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It sent me right back to the night I was at a party like this. It brought me back to the dumb glee I had experienced, partying it up with friends and living my best life. Thinking everything in the world was okay, that nothing could possibly go wrong when you were having this much fun.
That was all until someone had slipped something in my drink. In a matter of minutes, I had gone from completely coherent to a blubbering mess who couldn’t even stand. So I wasn’t able to storm off and curse all the fuckers out. Instead, I had to be carried out and taken straight to the hospital. Thankfully, Hazel was there with me and instantly realized something was wrong. If it wasn’t for her, I was sure that whatever monster drugged me would have taken advantage of me without batting an eyelash.
That was why I couldn’t see myself going to Rocky’s place and feeling comfortable enough to even do anything. It took me much longer to trust people after that night. Everyone I remembered talking to at the party seemed like they were fine, regular people. No one stood out as a date-rape kinda person, which, in the end, really taught me that people could wear so many different masks without ever revealing their true face.
Our apartment building stood on the corner of a quiet street. There was someone walking their two Chihuahuas up and down the patch of grass in front of the building, the bright pink leashes reflecting the headlights of a passing car. I noticed Hazel’s car was parked on a meter.
I took out my keys and unlocked the front door of the building. I wondered if Jesse was even home. As I climbed the stairs, avoiding the elevator that broke down way too much for my liking, I started feeling more and more nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea. My cheek still burned from where I’d gotten hit, and if Rocky didn’t intervene…
I pushed the heavy stairwell door open and stepped out into the hallway, onto the forest-green carpet and under the fluorescent white lights.
That’s when I heard it. A bloodcurdling scream. One that shot through me like a bullet, shredding me with its passing.
It was Hazel. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. I ran, my heart pounding painfully in my throat.
Her screams morphed into strangled cries. I fell into the apartment, the door having already been cracked open.
“Sam,” Hazel choked out. She stood in the living room, her hands raised, her palms covered in dark red blood. “Get help, Sam!”
10
Rocky Hudson
“But was she murdered by him, or by someone else? Was there ever a payphone by the Applebee’s? Will this ever be answered? Tune in to next week’s episode of Crime Hunters to find out. And don’t forget to use offer code DeadBody for fifteen percent off body pillows from this week’s fab sponsor.”
The podcast faded out. I didn’t even bother switching to another episode or changing to music; it wouldn’t have made a difference. No matter what was coming through my car’s speakers, all I could hear in my head was Sam’s voice.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Fucking hell. The entire drive home had me consumed with the idea of Sam and how he tasted, how he felt. The attraction went beyond primal. It felt almost instinctual. Like nothing else in the world made more sense than Sam and I getting together. There was no explaining it. I couldn’t think of anyone who had made me feel this way, and so quickly, too.
It meant I had to forget all about him. I’d figure out this case for Hazel, and I’d exorcise Sam out of my life. I’d light up sage or some shit. Whatever it took to get him to stop taking over my every thought.
I drove over one of the main bridges that connected Miami Beach to the rest of Florida. It was a tall, wide arch, and it was lit up with bright purple lights on either side, lights that would slowly change into blue, then green, then purple again. The other bridges were also lit in the same fashion, setting the tone for anyone entering the beach at night.
I lived in Coral Gables, a residential neighborhood that bordered the University of Miami. It was a neighborhood with money, that part was clear from the large homes and the fleet of expensive cars parked in the wide driveways. Lexus and Mercedes and BMWs. There were gated homes with massive front yards, and smaller homes with large backyards, while the streets were all lined with palm trees and manicured bushes.
My house was surrounded by a tall black gate which opened automatically as I pulled up. There were thick green vines growing through the gate, making an impenetrable wall of green so that passersby couldn’t get a glance at my property. I enjoyed privacy, and this home offered me that.
