9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

I didn’t think the customers would ever stop coming tonight at work. I prefer to work the breakfast crowd over the dinner rush. In the morning people are generally in a better mood and happy to be getting a coffee. In the evening, I find customers are tired from work and rude. I stuff my tips in my bag and let my hair down. As I’m running my fingers through my hair to undo the tangles, Chris hesitates at the back door with the last bag of garbage of the night.

“Are you single?”

“What?” I laugh under my breath, taken aback.

“You said that guy the other day was just a friend, and I haven’t noticed anyone else coming around.”

“Are you?” I purse my lips, trying not to hurt his feelings. “Are you asking me out?”

“That depends on the answer to my question.”

Oh no. Not only is he not my type, but now working with him is going to be even more awkward than it was already beginning to feel. “I don’t date people I work with. ”

“I’ll quit then.” He has this hopeful and eager tone in his voice.

“I wouldn’t and couldn’t ask you to do that. You don’t even know if you like me, and I just had a terrible breakup. I’m not really looking to date anyone at the moment, ya know?”

“I get it.” he slinks out the door to take out the trash and I decide to leave out the front. I’m not saying he’d try something, but the guy gives off weird as hell vibes. It’s like he’s always watching me too closely. I can feel his gaze tracking me through the diner when I’m waiting on tables.

Walking to my car, I check over my shoulder to make sure he’s not following me. As I’m crossing the street, I spot a car that looks similar to my ex-boyfriend’s. My suspicion is confirmed when he pops out of the driver’s side and ambushes me.

“Can we talk?”

“Have you been sneaking into my apartment?”

“Shit. Fuck.” He wipes a hand over his sandy brown hair and cups the back of his neck. “No. Why? What happened?”

“Forget it. What do you want?”

“I really need to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Us.” He takes a step toward me, practically pressing me into the door of my car .

I laugh in his face. “There’s not been an us since you ghosted me. So no, Cade. We can’t talk about us. You’ve got some nerve.”

“Let me explain.” He stares at his feet. “I — Lottie. Please.”

“Well. Say what you came to say. Spit it out already.”

“Can we go somewhere?” He glances around like he’s looking for someone. As if he’s being watched.

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’ve wanted to reach out. I’m sorry. Things weren’t supposed to go down like they did.”

“Cool. We done?”

“It’s not safe, Lottie.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything okay over there?” Chris calls out from across the street.

“I’ve gotta go.” Cade turns and sprints back toward his car.

“Wait. Ugh.” I stomp my foot as he speeds off.

Chris crosses the street as I’m getting in my car, and I don’t have the spoons to be friendly right now. “I’m sorry. It looked like that guy was bothering you.”

“He wasn’t,” I snap and practically slam the door in his face. I drive off and glance in my rearview mirror to see Chris staring after me, hands tucked in his pockets. I shouldn’t have yelled at him, but it wasn’t any of his business .

Even though I doubt he’d go home, I cruise past Cade’s apartment. I don’t see his car, but it looks like one of his lights is on. What did he mean? It’s not safe? Is he in some kind of trouble? And if he is, why am I inviting myself to partake in his issues? Whatever they are, I should forget it and go home. I can’t help but wonder if the bullet under my pillow was meant for him instead.

Where has he been all this time?

I have so many questions.

Against my better judgement, I park my car on the side street.

I’ve always hated Cade’s apartment. It’s why he practically lived with me. It’s always given me the creeps. We had good times, though. We’d watch the people coming in and out of the dry cleaner’s shop below and make up stories about what they were dropping off and why. There was one guy who seemed to be a regular. Cade always swore he worked for the mob. I brush off those thoughts because as many good times as we had, there were bad ones to outweigh them. I trudge up the dimly lit stairwell, debating turning back to my car, only I’ve already come this far. May as well get this over with.

There are only two apartments. One belonged to Cade and the one on the other side belonged to Mr. Honeycutt, a retired veteran who passed away about three months ago. No one ever moved into his unit, as far as I can tell .

