Page 32 of Stalk (Assassin’s Kiss Duet #1)

Mattia

I t’s nearing four in the afternoon by the time Marco knocks on my door.

We’re in the rental car and ready to leave in less than ten minutes after that.

Because the sun is still a few hours from going down, I know that more than likely, Ren is still at their house.

Hopefully they aren’t out. Unfortunately for Marco and I, Ren knows what our SUV looks like, and I don’t want to risk them realizing I’m skulking around.

I want to offer to help Ren, but if there’s anything I’ve figured out about them in the short time since we met, it’s that Ren is unbelievably stubborn. That, and they don’t want my help. They feel like I’ve already helped too much. Which isn’t fucking true, but no matter.

Marco and I come up with a very last minute game plan on the short ride from our house to Ren’s.

Marco tells me what Ren’s front yard and backyard situation is.

Marco has never been inside of Ren’s house; he’s only picked Ren up from there once or twice, but he knows that the layout is similar to the house we’re renting.

Barely a front yard with a small backyard or patio.

We agree that it’s probably best for Marco to drop me off a few houses down from Ren’s.

After that, I’ll make my way into Ren’s backyard area and see if I can track them from the outside.

That’s as far as our plan goes. Once I’m there, I’m going to have to rely on my instincts, be fast on my feet, and try my damndest to watch over Ren and keep them alive without them knowing I’m there.

Before I get out of the SUV, I tell Marco, “Keep your eyes on my location every few minutes, okay? And?—”

“You will text me if I am needed,” Marco says simply, his eyes softening. “Take care of them, yeah? I’ll be waiting.”

I reach over against the center console and give Marco the best hug I can muster in a car. Then, I hop out. Marco told me the house number. On the sidewalk, I’m next to 906, and Ren’s place is 912. Easy enough.

Marco drives past me as I put on my sunglasses and straighten out my black baseball cap. The odds of Ren being outside and me running into them are slim. The odds of Ren being able to notice it’s me underneath my half-assed disguise is great. I hold my breath and hope that I get lucky.

It’s a pretty quiet neighborhood to be so close to the heart of the city. The only people I spot from the short walk to Ren’s house are one couple walking their dog and an older woman taking out her trash. Good. The less people, the better. As usual.

When I’m close to the house, I hold my breath.

I wish Ren had a car or something. It would be much easier to know if they are home or not.

I do not dare walk in front of the house.

There are windows on the side of the building, but I can’t see through them thanks to some closed curtains, which is very on brand for Ren.

I scale the side of the house and easily find my way into the backyard (if you can even call it that with how small it is).

Aside from a small little patio with a little table and two chairs, there isn’t much out here, which is bad news for me, because there’s practically nothing to hide behind. I suppose I’ll just have to figure it out as I go along.

A set of French doors rests to the right of the little table.

I linger at the corner of the side and back of the house, but know I’ll need to find a way to peek in through those doors at some point.

I decide to slowly make my way around the perimeter of the “yard” by crouching down and doing some sort of weird crab walk.

This was definitely not part of my formal training, and my thighs begin to burn instantly.

Unfortunately, all I see through the French doors are shadows underneath from the glare of the sun gradually getting lower in the sky.

However, as soon as I make it to the other side of the perimeter, I spot a little rectangular window on this side of the building, not tall like the ones on the other side.

There are two possibilities there—a window above a kitchen sink or a bathroom window.

I stand up as soon as I round the corner, grunting as quietly as possible from the ache left in my thighs, and then I inch toward the small window. It’s a bit higher up than I’d anticipated, with the bottom coming down to my forehead. I’ll need something to step on if I want to look inside.

“Fanculo!” I whisper-scream. I gently knock my head against the brick in some kind of dramatic frustration before I search for a makeshift step stool.

After briefly glancing around, I come to the conclusion that I have two options.

I can grab the fucking trash can from the other side of Ren’s house, or I can do the crab walk one more time and steal one of the chairs from the back of the house.

My thighs will be sore tomorrow, that’s for sure—but if that’s the small price I have to pay for saving Ren’s life, so be it.

A few minutes later, after dragging the damn chair around to the side of the house like a lunatic, I catch my breath and rest the chair against the house, just off to the side of the window so I can peek in.

Once my breaths even out, I roll my shoulders back and then hop onto the chair. It wobbles a bit, but holds me up, thankfully. I hold my breath and brace myself by placing my hands on the brick and putting my body flush against the wall. Little by little, I move my head until I can see inside.

Inside, I see a dark kitchen with only the stove light on. A hallway connects to the kitchen from an arched entryway. There are a couple of other doors, but I can’t tell where they lead.

I check the time. I’ve killed about twenty minutes, yet it feels like hours.

Come on, Ren. Let me know you’re home.

That’s all I need right now. Once I know they’re home, I can find a different spot to scope out the front of the house until they leave for their assignment. Until then, all I can do is wait. And I do. For almost an entire goddamn hour.

Finally, after taking a small break to stretch out my back before peering back in through the window, I spot Ren. The sight of them almost makes me jump, since I’ve been staring at an empty kitchen for so long. My feet grow a bit unsteady, so I slow down and calm down by taking measured breaths.

At first, Ren seems fine. Normal, even. They pull out a glass from a cabinet and fill it up from the refrigerator.

I make sure to stand as still as possible as I watch.

Ren takes a sip from their cup, sets it on the kitchen island, then hunches over.

Their forehead rests on top of the island, and in seconds, their shoulders begin to shake.

They’re losing it. They’re not okay. I want to crash in through the tiny window or back patio, but I can’t.

