Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But no shots rang out as everyone said their goodbyes, talking about their plans, as I threw myself into the ride-share and lowered down in my seat.
I didn’t remember the last time I left work before ten at night, but the sun was just setting as the car pulled up to my building.
“Early, Miss Riley,” Brian said, giving me his usual warm smile.
“Time for a little break,” I said, forcing a smile that I didn’t feel with the migraine starting to stab in my temples.
I felt like I breathed a sigh of relief as Brian closed the door behind me, feeling like I was out of harm’s way.
Until, of course, I was walking down the hall toward my apartment.
And saw my door cracked open. Not enough that anyone else would probably even notice. But knowing how paranoid I’d been the past few days, there was no way I would have walked away without the door being latched completely.
I mean, even on a normal day, I wouldn’t have been that careless. Kevin could have escaped.
Panic surged, the blood pumping hard, making my migraine reach a fever pitch, stabbing sensations into my temple and behind my eye.
I turned away from my apartment, fighting the desire to close my door before walking toward the elevator, mind on going downstairs to ask Brian if he would come and tour my apartment with me to make sure no one was around.
“Oh,” I said, jerking back when one of the apartment doors opened, and my neighbor moved out, dressed in basketball shorts and a moisture-wicking shirt, likely heading to the gym on the main level. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?” I said.
I didn’t technically know any of my neighbors. But I’d seen them in the laundry room and gym, or passed in the halls. We exchanged, you know, pleasantries. Nothing deeper.
Still, this was a man. A bigger one than Brian, even.
“What’s up?” he asked, not wanting to agree until he knew the details. I was pretty sure this particular neighbor was a lawyer.
“It’s just… my door is open,” I told him, waving back toward my apartment. “I was wondering if you could take a look around with me,” I said.
“Oh,” he said, straightening, shoulders squaring, chest puffing a bit. It was both sweet and a little bit funny how eager he was to be a hero. “Absolutely,” he agreed, closing his apartment door, then walking toward mine.
I followed behind, wincing at the lights in the hallway, even though they’d—thankfully—changed out the stark white LEDs for soft white ones.
“Stay behind me,” he demanded, all machismo as he reached to push open my door.
I was happy to follow his order, though, as we took a step inside my quiet apartment.
What struck me instantly was how much darker it was than it should be since I always left at least a few lights on for Kevin.
Sure, it was entirely possible that a bulb had blown out, but the way my hairs were standing on end said that it wasn’t that simple of an explanation.
I followed my neighbor as he walked into my living room.
It wasn’t until he walked into my bedroom ahead of me as I fell back, looking around for Kevin, that I was justified in my paranoia.
“Eliza—“ my neighbor started to yell, before there was a loud grunt, a slam, and a curse.
My heart tripped into overdrive as I took an automatic step back, the island in my kitchen jutting my back, preventing retreat, even as a form all in black came rushing out of the bedroom, coming right for me.
“No,” I cried out, hearing more curses in my bedroom.
He was still alive, at least. He could maybe still come to save me.
“We’re coming for you, bitch,” the man in the hoodie snarled before cocking back, and swinging.
The punch landed high on my cheekbone, the force behind it sending me flying to the side, crashing to the ground before I could even try to grab for the counter to slow my momentum.
I landed with a cry, my shoulder aching, as I curled into a ball, trying to protect myself from more strikes.
But they never came.
“Elizabeth,” my neighbor called, coming out of the bedroom.
I heard his footsteps near me, but he didn’t stop until he checked around, then closed and locked my door.
“Are you okay?” he asked, coming up to me.
Unfurling from my ball, I sat back against my cabinets, reaching up to press a hand to my throbbing face.
“Yeah,” I said, looking up, seeing blood trickling from his nose. “Are you?” I asked.
“Nothing a little ice won’t fix. He was standing behind the fucking bathroom door,” he said, shaking his head. “Must have heard us coming in and panicked. We should call the police,” he said.
“I didn’t get a good look at him,” I said, shaking my head. “They won’t be able to do anything.”