Counting Minutes | Gay MxM |

7. Seeing a Ghost

-Blake-

Jordan seemed to be doing just fine. I had watched him for a few hours, admiring his looks and delicate frame, until he went to sleep. When I finally had started moving, it was almost midnight. Now I knew he was doing fine. Now I could move on, and start all over in another city, far away from here. I had fetched my bag, exited the neighborhood, and when the morning arrived, I bought a ticket for the first bus leaving the city. I couldn't wait to get out of here.

"Why isn't he coming downstairs?" I muttered, peering through the binoculars, studying the Simmons family while they were having breakfast.

Okay, yeah – I never got on that bus.

I was now officially obsessed over Jordan Simmons. I had bought as much food as I could carry on my way back to my camp. I also had a nice little tent now, hidden under thick branches by a small, rocky cliff behind me. I had bought some magazines and other stuff to pass my time with, and a warmer set of clothes in case the weather turned bad.

It wasn't even that cold to sleep outside, not yet. I had enough time to find a warmer place to spend my winter. That was the reason I had planned the Simmons heist in the first place. I usually spent the coldest months somewhere warm, but I needed a lot of money to do so. The risk of getting caught grew every time I stole something or robbed someone, so when I was planning on staying in one place for a couple of months, I had to make a few bigger heists somewhere else. There was still a month or two before it would get really cold, so I had some time to spare.

I knew I was being a stalker, but Jordan was way more interesting than any jewel I had ever seen, and I had to say, the entire Simmons family fascinated me. I really was too curious for my own good. I wanted to know why I hadn't seen Jordan even once during the time I was camping on the hill. I'd been watching the house carefully, but I hadn't seen any signs of his existence. So what the hell?

I was determined to learn his secret, and I wasn't going to take my eyes off the house until I knew the answer. I would find out everything there was to know about Jordan, no matter what. There was also another thing bothering me. It was obvious the Simmons were broke, so why did they live in an expensive neighborhood, in an expensive house?

"Here comes George..." I muttered, turning to look at an older car approaching the house.

Every morning that old man came to the house, usually bringing food with him. He was the one who answered the door and helped the family around the house. Wasn't that exactly what a butler would do? He was always dressed neatly, just like the butlers in movies did. I'd found a framed photograph of him with Mrs. Simmons on her graduation day, kissing her on the check. It was easy to tell it was the same man since he had a few moles on his face. George here had to be Mrs. Simmons' father.

"Mistake number one," I sighed, and put down the binoculars. "Never assume anything."

I had been too busy admiring Mrs. Simmons' jewelry to make sure they were actual diamonds. I had assumed her father was a butler because of how he looked. Now I understood he brought groceries every morning because the family couldn't afford it.