Page 45 of Can't Stop Watching

This infatuation, this... obsession. It's consuming me, turning me into something I never thought I'd become.

But isn't that always how it goes? We turned into the very thing we set out to destroy. The abyss gazes back, and all that philosophical bullshit.

I stand up, straightening my jacket. Time to get the fuck out of Dodge before my luck runs out completely.

As I take a few steps, my eyes catch on Lila's desk. The Veritas application stares back at me, mocking in its innocence. Something about it nags at the back of my mind, a loose thread I can't quite grasp. I shake it off.

My hands finally stop shaking, and I get to work. I didn't come here for a joyride through Lila's internship search. I pull the surveillance equipment from my pockets—tiny microphones barely larger than thumbtacks, wireless cameras disguised as innocent objects.

The first bug goes under her coffee table. Simple, clean placement that'll capture most conversations in the living room. I position the camera inside a cheap wall clock—the perfect line of sight.

"Sorry, Lila," I mutter, testing the adhesive on the second mic. "But I need you so fucking much."

I place another mic under her desk, angled toward her most-used chair. The bathroom gets nothing—even I have standards. But the bedroom...

I hesitate at the threshold of her room, equipment in hand. I place the final camera on her bookshelf, disguised as a phone charger brick. It has perfect sightlines to her bed.

Through my phone, I check each feed. Crystal clear audio, decent video. I stand in the center of her apartment, surrounded by hidden eyes and ears that will feed directly to my phone. There's a perverted intimacy to it—I'll be with her even when I'm not. I'll know her secrets, her fears, her true self.

Isn't that what everyone wants? To truly know someone? Connection?

I take one last look around, making sure everything is in place and nothing looks disturbed. Then I head for the door, stepping carefully, leaving no trace.

In the hallway, I lock her door behind me. Down the stairs, out the front entrance, into anonymity. Nobody gives me asecond glance—just another face in the crowd, another shadow lurking at the edges of someone else's life.

Back in my car, I check my watch. The whole operation took less than fifteen minutes. Efficient despite the completely fucking deranged, near-death closet experience.

I start the engine, the familiar rumble grounding me as I pull away from the curb. On my way, I message Milo and ask if she's tapped into her phone yet. When he gives me an affirmative, I breath a sigh of relief.

Now I'll know her exact location at all hours, and she will be much safer because of it.

I send another message to Milo mentally kicking myself for letting my obsession with Lila derail Langford's case. Client work pays the bills, not stalking a woman who I should leave the hell alone.

Dane: Missed the window to bug Langford's apartment. Need another entry point. What've you got?

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel while waiting for Milo's response. The kid's probably knee-deep in energy drinks to be up this early on a Saturday. My phone buzzes.

Milo: Dude, wtf? That was prime entry time. What happened to Mr. Always-Professional?

I grimace. Fair question. Well, green eyes and auburn hair happened. A woman with freckles who makes my chest tight when she smiles. A fucking distraction I can't afford.

Dane: Life happened. Just find me another window.

Three dots appear, disappear, then reappear.

Milo: You were with that bartender, weren't you?

Christ. Even Milo can see I'm compromised. That's when you know you're fucked—when the guy who forgets to eat because his ADHD brain is bouncing between five different screens notices your personal life.

Dane: Just find me another entry point, Milo. Preferably before Langford lures that college girl to his love nest.

I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and rest my head against the wheel. The universe is a cosmic joke sometimes. Here I am, hunting an asshole while becoming one myself. The symmetry would be beautiful if it wasn't so fucking wrong.

My phone buzzes again.

Milo: Maintenance scheduled for building's HVAC next Tuesday, 2-5 PM. Security system will be on bypass. Don't fuck it up this time, Romeo.

I snort.