When Perfect Meets Crazy

“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. 

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.

suspicion coating

his attitude lately, I was now hyper aware of the fact that I only ever felt the creepy stalker-like

say things out loud to realize what you’re missing. A flickered gaze, a twitch of the fingers, dilated pupils. It’s the

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

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

see how well

glanced behind, noting that we were far enough from the Davidsons’ home that I wasn’t

theory then?” he inquired with

the show on the

hip. “By that

urging me to

not so covertly stalk

with despair and unexpected disappointment. It was then I realized how much I had been hoping

had washed over me. “You don’t, so I’m inferring it’s on

it, slowly and gently. You don’t want him to be on

straightened his features into

what you’re talking about,”

My stomach sank further,

cocktail of emotions. “Now, yesterday you were away but I didn’t feel that creepy gaze. The day before that though, you

morphed into

I asked tersely, unable to

teenage girls would have accommodated him -a criminal, for heaven’s sake- the way I had? Yet, to repay me,

logical part of my subconscious warned.

closer, my lips spread in a vicious smile. “You have guts. I’ll

deepened, portraying lack of

true to his slow human act.

going down this road, make sure to drive him to

I

I laughed darkly. “I mean, wow. You actually