Page 100 of His Wicked Revenge

Rushing into the lobby, I see nothing out of the ordinary. I don’t bother taking the elevator because it will be too slow.

Shoving the doors to the stairs open, I climb them two at a time, praying that this doesn’t have to do with Veronica.

When I finally reach my floor, I stumble into the hall, almost losing my footing, to find officers surrounding my door. As I approach them, I can see it isn’t my door they are surrounding, but Veronica.

Her eyes are red from crying, her body is shivering, and there is blood on her clothes.

CHAPTER 37

Veronica

An hour earlier

I need to be quick if I’m going to do this. With the knife clutched in my hand, I open Leo’s apartment door and poke my head out.

It’s late, and there is no sign of anyone roaming the halls. Shutting the door softly behind me, I sneak into my apartment for my trusty Bobby Pins. I also changed out of Leo’s clothes because I don’t want blood on his stuff if this goes wrong.

When the pins are secured, and I’m changed into a tank top and a pair of my own sweatpants, I go down the hall and stop once I’m standing outside Aiden’s apartment. The only reason I know which one is his is that once, when he tried to invite me back, to which I declined, he told me the apartment number in case I changed my mind.

I’d forgotten about it. Tucked the number away in the back of my mind, not realizing that I would ever need it again. But here I am. Plucking it from its hiding spot to plant a weapon in his place.

Before I kneel on the floor to pick his lock, something in my mind tells me to turn the door handle. When I wrap my gloved hand around it, I find it unlocked. It’s not surprising, I guess. With our neighbors, there would be no reason for him to worry about anyone breaking in.

How foolish of him.

Opening his door, I enter to a mess. There are food wrappers all over his counters. Beer bottles and Coke cans sit on the island right by the trashcan.

Seriously? How hard would it be to throw that shit away?

Pushing my annoyance to the side, I step into his apartment further, searching for somewhere to place the knife. I could hide it in his closet. Or maybe somewhere in his bathroom.

Standing in the center of his bedroom now, a shiver of disgust rolls through me. He has dirty clothes everywhere. For someone who has a well-kept appearance, his apartment is one of a pig’s.

There is a bedside table where I decide to stash the knife, but when I am about to open the drawer, a deep voice sounds from behind me.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

My eyes lift to the wall, and I clutch the knife tightly. Straightening my back, I spin around on my feet to see Aiden standing in the doorway.

His eyes drop from mine to the knife that’s clutched at my side. “That looks familiar.”

“It should,” I state. It’s the same one I threatened him with.

“Except the last time I saw it; there was no blood on it.” He takes a step into the room. “Did you use it on that guy I met in the elevator?”

Leo.

I don’t bother answering him. Instead, I remain quiet and stand with confidence, my body built like stone. He cocks his head to the side, a deranged smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes roll down my body.

“Didn’t know you were into the freaky stuff.” His words are slurred, and when the next step he takes turns into a stumble, I know he’s drunk.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I can tell.” He gestures to the knife. “Did you come here with that for some fun? That little bitch not doing it enough for you that you need a real man to finish the job?”

“Cute that you think you’re more of a man than him.”

“Let me show you,” he slurs again, almost falling forward with his next step. Aiden’s hand flies out and presses against the mattress to save himself.