into her ears.

Jesus, really? Who does that?

She continues down the street, her face facing the rays of the afternoon sun while tilting her cheeks towards the sky, as if chasing the warmth. It would have looked like a serene moment if she didn’t seem so haunted. Tight-lipped, eyebrows knitted, and eyes closed as she continues to walk towards the beach.

She’s gonna walk into a fucking pole if she doesn’t open up her eyes soon. I have to force myself not to yelp at her from afar. She eventually snaps them open, unbothered, as if she knows exactly where her feet are guiding her.

I also happen to know where she’s headed.

This isn’t my first time following her. Won’t be my last. Some might call it stalking—I call it getting acquainted. I follow her because I have no fucking clue what my next move is. I crave to be close to her, but I’m also painfully aware that the current haunted look on her face is partially my fault.

I’m surprised Connor even let her live. Deep down, I know he saw something in my eyes that night, even if he didn’t let on or even mention it. I might have not said the words out loud but he knows me all too well for it to matter. Sunny was to be spared, no questions asked. Which is why he threatened her life instead.

The threat was equally effective. Hell, Connor looks like he has the grim reaper on speed dial. Only an idiot would go against one of his threats.

Later, he had only mentioned one thing about it—keep tabs on the girl.

And I was more than happy to oblige.

According to the police reports that Bastian hacked into, she kept her word and kept her mouth shut.

Finally, Sunny reaches the waterfront. She’s been doing this almost daily. Eventually, she finds a spot to her liking surrounded by other beachgoers and drops her bag on the sand.

She pulls her black tank top over her hair, dropping it next to her things and wiggles out of her jean shorts, revealing a yellow bikini underneath. Her auburn hair gleams almost red in the sunlight, her toes sinking into the sand as she struts into the water like she owns the place.

Fuck me.

I’m burning to touch her. My feet fight against the urge to walk straight into the ocean and just run my fingers against her cheek. To ask—no plead—her to remember me as I do her. To run my tongue across her parted lips and taste her for the first time. Or like the countless times before this.

My phone rings and I snap back to reality. I groan when I see Connor calling.

“Yeah?” I keep my eyes on Sunny as I half listen to his answer.

“I need you to take care of something for me,” he barks, and I know he won’t tell me any more details over the phone. Knowing Connor he probably needs me to take care ofsomeoneso I grunt my response and tell him I’m on my way. Sparing Sunny one last look, I turn away and walk back up the hill.

This better be fucking good.

Chapter 10

Sunny

Ireachfortheback door and swing it open, the distinct scent of the pub hitting my senses like a brick wall. I stand frozen in place while still holding onto the door handle. I waver in between wanting to run away as far as possible and walking inside to finally face the terrible memories still clinging to me.

It’s my first shift back since Gary’s kidnapping—and subsequent murder. I couldn’t avoid it forever. Alas, I have bills to pay. Only the rich can mourn the dead.

Eventually, I yank myself out of the stupor I’ve inadvertently fallen into and walk inside, readying myself for my shift. I made sure to schedule my first night back with Lenix. I’m desperate for moral support, but try to pretend I’m not dead inside while I pour drinks all night for faceless customers.

As usual, Lenix works the floor while I tend the bar. Eventually, I fall into a workflow, attempting to concentrate on the repeated movements of making drinks and stashing bills into the till. I try to keep my head down as much as possible while the bar fills up with the rowdy evening crowd.

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