Hidden (To Love A Killer #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

couldn’t place why. There was something primitive in her gaze, fiercely animalistic and wild with a hint that she had already been wounded.
                  What struck Ash the most about his neighbor was that he felt like he already knew her. He felt connected to her. It was an eerie feeling he couldn’t explain or make sense of, but one he trusted. She wasn’t normal and neither was he. He liked to think of himself as keeping an eye on her and at times would let himself fantasize about protecting her, holding her thin body close, escaping with her in his arms. He knew it was a weird thing to do. In this instance, there was a fine line between fantasy and reality. Ash hoped that soon the two would intersect.
                  Besides, people couldn’t help where their minds wandered to, he reasoned. It wasn’t as though he had control over every thought. He liked to wonder about what she might be thinking, what her dreams were, her hopes for her life. People like them didn’t exactly hold on to high hopes. Usually it was some form of simple peace they were after. He wondered how similar her dreams might be to his own. He wondered if she liked his name. Did she like his face? 
                  Ash snubbed his cigarette out, scraping it firmly against the iron radiator, and flicked the butt in the general direction of a wastebasket that was resting in the corner of the room. Smoking had done nothing to cool him down. The cigarette may have even made the stagnant temperature of the apartment worse. And yet the discomfort that resulted compelled him to light a second. This was how he liked to unwind, how he needed to decompress after a long day of waiting, watching, tracking. It was a strange life. There was little reward, but Ash had no choice. He had to stay off the grid, which meant no payroll jobs, nothing that would require filling out paperwork, providing a social security number or any form of ID.
                  He had lived his entire life outside of society. It was how he had been raised. It was what he had been designed to be, a ghost of sorts. A “contract” had brought him to New York, and Ash was starting to wonder how much longer he could tread water. Some contracts made less sense than others. This one had turned into an ocean of fantasies and mysteries. The risk of drowning was increasing.
                  Ash ran his fingers through his damp hair, which clung momentarily back then fell messily into his eyes. He should shower, maybe after this cigarette. For the time being, he was more interested in staring out his window, watching how the light from the girl’s apartment spilled out across the rusted fire escape railings, then he was in the shower, rinsing away the sweaty stickiness from his skin.
                  He had once watched the girl climb out onto her fire escape to smoke. He wondered if she might do something like that again tonight.
                  Ash rose to his feet and leaned against the soot stained windowsill, arching his head out the window to see if he could catch a glimpse inside the girl’s apartment. He could see nothing but shapes and shadows. There seemed to be no movement over there, so Ash let his gaze wander across the vast cityscape. The city sparkled, the bright lights twinkling, encouraging all who gazed out that their dreams would come true. Here and there lights rolled from yellow to red, from red to green, rhythmically orchestrating the distant flow of traffic. He caught the faint briny scent of the water, though it hid well mingling under the smell of hot garbage that wafted up from the street and his own cigarette smoke lingering in the air.
                  He reached his hands up, bracing them against the window frame, and leaned out a bit farther. His arms flexed hard under the strain. The muscles were long and lean, chiseled and glistening with sweat. Ash looked down. The