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A woman in a long puffy coat carrying a shopping bag stares at us. And then, in a wide circle, she guides her child around us and away.
I lower my voice to a heated whisper. “Just go away.”
“So, some other creep can attack you?” he scoffs.
I screw up my mouth. “Are you on that list?”
His gaze flares, his mouth tightens, but he doesn’t speak. The hateful look he’s giving me digs into my heart, but it doesn’t soften my resolve. Something happened that’s keeping us apart, and he will tell me. If not, he can leave me the fuck alone.
But for now, I give up. “Just leave me alone.”
I start walking alone, heading toward campus. It’s safer than trying to walk back to my apartment at dusk. I don’t need to look to know that he’s not near me. I can feel it in the cold air around me. It feels desolate as my footsteps click along the pavement. I hug myself tight, hoping that he might follow, but maybe this is for the best. I can handle being alone.
A horn blows, and I ignore it until an SUV pulls up alongside me. “Hey, sexy girl, climb inside.” Lucas smiles from his open window, and I hesitate. I glance down the street, and Elijah is in the shadows of a building, watching.
I have a choice to make right here, right now: Lucas, who is perfect, or Elijah, who I desire. I run around the SUV to the passenger side, reach for the door handle, and get in. I didn’t get into the Rover to make Elijah jealous. I didn’t do it to play a game. I did it to prove to myself that I had to move on. I may not love Lucas, but my future is secure with him. I may not love him, but I’ll try.
Lucas’ brow wrinkles with concern while he watches me tug savagely at my seatbelt. “Are you okay? You looked a little spooked.”
I nod. “I’m good. Thank you for picking me up.”
He nods and looks into the rearview. I don’t dare look behind me to see what he’s looking at. Is Elijah still there staring at the SUV? Lucas pulls his SUV into traffic and whips around in a wild U-turn, heading toward campus. I grab my seatbelt as horns blare all around us, and Lucas speeds off down the street.
“What is wrong with you?” I shout at him.
“I thought you were headed toward campus.” He shakes his head. “So, I made a U-turn.”
“That’s fucking dangerous, Lucas. One day you’re going to get into an accident.”
“Is that why you don’t want me to drive you around?” His expression tells me that he actually thinks that is the reason.
“Seriously, it’s back on me?” I glare at him. “Just drop me off.”
“As soon as we get to campus,” he says, his hands tightening on the wheel.
This day needs to be over. I don’t say another word to him as we drive. He drops me off, and I walk over to the gate to wait for the shuttle home. Just to cover my bases, I send a text to Lucas telling him not to pick me up as the shuttle pulls away from the gate.
***
Our apartment is dark, and I check the time. Amanda has found a steady hook-up. A guy from her World Literature class. I told her what I thought of him, but then I had to shut my mouth. I could’ve been talking to myself.
I pull the camera out of my pocket and toss my coat down in the kitchen. I sit at the table, and my hand shakes as I look at the images on the little screen. The picture looks amazing, and a rush of adrenaline makes me cheer out loud. I grab my laptop and fiddle with the USB cord, linking the two devices. The image of Winston appears on the screen. Fuck, it’s good. Was it worth the risk? I hate to say it, but yes.
It’s not just a photo of a homeless man. The portrait of Winston with his grizzled beard and halo has layers of spirit and depth. It displays his humanity in his broad smile and his pain in each wrinkle on his face. He did scare the crap out of me, but somehow, I have to show him this picture. The man has had a hard life, but it hasn’t dulled his smile.
“That’s a man who could tell you some interesting stories.”
I leap out of the chair, and Elijah stands in the archway leading into the kitchen. My heart pounds as if it always resides in my throat, and I don’t know why I’m not screaming. “How did you get in here?”
“You should keep all your windows locked,” he states calmly, “especially the ones on the fire escape.”
My expression twists with fury, and my tone’s mocking. “We’re on the fourth floor. What are you, a freaking monkey?”
He sits down at the table. “Makes no difference to me.”
Slowly, I close the laptop on the table. I’m unsure where this is leading, but a sensible and smart part of me doesn’t feel safe with him here.
“I want you to leave.”
