Thirty - Despicable Me

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It's been three long weeks of no activity.

I speak only in regards to Manuel.
My burgeoning baby bump is a constant reminder that I've got no time to lose, I've got to figure this guy out, like, yesterday.

Baby girl is continuing to grow, showing us how strong she will be. We've hit week 20, were officially at the midway point and our little girl is roughly the size of an artichoke now, which oddly makes me imagine a tiny green baby comfortably hanging about in my stomach. Knowing that she's growing at such a quick pace is calming, it gives me such happiness but also scares me and makes me wish Manuel would let me in on his secrets somehow.

What am I looking for exactly?
I'm not entirely sure.
However, watching him stroll through life without a single fear in his soul irks me.
It's so extremely irksome, watching him day in, day out and seeing nothing untoward going on.

Others might have called it quits already, but I'm not a quitter. I've got to get to the bottom of this.

Alex is none the wiser about my little escapades and I plan on keeping it that way until I get the answers I need.

I can't help but wish that I had Justine's police intel. That'd give me the upper hand I need to discover the true story behind Manuel. I can practically taste the dirt that lies behind his life. The man has something to hide, I know it deep within my guts.

With the little information I have at my disposal, (address, phone number, email address). I'd only been able to scout his house from afar, tailing him whenever he decided to meander from his home. For the most part, I've sat and watched Manuel at many unexciting meetings. Watching him sipping his coffee, eating lunch, making phone calls, in a very relaxed and happy manner. Which is absolutely as boring as it sounds.

Perhaps I'll never figure him out, though I recoil at the thought of never knowing.

I'd decided that I'd see this week out and call it quits, it's been long enough now and I've got to stop wasting time I don't have on this mysterious man.

It is annoyingly in the forefront of my mind.
Grating on me that I can't figure him out.
Why can't he slip up, just once?

Roughly an hour later I return to the office.
I'd pushed today's work load for long enough and I don't need more stress on my already full plate.

Before getting seriously stuck into it, I decide to do one final scan of the hard evidence I've got.
It only takes me a moment to find the file, I'd had it tucked away from prying eyes for quite some time, every now and then re reading to see if I'd missed something, but knowing I hadn't.
The file I have doesn't shed much light on anything, rather offering me the constant tease of my belief that he's not as good as he looks on the outer.
But, from what I've seen, Manuel is squeaky clean.
Almost annoyingly so.

How can he keep such a low profile when committing any kind of illegal activity?
Okay. That's me going and making my own assumptions. I don't actually have any proof of any wrong doings by his hand.

I know this much though, Manuel is incredibly good at keeping what he does behind the scenes a secret, that much is abundantly clear.

But I had really thought that I could find something, given time and patience, something would have to give.

Since I began shadowing Manuel, little flashes of red have been warning me to tread lightly, we've fought long and hard to keep these urges at bay, but I sweep the warning signs aside with ease, I can control myself. I'm not looking for a reason to kill him. I'm looking for answers to figure myself out.
That's all.

Voices swirl dizzyingly in my head, around and around they go.

You're delusional.

You really think this'll work?

You're kidding yourself.

But I push forward, knowing I'm stronger now, I'm not vulnerable prey to my desires anymore.

***

Tucking his file securely in my handbag, I stand up from my desk and casually approach the elevator.

"Danica, wait a sec." Peter calls out to me, as he somewhat jogs over to my side.

"What's up." I ask, pushing my handbag further behind my body.

"Carla wanted me to ask if you would like the baby books that helped her during her pregnancies?"

I narrow my eyes at him, " Have you been speaking with Justine?"

"No, not at all, what gives you that impression?"

"Oh, I don't know, the fact that you know I've been pregnant for a while now and you're only now asking if I'd like to use some baby books to 'help' with my pregnancy. If Justine put you up to this you can go and tell her where to kindly shove it."

Peter pulls a face that I'm not sure how I'm supposed to read, but then he puts his hands out as an admission, "She only means to support you. As I do too."

I let out a little sigh, "I know. I appreciate that you care too, but I really need to figure this out for myself. If I need some help I'll ask. Besides, I've got Alex right here with me the whole way through. So, thank you, but no, I'm really fine right now."

His shoulders relax a little, "Okay, I'll leave you be, but we're all here for you. It's a big change in your life, you'll see that soon enough. Look, I've got to run, but can you make sure you check in on Jen before you leave? I've put her in charge of handling the paperwork for the Litmore case."

I nod, "No worries."

He throws me a quick, "See ya tomorrow.", and then he's gone.

Deciding against my prior plans, I instead spend the rest of my day in the office, tending to my actual job, knowing that I can't let that slide on by me.

Though it doesn't mean my mind stayed focussed, I struggled to keep myself from returning to re read Manuel's file, despite it being practically imprinted on my brain.


***

Another short week goes by, a completely uneventful week that I'd hoped to have solid evidence of Manuel's brilliant separation tactics.

Yet nothing at all seemed untoward.

I'd shadowed him for hours on end, watching him go about his day as though he's not a violent and guilty criminal. He has me almost believing I had been wrong all along.

