Series: The Laws of Opposite Attract Series by Vi Keeland
Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 105253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“There’s a strange woman in the elevator who was bothering us just now,” the boy said. He had long, shaggy brown hair that practically covered his eyes, and he wore a vintage Def Leppard T-shirt.
“She was scary and asking us for money,” his sister added. “We don’t think she lives in the building. We’ve never seen her before.”
Heath pointed out to the hallway. “You’d better go check it out.”
I ran down the hall to the elevator. When the doors opened, I panicked at the sight of a woman with long blond hair, lying lifeless on the ground.
My heart raced. Fuck!
When I bent to touch her, I realized the body was plastic, and her hair had shifted off her head.
It’s a mannequin.
A fucking mannequin.
I gritted my teeth and dragged it out of the elevator, leaning it against the wall in the hallway.
Turning around, I was ready to race back to the apartment, but the two kids were right there behind me with their phones in my face. It seemed they’d recorded the entire prank. And now that their secret was out, they were openly laughing at me.
I was about to rip them both new assholes, but then I saw Devyn standing behind them, not a hint of a smile on her face. She clearly had her hands full and very little control of these kids. I didn’t want to look like a jerk, so instead of screaming at Frick and Frack, I forced a laugh—even though there wasn’t anything amusing about this.
Devyn scolded them. “Where the hell did you get that mannequin?”
“We stole it from Macy’s,” the girl said. “Walked right out with it.”
Devyn pointed behind her. “Get the hell inside the apartment and wash up. Both of you!”
They disappeared, leaving Devyn and me standing across from each other in the hallway.
My chest heaved as I stood there, torn between anger and feeling like a dog in heat because of this beautiful woman. More than anything, I wanted to wrap her in my arms and assure her that whatever she was going through right now would get better.
“I have to go,” she finally said, turning toward the apartment.
I followed her. “Devyn, wait. We should talk.”
She turned and shook her head, regret in her eyes. “I really can’t.”
“I understand you have your hands full. I don’t mean tonight.”
“I don’t think so, Owen.” She walked backwards. “I’m sorry.”
If I had a nickel for every time this woman apologized to me…
Devyn returned to the apartment—and closed the door on me.
Again.
CHAPTER 3
Owen
“What’s going on? Did something happen?” Two days later, I walked through the front door of the apartment building after work to find a lobby full of cops.
“Do you live here?” the tallest of the bunch asked.
I nodded. “Up on the second floor. I’m also one of the owners.”
“I’m Officer Wells.” He motioned to another cop, who stepped over to join us. “This is my partner, Officer Tambour. One of the residents in the building came home and interrupted a robbery in her apartment—her name is Mrs. Unger.”
“Shit. Is she okay?”
The cop nodded. “She’s fine. The perpetrator was a kid. We found him up on the roof. The only thing he had was one of her cats. An expensive Persian type, apparently. The thing’s been vandalized.”
My brows pulled together. “The cat’s been vandalized?”
“Yep. It was white. Now it’s dyed orange and black with stripes. Sort of looks like a tiger.”
I closed my eyes. A teenager who stole a cat to dye it? I had a pretty good idea who the perpetrator was.
“Do you know the kid’s name who did it?”
The cop shook his head. “Won’t talk. Other than to call my partner a pig.”
Jesus Christ. “Is he still in the building?”
“Already on the way down to the station for booking.”
Shit. “Alright. Can I go up to my apartment?”
“Sure. We’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”
Rather than hit two on the elevator panel, I pressed the button for the fourth floor. I wasn’t sure if Devyn was home, but I was guessing Heath wasn’t—since he was likely on his way to jail.
I knocked on the door of unit 410 and waited, but no one answered. I was just about to leave when I heard a sneeze from inside. So I knocked again, this time louder. “Devyn? Are you home? It’s important.”
It wasn’t Devyn who opened the door; it was Hannah—the younger of the teenage Bonnie-and-Clyde duo.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Did you not hear me knock the first time?”
“I thought you were someone else.”
“Like who? The cops, maybe?”
Hannah leaned forward and stuck her head out of the door, looking left then right. “Are they here?”
“Not on this floor, but they are downstairs.”
“Did they get Heath?”
I sighed. “What the hell was he doing breaking into Mrs. Unger’s apartment?”
“We didn’t break in. She left the door open. She always leaves her door open.”