When Perfect Meets Crazy novel Chapter 24

“Real funny,” Masked Idiot grumbled, falling into step with me as I walked along the curb, making the short trek to our vehicles.

“I thought it was.” I shrugged.

The tutoring session had gone well, my student was improving by leaps and to top it off, I made Masked Idiot hang outside, reacquainting himself with the great outdoors for a whole hour and a half which he had to have hated. All things considered, I was feeling pretty good about myself.

I stole a glance at his profile, silently debating whether or not to follow through with my plan. I had stewed over it the entire time I was tutoring. He knew too much about me. Sure, I didn’t think he would do anything to hurt me but something had been off about him for a while now. I couldn’t shake the feeling something bad was about to happen. I needed to find a soft spot to press, just in case it did.

I sneakily took a picture of him while I was in the Davidsons’ house. It involved a lot of zooming in and improvisation but I managed it. Explaining why I was standing at the window with my phone up wasn’t a pleasant experience but I got the picture so it was worth it. As soon as I got the chance, I was going to ask Parker to look into him for me. Hopefully, he won’t ask too many questions about why.

Now it was time for phase two.

“I have a theory I want to run by you,” I informed him.

His brows rose, confused surprise coloring his features.

“Ohh-kay.” He slowed his pace. “I’ll do my best to help.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I will know when I get warm. Your expression will tell me.”

“My expression?” He frowned, stopping in his tracks.

“Don’t worry about it. I have that part covered.” I flashed him an innocent smile. “It’s something I learnt from my dad. It’s part of the theory I want to try out.”

He nodded reluctantly and gestured for me to get on with it. I stopped, drew in a deep breath, schooled my face into expressionless mask and faced him.

A rich kid as an underground fighter didn’t make sense for so many reasons and I definitely wasn’t mistaken about him being rich. His watches that I had seen so far included Muellers, a Rolex, Hublots and a few Richard Milles. And those were just the ones I recognized. Then, there was his two hundred thousand dollar donation at the gala which pretty much cemented the rich kid theory. No illegal job paid that much.

Well, drug trade and armed robbery aside.

Fortunately, I was willing to bet I was a better shot than he was so that cancelled out high stakes armed robber. That and I had never seen a gun on his person. It was doubtful he had one or he would’ve pulled it out on me already, to put the fear of God in me and whatnot.

On the other hand, he didn’t have the looks of a drug dealer. His nose was too straight and his eyes too communicative for a dealer. And if despite all the reasons he couldn’t be one, he was, I would’ve known. I may or may not, sort of, have a contact in the drug network. A friend of a friend situation. It wasn’t a relationship I was proud of or one that I formed knowingly but yes, I had a few skeletons in my closet before Masked Idiot rolled around. 

Anyway, the only plausible explanation left was that there was some obscure convoluted reason for his illegal activities. One that didn’t involve money. Money was the only universal motivator. My dad had hammered it into my head since I was a kid to be wary of people who didn’t follow established patterns of greed. Anything outside the norm, especially emotional motivations, was touchy. Outliers could easily spell betrayal.

I eyed him up, suspicion coating my gaze.

I needed to trick him into revealing his motive, whatever it was because, thanks to his attitude lately, I was now hyper aware of the fact that I only ever felt the creepy stalker-like gaze when he was conveniently absent. Always only when he was unaccounted for.

Sometimes you need to say things out loud to realize what you’re missing. A flickered gaze, a twitch of the fingers, dilated pupils. It’s the small details you have to watch closely for. That’s where you’ll find the full story, my dad’s voice reminded me.

That was phase two. It was a trick both Olly and I had picked up from him. Well, I actually wasn’t sure if Olly picked it up too. He always used to tell us when we were younger that sometimes we’d be too hung up on one line of thought or on the big things that we’d fail to see how the small dots connected. That we’d ‘be too busy trying to avoid the truck, we’d end up running over the pedestrian.’

He would say we should say it out loud, think out loud. That it would help us pick up on the small clues and to do it in front of the suspect if possible and watch their reaction to each word. It was a trick he used when interrogating. He used to repeat it all the time. It pissed Olly and I off so much back then. We’d surreptitiously roll our eyes but nod diligently whenever he was looking.

It was time to see how well it would work on Masked Idiot.

I glanced behind, noting that we were far enough from the Davidsons’ home that I wasn’t going to be seen arguing with an unknown boy on the curb.

