RYAN'S POV
The street was quieter than usual tonight. The kind of eerie quiet that clings to the air like fog. I stood across from Ashley's building, leaning against a streetlamp, cap over my face, jacked zipped up to the neck. My eyes never left her apartment window.
Third floor. Light still on.
I knew her routines better than I knew mine.
She liked chamomile tea before bed. Always had her hair in that lazy bun when she's stressed out. Walking barefoot when she thought no one was watching. And tonight?
She seems unsettled. I could see her pacing, stopping, pacing again.
“Still beautiful,” I muttered to myself. “Still mine.”
I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets and inhaled slowly. The New York air had a bite, but it kept me alert.
I'd changed my name a few days ago, Got a cle
