Page 22 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)

Wren

It feels like all I’ve been doing lately is job hunting.

Walking from one end of the city to the other, back and forth, covering so many miles in a day that there are blisters all over my feet.

You’d think in a city this big, there would be plenty of opportunities for work. But for someone without a home address, I face more barriers than most.

Employers tend to assume people like me are alcoholics, mentally ill, or addicted to drugs. Sometimes all three. That usually shoves me to the bottom of the list, no matter how well the interview goes.

They can’t tell by looking at me that I’m a hard worker—that I’m always early, always willing to stay late, happy to pick up shifts, or show up on short notice.

And if I bring up the fact that I suffer from chronic migraines? That’s just another strike against me, and I can never decide if it’s worth the risk of revealing my condition.

It’s been hard. I try not to dwell on it constantly, but I can’t deny it takes a toll on my mental health. So, I did something reasonable. I took a day off .

I spent most of it basking in the warm sunlight at a nearby park, reading the epic fantasy novel Ronald gave me, trying not to drown in guilt over wasting a day I could’ve spent job hunting.

When the late afternoon sun began to fall, I headed east to watch the sunset from Riverdale Park. I found a quiet patch of grass at the top of the hill, facing the city, and settled in to read another couple of chapters of Ronald’s book.

Sitting here now, I’m glad I took a moment to breathe.

The sky is painted in the brilliance of the setting sun, every hue of pink, orange, and blue bleeding across the horizon. Thick, billowy clouds catch the light like puffs of cotton candy suspended in the air.

It’s breathtaking, and so worth the almost two hour walk it took to get here. I’ll never grow tired of watching the sun set behind the city skyline.

Watching the sunset and reading is one of my fondest memories of my mom. We used to grab whatever books we were reading at the time, and she’d drive us out to the northern escarpment just beyond the city.

It was a twenty-minute hike to reach one of the lookouts, and we’d sit on the bench in quiet companionship, reading until the forest was cloaked in shadow and it was time to head home.

I miss those evenings, and I miss her.

I get through several chapters of the thick novel before something has my eyes lifting off the page to glance back over my shoulder. I can feel eyes on me, more than the random glances of the other people enjoying the sunset .

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out, already knowing what I’ll find. There’s a new message from Dominic.

DOMINIC

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

I glance around, my eyes sweeping across the grassy hillside, dotted with couples and scattered groups of people. It’s a massive park, with more than enough space for each group to have privacy, and for someone to blend in and stay hidden.

My thumb hovers for a minute, then I tap the call button in the bottom right corner of the screen.

He picks up on the first ring, but I’m the one who speaks first.

“Stalking is illegal, you know,” I quip gently, still scanning the area in search of him.

He hums, low and amused. “Have you decided whether or not you’re going to turn me in?”

I think about it for a minute. He hasn’t done anything… well, aside from killing someone who tried to murder me. And stalking me across the city. “Not yet.”

“If I wasn’t stalking you, I wouldn’t be able to tell you how beautiful your hair looks in the sunlight. Every time the wind catches it, it looks like it’s on fire. ”

My breath catches. I lift my hand, brushing the windswept strands behind my ear. “That’s oddly romantic for a stalker,” I murmur.

“I wouldn’t be worthy of the title if I didn’t notice how beautiful you are.” His voice is deep and smooth. It sends a shiver racing down my spine as a gust of chilly wind brushes across my face.

“You’d be the first person to notice me at all,” I confess, sadness bleeding through the words before I can stop it.

“I see you, Wren,” he promises. “The fact that no one else does only proves how hopeless humanity really is.”

I laugh softly, a blush creeping up my neck. “Where are you? Come sit with me, Stranger Danger.”

He chuckles, a low rumble through the phone. “Am I really a stranger, Wren? After everything we’ve been through?”

He’s teasing me, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“I guess not,” I reply, thoughtful.

“It’s getting late, little lamb. You should head back to the shelter.”

I glance at the time on my screen before lifting the phone back to my ear. “You going to follow me the whole way there?"

“You’ll never walk alone again,” he says simply, and I’m surprised by the conviction in his voice.

Before I can respond, the line goes silent. I stare at the screen until it fades to black, then slip the phone back into my pocket .

After being alone for so long, it feels strange to have someone become a constant in my life, even though they’re technically a murderous stalker.

I know something’s wrong here. Dangerous, even. If I had a friend—or even a single living family member—and told them what was happening, they’d beg me to call the police. They would tell me to block his number, and to run and hide.

But I don't. And so, here I am—watching the sunset, after having an almost ordinary conversation with a man that killed someone to save my life.

I asked him to come and sit with me, no less. The man that has been stalking me like a total psychopath.

There’s obviously something wrong with me too, but despite all he’s done, he’s only ever been a beacon of safety in my life.

I gather my things and rise, taking one last glance across the hillside, scanning every face I can see, still searching for him.

When I find nothing, I start heading back in the direction of the shelter.

By the time I get there, the city has fallen under the cover of night. With the sun setting earlier now that summer’s over, I still have plenty of time to secure a bed.

I pause outside of the building, my eyes searching the shadows.

My phone buzzes, so I pull it out again and read the waiting message.

DOMINIC

Go inside and get some sleep. I'll keep you safe.

My heart aches. That word—safe—it’s like an arrow straight to the most vulnerable part of me, piercing right through and settling deep in my soul.

I’ve been an outsider in this world for my entire adult life, and all I’ve ever wanted was to belong to someone, even though I’ve spent all of my time just fighting to survive. I want to be seen, and now that I have someone’s attention, I’m becoming addicted to it.

Whether it’s a tonic, or it’s venom, remains to be seen.

I stare at the screen while the butterflies in my belly flutter madly, frantic in their hysteria. Then I type out a response.

ME

Don’t you have more important things to do?

DOMINIC

Nothing is more important than you.

The butterflies turn violent, stirred by confusion. I just don’t understand what he sees in me. What about me is worth all of his time and attention ?

I lift my gaze as a group of women with children make their way toward the shelter doors. I quickly pocket my phone, taking it as my cue to head inside and make sure I get a cot for the night.

I follow after them, waiting in line as they check in.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to dive back into the job hunt. Part of me, despite all reason, hopes I get to see Dominic again, too.