“What is your big theory then?” he inquired with an exaggerated eye roll.

Time to get the show on the road.

“Your off days,” I began, pausing to prop one hand on my hip. “By that I mean the days you’re not visibly following me around.”

He nodded impatiently, urging me to get to the point.

“On some of those days, you not so covertly stalk me from afar like a proper psycho, yes?”

He frowned, visibly tensing. My stomach sank with despair and unexpected disappointment. It was then I realized how much I had been hoping it was just in my head.

“On the remaining occasional days,” I persevered, ignoring the chill that had washed over me. “You don’t, so I’m inferring it’s on those days that you actually catch up on your real life. Correct?”

Ease him into it, slowly and gently. You don’t want him to be on guard, my dad’s voice warned.

Masked Idiot straightened his features into an unreadable mask.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

That was practically an admission. My stomach sank further, clenching with an unidentified feeling.

“Sure, you do.” My tone was conversational, teasing even. On the inside however, I was a flaming cocktail of emotions. “Now, yesterday you were away but I didn’t feel that creepy gaze. The day before that though, you were also away and I felt it.”

His expression morphed into a frown.

“Warmer?” I asked tersely, unable to help myself.

I had done everything to make him comfortable, to make things easier for him, to help him see that I had no ties to anything illegal and wanted none. How many teenage girls would have accommodated him -a criminal, for heaven’s sake- the way I had? Yet, to repay me, he was going behind my back. I was very quickly edging into pissed territory.

Keep your cool, the logical part of my subconscious warned. I ignored it.

“Wow. I actually cannot believe you.” I took a step closer, my lips spread in a vicious smile. “You have guts. I’ll give you that.”

“What?” His frown deepened, portraying lack of comprehension.

He really was staying true to his slow human act. Was I supposed to buy that? My anger exponentiated.

Fine, my subconscious caved. If you’re going down this road, make sure to drive him to the edge until he lets something slip.

This advice I welcomed heartily.

“Wow.” I laughed darkly. “I mean, wow. You actually deserve an award, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” he questioned.

“I have you made, asshole!” I hissed. “How dare you? How...?” I stopped, the words getting choked by my anger.

I released my breath in a huff, fisting my hands at my sides as I forced myself to take two deep breaths. Breathe, Avy. Calm down.

I forced a smile unto my face, met his gaze and said, “You played it so well. I’m highly impressed.”

He frowned, shaking his head in a confused manner.

“To my face, you pretend you’re almost kind.” My smile was all teeth and sharp edges. Even an obtuse baby wouldn’t have mistaken it for a kind smile. “That you’re normal. That all you want from me is to make sure I don’t say or do anything that could get you in trouble.” I laughed sardonically. “Nicely done.”

He nodded slowly, tentatively.

He was either a very talented actor or he was truly confused. Obviously, it was the former. I wasn’t going to let him fool me with that again.

“Don’t,” I hissed. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to pretend to be clueless anymore. I know already. I have figured you out. On those ‘off days’ of yours, when you don’t show up, I can feel you watching me. I just never said anything because I wanted to catch you at it. You’re good though. I haven’t been able to actually spot you doing it but I can feel it. I can tell I’m being watched so just give it up.”

“Excuse me?” His brows furrowed, his forehead creasing up.

“Do you know what gave you away?” I continued.

My tone was far more poisonous than an adder.

His eyes darted left then right before settling back on me as though to be sure I was actually talking to him. He opened his mouth to reply but the lie he planned on spouting must not have been fully cooked yet because he ended up closing it a few seconds later.

My eyes narrowed to slits.

“It was your eyes, genius,” I revealed. “The gaze I feel watching me. It’s malicious. Spiteful. It’s not a gaze that just wants to ‘make sure I’m not talking to the wrong people.’ I’ve had people look at me the way you do.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“My dad is a cop. The sheriff at that. A few times over the years, when I drop by at the station, there’s a criminal in cuffs looking like he’d love to get me alone in a dark alley. I recognize the look. I know it. I’d recognize it anywhere. You deserve props though. You had me fooled for a minute there.”

The look of utter confusion on his face unexpectedly had me faltering in my anger and conviction. His eyes were wide and guileless in a way that one just couldn’t fake without at least being a multiple Oscar winner.

Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure where the lies ended and the truth began.