But I'm not. I know I'm not.
I simply can't tell you why I'm not wrong.

It'd become seriously tedious, following in Manuel's very calculated and conscious steps, like he got his kicks off knowing he's got everything completely covered.

He probably did, I couldn't help but scowl at the thought.

This guy. With his every movement figured out. His every thought and every fucking word from his mouth perfectly constructed, as though he's a fucking scripted being.

I hated him, I realised.

Hated him for having himself so god damn well put together.

It couldn't be normal.
No human being knows what the fuck they're really doing with themselves, surely.

Or was that only me?

It's hard to ignore the fact that I don't have any of my shit put together.

I am well and truly a puzzle that's missing it's pieces, an incomplete image of confusion, well beyond any help. A spectacular mish-mash of items that don't belong. I belong in a fucking zoo.

My label would read : Extremely endangered, proceed with great caution, not to be mated.
A danger to all.

I resist the urge to snort at my realisation.

Not to be mated.
Fuck. Wish I'd have been more cautious about that.

I glance down at my stomach in distaste, not for the beautiful life that is growing within, but in disgust at myself for not considering her life more before this moment in time.

Selfish.

That's certainly how I feel about myself.

How can one human being with so many deaths on their conscience figure themselves out to live the perfect, white picket fence life?

Surely it's well beyond my reach now.

Had I pushed it further from me by trying to find more answers with Manuel?

There is a great chance that I had.

My selfish desires are a constant mental war for me.

Will I ever be able to win against their needs?

What if this is all that's in store for me?

A constant war of words with myself mentally about the wrongs of my desires.

How do I fit in a newborn baby with that picture, let alone a toddler or a growing child, a pre teen, a teenager, a young adult...?

Tears burn behind my eyes, threatening me. I rub my eyes angrily, shoving the traitorous things back into my heavy eye sockets.

Am I not trying to drag myself away from the danger? Hadn't I proven to myself that I had restraint by not taking it any further with Chester?

Hadn't I?

The thought halts my mind, a misstep of sorts. Weren't we in control now? We are only looking for answers to questions that have evaded us for so long. Manuel could have those answers, there's no harm in us witnessing the concrete self control that this man clearly has.

I furrow my brow, processing the facts.

Was I fooling myself by believing that I wasn't in too deep with Manuel?

Is it a clear case of witness and collate evidence?
Was I searching for anything beyond facts?

I shake my head once, ridding myself of the thoughts.

Leave it be.

You've committed no crimes. You're doing well.
So what, you're basically stalking someone, it's not for any fucked up kind of reason. Purely research.

Yep.
Research and maybe a slight amount of justification for myself.

I do feel somewhat justified for the sins I've made.
Besides the fact I'm not religious by any means, I do feel that justification suits the criminal acts I've committed.

I'm not a denier of my wrongs, simply because they were only wrong in the eyes of the law, and okay, probably the eyes of religion too, but let's not get too deep into that side of things.

Religion is certainly not my forte.

Be it as it may, I feel no remorse for the lives I've taken.

But I do feel that I must learn to control my inner beast. Like a broken record, I hear myself reminding myself that I still haven't gotten my shit sorted out.

My inner musings are a slight cause for concern though, mentally I'm probably considered borderline unstable, the slumbering killer in me doesn't need to tell me that either.

I'm getting off track, I reroute my train of thought, actually envisioning metal train tracks shifting back to the initial matter at hand.

There will one day be something that makes it easy for me, however right now, I don't think the key to my problems is Manuel, unfortunately.

It all seemed too simple.

That should've been the obvious clue that it wasn't. I decide to finally shelve Manuel, returning his file to the correct filing cabinet and pushing him from the forefront of my mind. This isn't my chase anymore, this isn't where my answers lie.

Perhaps brighter things on my horizon will guide me through this fog.

The haze is thick, even suffocating at times, though not all encompassing.




:::::::::::::::



Holy shit.

This second stretch of the chapter came almost toooooo easily.
I know it mustn't seem that way to you readers, but god damn, here it is.

Read it and weep!!

Or not. Just enjoy that I've FINALLY brought another chapter out to you.

*wipes sweat off brow*

(Yes, this chapter is titled after the films. Fun fact, I have a minion tattoo of Bob beside the right side of my rib cage. It's an inside joke with me and my other half. And seriously, who doesn't love those little guys?)

It's been hard going, this particular section of the series. Like dragging my body through thick, sucking cement, hardening every bloody second.

Thanks for sticking around with all of my laggy, non writing moments, I do appreciate you all immensely.

It's tough. Knowing where this story is leading me, but the chapters in between not complying to my will.

*scowls and purses lips in annoyance*

Albeit, this story has an end, it truly does and we will make it to the finale. I can't wait!!
But I can too, because I love Alex and Danica, despite their imperfections.

Okay, I've said enough now, I should go now...

Again, thank you.
One day these books will become true pages, the dream lives.

Hope you enjoyed the read, as usual.
Shantelle :)

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