69

Laid in bed in my room at Jake’s apartment, I have dozed in and out of sleep, listening to distant sirens and noises from afar. The calming hustle and bustle of Manhattan. It’s late, I’m tired yet I’m not. I’m somewhere between dosing, and over thinking and restless.

The housekeeper has retired to bed and the apartment security is out wandering the outer halls again. I’m aware of the faint sound of a crackling radio occasionally although they never really venture inside the main part of the apartment, but I like knowing they’re out there. Jake isn’t one for much security, but his father insists. He doesn’t see the need for it when he’s home, he rarely uses it when we’re on business either. I guess he knows he’s capable of beating the crap out of most assailants, seeing as boxing and martial arts are some of his past times.

I’m uneasy and antsy, I know he’s coming home, and I’m afraid