I knock on Cade’s door three times with no answer. I’m betting his spare key is still on the upper ledge of the doorframe. I’m not sure if I’m tall enough to reach it, but maybe the keypad on Mr. Honeycutt’s door is the same as it was before. Cade had given it to me once to feed the cat when his neighbor was in the hospital. He also had a spare key to Cade’s place. I knock on the other door a few times and hope that I’m not about to break into some poor stranger’s place while they are in the shower or something. I punch in the code and bingo. Success. I grab the key and let myself in. The apartment is empty except for a stepladder and some remodeling stuff. Someone’s been painting the walls. I borrow the stepladder and use it to check for Cade’s key. Right where it always was. I hurry to unlock his door in case someone shows up.

Cade’s place resembles the unit next door. Empty. Still, I do a quick walkthrough and check the bedroom closet. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find. Nothing is here.

I have no choice other than to go home. I’m not wasting my night driving around searching for him. So that’s exactly what I do. Maybe he’s screwing with me. Maybe he gets off on freaking people out. Whatever this game is, I’m not taking part. I refuse.

At home, I shut my car off and out of habit I look around. I don’t see anything or anyone out of place and hate that I have this sense of urgency to check every single time I’m coming or going .

My phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number.

I slide my thumb across the screen and click the messages. There’s only one word.

Sorry.

Fuck off, Cade.

I block the number after I hit send.

Tomorrow I’m going to the animal shelter and adopting the biggest and meanest dog they have, and I’ll train him or her to bite the ass off anyone who enters my apartment uninvited. No matter who they are.

As soon as I hit the breezeway, the atmosphere feels off. The hair on my arms stands at attention, and that uneasy sensation of being watched consumes me. I consider knocking on my neighbor’s door and asking them to walk into my place with me. A sane person would call the police and have them enter first. I don’t want to be afraid of my apartment. This has to stop. I’ve let Cade and his little tricks psyche me out.

I take one more glance back at the parking lot. I’m being dumb. I’ve got a frozen ready to be baked pot pie waiting in the freezer for me and a new tub of cookies n’ cream ice cream. While my dinner bakes, I’m taking a bubble bath and forgetting all about threats, bullets, games, and Cade.

Sucking a deep breath, I exhale and get over my paranoia by unlocking the door. Creeping through the doorway quietly, I pause and listen for any unusual noises, then check the sliding door that leads to the fire escape. Locked as it should be. I flip on all the lights, set the oven to preheat, lay out my pajamas, and run my bathwater. My food takes forty-five minutes to bake, giving me plenty of time to soak.

With my food in the oven, I light some candles and turn some soothing music on low. If I had a drink and a reading tray to hold my e-reader, I’d be set. Laying my head back on my tub pillow, I shut my eyes and let the world and all my worries melt away as I sink further into the warm bubbles. Until the sound of glass shattering breaks me out of my short-lived tranquility.

I jump out of the tub and wrap my robe around me, not caring that water is dripping all over the floor. I lock the bathroom door and cram myself inside the small towel closet. Well, the bottom half of it. I’m glad I have little stored under the shelves or else I’d never fit in here. Crouched in the dark closet, I keep both my hands twisted on the knob with a death grip, waiting and listening.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” a gruff voice that I don’t recognize calls out.

What has Cade got me messed up in? If I make it out of here, I’m going to kill him myself.

Boom. Crack. The bathroom door splinters off the frame, then there’s a heavy thud followed by silence .

I hold my breath and count to one hundred while listening for movement. Nothing. Silence follows other than the music I was listening to during my bath. I twist the knob to crack the closet door, but can’t get it open very far. It’s catching on something. Oh my God. I clamp a palm to my mouth. There’s a body. I shove as hard as I can using my feet and get the door cracked enough to shimmy out of it. Blood pools from beneath the side of his face. I’m guessing he must have slipped on the water I got all over the floor. Judging by the way his eyes and mouth are both wide open, he was as shocked as I am.

Pressing two fingers to his neck, I check for a pulse and quickly scurry back, taking in the damage he did to the bathroom door. A sane person would call the police, but I dial the one person I know who will know what to do.

Seth Creed.