My heart hammers against my ribs. This was not part of the plan. There was no plan beyond "sit in the tree and watch," which now seems incredibly stupid.
"I'm going to count to ten," she continues, and there's steel in her voice that doesn't match the soft kindergarten teacher image. "If you don't come down, I'm calling the police. One... two..."
I unmute my phone. "Royal, we have a problem."
“You gave her my fucking name at the coffee shop, didn’t you?!”
"Three... four..."
"No shit, Sherlock. I’m getting out of here. Now."
"Five... six..."
But something stops me from climbing down and running. Maybe it's the way she's standing there fearlessly, calling out a potential stalker. Maybe it's the fact that she spotted me when I thought I was invisible. Or maybe it's because in three nights of watching her, this is the first time she's seemed like someone who might need surveillance.
"Seven... eight..."
"Nine..."
Wait—what the hell?
A shadow moves across the ground and heads right to the steps of her fire escape. Silly woman should not have the steps opened, I thought as I adjusted my monocular, focusing on a figure dressed in black, creeping up the stairs.
"Ten! That's it, I'm calling the—"
I forget all about Lily's countdown as adrenaline surges through me. This is my moment. My redemption arc. If I can intercept this guy, I'll prove I wasn't just being a creep in a tree.
"Royal, someone's heading up her fire escape," I whisper urgently into the phone.
"What? Don't you dare—"
I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket. I scramble to my feet like a deranged raccoon, bark scraping my palms.
The plan forms in my head with startling clarity; tackle the intruder, be a hero, and disappear into the night before Lily can see my face. My all-black attire is finally serving a purpose beyond "professional creeper."
I crouch on the branch, calculating trajectory like I'm in a physics exam I didn't study for. The intruder reaches the fire escape landing. It's now or never.
"AAAAAAARGH!!!" I scream, immediately regretting my battle cry as I launch myself through the air.
Time slows. I'm flying, arms outstretched, feeling simultaneously like Batman and a complete idiot. The gapbetween the tree and the fire escape suddenly seems much wider than I estimated. Maybe if I’d had a running chance, things wouldn’t have gone sideways.
I slam into the metal railing with a resonant CLANG, my torso folding over it like laundry on a line. All the air whooshes from my lungs.
"What the—" The intruder spins around as I flop over the railing, landing in a heap at his feet.
"I meant to do that," I wheezed, as I sat up. That landing took more out of me than I anticipated.
We size each other up—both dressed in black, both not supposed to be here. He's shorter than me but stocky, with a ski mask pulled over his face. At least one of us came prepared. I spring to my feet, fists raised.
"Look, man," he says, raising his hands, "I'm just here to…"
I don't let him finish, launching myself at him with all the grace of a drunk penguin. We crash into Lily's potted plants, sending soil flying everywhere.
"You picked the wrong kindergarten teacher to mess with!" I growl, trying to pin his arms.
"Get off me, you lunatic!" he shouts, kneeing me in the stomach.
We roll across the fire escape, a tangle of limbs and curses. I get him in a headlock; he stomps on my foot. I pull his ski mask halfway up his face; he bites my arm.
