I blink at him. “And here I thought you were into him just a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, he has nice hair and all those muscles. But nah, I can’t do werewolves, no offense.”
I tilt my head. “None taken.” I get it, and it makes me breathe easier knowing Sam is not really into a probably-sociopathic werewolf. Because if he were, I don’t think anything could have stopped him from going after him, just like he’s relentlessly extracting information from Adrian’sreluctant computer.
“Done,” he says after a second. He unhooks a device from one of the computer holes, whatever they’re called.
We walk out carefully, and I close the office door behind me. “There’s nothing in the other bedroom either. It’s empty, in fact. We can do a quick walk-through of the basement, then leave.”
Sam follows silently behind me. When I’m almost at the stairs, Sam bodily pulls me back. “Look,” he whispers in my ear, shoving his phone under my nose.
I watch as a car parks in the driveway we just came through, and a man in a dark tuxedo gets out. “Shit.”
I pocket Sam’s phone, who isn’t moving anymore, and look for a place to hide away far enough that a werewolf can’t detect our scent and heartbeat. In short, we’re fucked.
Then I notice a scent dispenser near the couch. I rush to it, detaching the bottle of perfume from the dispenser. I pour half of it on me and the rest on Sam, who stands frozen in the middle of the living room.
I pull him behind the couch opposite the door, and we duck just as it beeps open. Adrian sneezes as soon as he gets inside.
“Yes, I’m fine, Mom. Just a sneeze,” Adrian says into his phone.
Then a loud gunshot fills the eerie silence of the room. My hand flies to my gun, ready to shoot before he can spot Sam. “Sorry, sorry. I left the volume up on the television.” The volume goes down, but I can still hear the cliché suspense music playing. He changes it, and a really annoying rock song fills the room. I take a breath of relief. The music is loud enough to drown out the sound of our heartbeats.
I clip my gun in my hand. I’m not letting anything happen to Sam. We’d talk about it already. If only one of us makes it out of here, they’ll run without looking back. I knew I would do everything I could to make sure it was him, even when I was making him promise that. I just hope he doesn’t freeze up again.
The couch groans, making us flinch as Adrian flops his considerable bulk on it. “Yes, I’m listening to you. I’m not watching anything.”
“No, I told you I got bored. They were talking shit about the boss. That's all they do,” he complains.
“Sorry, I won’t swear again,” he sighs.
“Yes, everything is great. You were telling me about your ladies’ choir.”
Then there’s a long silence only broken by occasional “yeah”s and “ah-huh”s.
The couch groans again, and I spot Adrian’s ‘beautiful’ hair. I hold my breath as he circles the table and begins pacing in front of the television. I can still see his head from under my hiding spot. If he turns to the right angle, he can easily spot us.
Sam has his head tucked between his knees, as if pretending not to see it will make it disappear.
This was such a horrible idea. I can almost imagine Nicholas’s disappointed face when Sam tells him about what we did. Will he even feel bad for me? Miss me? Maybe he’ll just be relieved since I’ll have to break the only promise I made to him to get Sam out of here safely.
“No, Mom. I told you I’m not looking for him. Why would I? You’re a handful enough for more than two parents, easy.”
He laughs. It sounds light and free.
I let the words settle over me. Was he talking about Raymond? Has to be. So, he didn’t lie. He really doesn’t know him. Or maybe he’s lying to his mother. Ugh, we need to get out of here safely. I can flip his words from every direction to make sense of them later.
“Yeah, I’ll take a shower, then straight to bed it is.”
“What else will I do? C’mon, Mom. Go to bed. It’s late.”
“I will.”
“Yes, good night.”
Then his footsteps fade at the first door, while the music fills the entire apartment. Nicholas had once told me he likes to have a show playing in the background most of the timewhen he’s home because it helps drown out the noises from outside. This must be the instrumental version of Nicholas’s sitcoms.
When there’s no movement for five minutes, I sneak a look from my hiding spot. The television is playing a music video with a sweaty band passionately playing their instruments.