They stay like that for a while. At one point, they bang a fist on the counter and I can faintly hear them cry out, but I can’t make out what they say.

I stay there with Ren, unseen, but present in spirit, until they stand up, wipe at their eyes with pale knuckles, and go back down the hall.

There’s no need for me to stay in my uncomfortable position anymore, but I don’t know where I should wait until Ren leaves.

Either way, I’m glad to be back on the ground.

I creep closer to the front of the house, not bothering to put the patio chair back.

My thighs still burn and I have more important things to do.

There’s a hedge separating Ren’s house from their neighbor, and I notice that in one part closer to the street, there’s a gap where the branches have been broken off and there are less leaves.

In no way will it be a comfortable squeeze, but I think I may be able to wedge myself in and sit without Ren or their neighbors noticing me.

Comfort went out the window a while ago, anyway.

Oh well. Like most things, sometimes you have to stick it out and live with being uncomfortable.

After a lot of trial and error, breaking off some branches, and many curse words whispered under my breath, I sit with my knees up, literally wedged in a hedge. I wrap my arms around my knees and glare at a squirrel on a branch about a meter away from me.

Time goes by slowly. By the time the sun grows dimmer in the sky, my entire body is stiff and sore. It’s nearing seven thirty now.

Come on, Ren. Let’s get this over with.

Like an answered prayer, Ren comes outside.

They’re dressed… normally. In jeans and a simple V-neck.

As though they’re about to meet up with a friend for dinner or drinks.

When I stumbled upon them that first night we were assigned the same target, they were dressed in all black, much like how I’m dressed now.

What exactly is their plan, I wonder? Giorgia only got me the case file on the assignment, but there were no instructions on how Catherine wants Ren to execute.

I wait until they’ve locked up and start to walk in the opposite direction of where I sit.

Once they’re far enough away, I grunt and stumble my way out of hiding and onto the grass.

My muscles strain as I stand, but I have to move in order to keep tabs on Ren.

I straighten out my hat and pick up my pace.

We walk for about ten minutes before Ren veers off into a train station.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

How do I find out where they’re headed? My mind spins and throbs as I watch Ren buy a ticket and go inside. After they walk off, I sprint over to the person who helped them and shoot my shot.

“Where to?” the older gentleman asks, unenthusiastically.

“Uh—I need you to tell me where the person in front of me was headed,” I say breathlessly.

He looks up at me with glazed over eyes and crosses his arms. “Huh?”

Internally, I roll my eyes. Whatever . I reach in my bag for my wallet and pull out a fifty. I flash the bill and raise my eyebrows. He reaches under the glass divider and motions for the bill, which I pass over. He pockets the fifty and then asks, “A one way ticket to Alexandria?”

I nod. If that’s where Ren is headed, so be it. “Yes, thank you.”

After paying for the ticket and thanking the man, I sprint off to find the stop for our train. Luckily, it’s not here yet. I spot Ren quickly. They sit on a bench with a backpack resting atop their thighs, looking off into the distance. I stay out of sight by standing behind a column farther back.

Only a couple of minutes pass before the train comes roaring into the station. Ren comes to a stand as the train comes to a full stop and the passengers walk out onto the brick flooring.

Ren is one of the first passengers on board.

I allow several people to get on, then follow an elderly lady on board at the doors farthest away from where Ren entered.

Once I’m on the train, I pull my hat down a bit and scope out the seats.

I spot Ren closer to the middle of the train, so I choose a seat almost all the way in the back, as far away as I can be.

Thankfully, the back of their head faces me, so I shouldn’t get caught.

Still, I’m breathless and feel like I just got off of a rollercoaster ride.

This isn’t like observing someone I’m about to assassinate.

When it’s just me and my target, I’m calm.

Like a predator on the hunt, I am steady and diligent.

But not now. Not with Ren. I can’t stand my emotions.

They’re foreign to me and make me feel wrong .

The heart pounding, the paranoia, the fucking anxiety of it all .

I wonder if this is how Ren feels every day.

If so, I might understand them a little bit better now.

The train takes off shortly after I’m seated. My eyes don’t leave Ren for close to thirty minutes, when the train comes to a stop. For that half hour, my body calmed down a bit. Now that we’re in Alexandria, though, I have to be on high alert once again.

I’m the first one off the train after the doors open. I sprint off and hide behind another column out of sight so I can follow in Ren’s footsteps once they get off. People file off the train not long after I do, and Ren comes out a minute later, apparently not in a huge rush.

Once they’re far enough away from me, walking toward the exit, I move.

It’s not long before we’re outside. The sun is setting in the sky, casting a pleasant yellow and orange glow in the Alexandria sky.

It’s a beautiful city, one that’s much less crazy than D.C.

, which I like. But that also means there are less people to blend in with, so I will have to be even more cautious.

We walk for a good twenty minutes. For a while, I walk slowly behind a young couple walking their German shepherd puppy.

When they turn off into a different neighborhood, I’m directly behind Ren until I slow down my pace and allow a middle-aged woman talking on her phone and power walking to get between us.

Eventually, Ren makes a left into a neighborhood with large houses and beautiful yards. I let them have a head start, and then I turn. Ren has picked up their pace now, though. They’re farther ahead of me than I’d like. I jog some to catch up, so I will be able to tell what house they’re going to.

When Ren slows down a bit, I expect them to scale the side of their target’s house or creep into the backyard. I’m taken aback when Ren takes the two steps up to the front door, squares their shoulders, and then rings the doorbell.