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Picking up the lost property box, he roots around, then holds up a set of keys, amusement lifting his plump lips into a lopsided smile. He’s so beautiful. “I’d lose my head if it wasn’t screwed on.” He jerks his shoulder. “You here alone?” he adds, looking around the empty shop.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“It’s a public building. Technically, anyone can just come in,” I remind him defensively, a phantom weight sitting on my chest.
Taking a step toward me forces me to take a step back. Pain etches into his features. “Are you afraid of me?”
“I don’t know you.” I rush out, even though my mind screams, “Yes, you do.” The atmosphere thickens around us, stealing my composure.
“That’s not true, and I think you know that.” His words are said with such intensity and emotion, tears spring in my eyes. My heartbeat becomes erratic, making my head spin. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice a raspy tone that delights me in parts that haven’t been touched in a really long time. Is this normal? To feel such a quick connection with someone and fear them all in the same breath?
“I was just wondering why I haven’t seen you around before, and then suddenly, you’re everywhere I look.”
He appears taken aback by that statement and furrows his brow. “I haven’t lived here long. I actually came here for work.”
“Oh,” I breathe, feeling guilty for bringing it up and stupid for acting like a frigid, scared freak. Maybe it is purely coincidental.
A beeper signals the dryer has finished its cycle. He jumps forward to help me unload the clothes into my bag, and I redden when he pulls out a pair of my panties. It doesn’t affect him, or if it does, he doesn’t show it. He just attempts to fold them, and I turn eight shades of red. When the machine is empty, he picks up my bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you home.”
“No, it’s fine.” I drop my eyes to the ground, feeling stupid for not wanting to let him walk me home. No matter how much lustful madness is coursing through me, he’s still a stranger. Is he? I take the bag and half-heartedly wave goodbye, pushing out into the night air. Shivering, I sigh. It’s colder than it was earlier. I’m regretting my choice of clothes. This jacket is too thin for this weather. The door opens again behind me. “You sure you don’t want me to walk you? It’s not really safe to be walking around on your own.”
“I’m aware of that, but I’ll be fine, thank you.” I shake my head, knowing I’m being foolish, and begin the walk home with the moonlight for company.
My footfalls tap against the concrete, and I try to ignore the shadows seeping out from every alley and doorway. I should have taken him up on his offer, but what if something like what happened with Lee happens to him because of me? I can’t live with more blood on my hands. I’m not safe to be around. The darkness around me suddenly closes in. I feel exposed and vulnerable, and I hate Willis for making me afraid again. It took a long time to learn to breathe again after everything that happened. My aunt tried to lead me into the light, but she was as trapped in the darkness as I was. She lost Mom too.
Soft pellets of rain begin to patter down on me, and I cuss under my breath. Every movement sends my heart skittering when I start to think about the girl who was murdered and how much she resembled me, the figure watching us from our own apartment window when we went to check on the neighbor. I wonder if the cats are hungry, if they have enough to see them through until their owner comes home.
I detour from my route, hurrying toward a nearby shop, the florescent lights offering safety from the darkness outside. Counting my change, I cringe. Nearly two dollars. I find the cheap tuna on the back of a shelf and huddle to the checkout.
When I make it to the apartment building Lee will never return to, sickness churns my stomach. Asking Charlotte to come with me is a no go, so I guess it’s on me.
Trying the handle, my heart skips seeing the latch broken. Anyone can just walk right inside this building. Nerves jump around inside me like grasshoppers. What if her apartment door has been locked now? I reach Lee’s floor, my heart racing. What will the woman think when she comes home to learn Lee’s dead? My teeth sink into my bottom lip, piercing the skin and drawing blood when I see her door ajar. Is she home? Should I knock? Raising my hand, I go to rap my knuckles, but the door gives way, opening up. A silhouette stands there, a crooked brow frowning at me. “Lizzy?”
