AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The offer to have her work for me full time was on the tip of my tongue. Especially now, when she was shopping for her next meal ticket. I’d be able to pay her under the table, take her with me around the world, fuck her,andwork. A quadruple win in my books, and a pretty sweet arrangement altogether. The only thing stopping me from doing so was the knowledge I was going to get bored with her in a few weeks, max. I always did.
Good thing Duffy didn’t expect anything from me. When we weren’t working together or screwing each other, we were just roommates who got along well. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Well.” She blew out air. “Wish me luck.”
“Break a le ... never mind.” I shook my head. “It’d be a nightmare to nail you. Best of luck.”
She rolled her eyes, grabbed her purse, and swatted my shoulder with it. “Check on Charlie, will you?”
Groaning, I peeled myself off the couch and wobbled to the fridge. “Sure. Why not. It’s not like I have a job to do.”
“Has Emmett said anything about the pictures?” She twisted her head to follow me while I opened the fridge.
“Yeah.” I took out the milk and guzzled it straight from the carton.
“Well?” Her purple eyes lit up. I loved that she honestly cared.
“That they were perfect.” I wiped my mouth with my arm before returning the milk to the fridge. “But now I need something else to keep me busy. I’m feeling claustrophobic.”
“He’ll give you another project soon.” Her face was a vision of sympathy and hopefulness. “And soon, this will all be over and you can go back to traveling the world.”
With Duffy out of the apartment, I had plenty of time to burn. I went downstairs and did some grocery shopping for that high-maintenance neighbor of ours and tried to ignore my traveling itch. The only way to scratch it was to board a plane and get the hell out of here. But I’d promised Duffy I’d be here to help her with the visa application. Responsibility sucked balls.
On my way back to the building, I stopped by a diner and grabbed Charlie some coffee and apple pie. Then I went up to check on the old man. I knocked on his door, feeling like a fucking sitcom character from the seventies. Neighborly visits didn’t exactly scream the rock star life. He didn’t answer.
It was possible he’d gone out somewhere.
... but it’s also possible he’s bit the dust.
Stifling a grunt, I rapped on his door again. “Charlie, it’s Riggs. Answer.”
Nothing. It wasn’t like Charlie, who usually fell all over himself when I visited like I was the pope or something. I punched the doorbell, growing both uneasy and pissy with myself for giving two shits about this whole thing.
“Open up, Charles, or I’m kicking this door down. Gotta keep the tradition alive.”
It seemed like half my time in this building was spent tearing doors down and then paying to put them back up. Was there an Olympic sport for that kind of thing?
When there was still no answer, I let go of the paper bags, took a step back, angled my shoulder, and smashed against it. The flimsy door flew open. I stepped over the brown bags I’d left on the floor earlier and waltzed inside. It had only been twelve hours since I’d last checked on him, and the place reeked.
Oh, fuck, if he died, I was going to be stuck here forever, answering police questions.
I looked around, relieved to see that the sulfur smell was coming from boiled eggs he’d left on the counter and not his decomposing body.
“Charlie?” I asked, moving around the apartment. It was bigger than Duffy’s but still small enough to cover in less than two minutes. “You sick fuck, who boils eggs and keeps them on the counter?”
I walked into his bedroom. Empty. I dashed to the bathroom and opened the door. Something hard and heavy pressed against it from the other side, making it difficult to open all the way.
Shit.
Carefully, I squeezed through the gap in the door before stepping over a ... what the hell was it? A leg. I glanced down. Charlie was lying on the floor, his eyes closed, his arms spread like he was making a snow angel. He looked young and old at the same time.
If he’d kicked the bucket, Duffy was going to be really sad. And to be honest, I would be too.
I crouched down and ran my fingers under his nose. His hot breath fanned over them, faint, but there. I let out a sigh of relief.
I fished out my cell phone and shook my head. “You’re lucky I’m calling an ambulance and not the police. I would’ve killed you twice over if you’d messed up my day like that.”
The next hour moved fast. Charlie was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. He was still unconscious, and the paramedics told me they weren’t authorized to give me any information about his health, since I wasn’t next of kin, but that I could visit him once he was in the books. They also said I “did the right thing.” Like there was anything else to do when you find your neighbor unconscious on the floor.
