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“Okay, thank you.” I withdraw the cash from my wallet. I know I’m supposed to tip him… I just don’t know how much. And I don’t want to be rude either, so I grab another ten before handing over the money.
“I’ll get your bags for you.”
“Thanks.” Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I look up.
So, this is it...The area is nice, not overly busy, with just a few people walking the tree-lined streets. The driver approaches with my suitcase. I glance towards the stairs, trying to figure out how I’m going to navigate my way up those ten steps. And before I can even consider looking to the driver for help, he jumps back in the car and speeds off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk still staring up at the brick building that is now my home.Right, no time like the present.I grab the handle of my suitcase and struggle to lift it onto the first step. Nine to go.
It takes about ten minutes, but I’ve finally managed to get to the landing, although my suitcase looks like it’s seen better days. I find the button for apartment five and press it. I don’t have to wait long before a male voice comes across the speaker.
“Hello.”
“Ah, hi. It’s Holly.” What am I meant to say?Let me in?
“Hi, babe, just push on the door when you hear the buzzer. Hit the elevator for the second floor,” he says, his tone as bored as batshit.
Babe? Really?I feel the urge to correct him.My name is Holly, not babe.But I don’t. Instead, I shuffle my way inside, thanking the gods there’s a lift in sight—and that I don’t have to navigate up another set of stairs.
What I’m not prepared for is to have someone waiting right there, as the lift opens to the second floor. I take a step back before straightening my spine and marching out of the confined space.
“Holly, I’m Greg, your new landlord. Nice to meet you.” The guy standing in front of me is wearing a well-fitted suit. Okay, so maybe my first impression (you know, that this guy’s a total douchebag) was a little off. I hold out my free hand to shake his.
“Hi, thanks for showing me around. It’s great to meet you too.” I smile politely and try my best not to recoil when he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it before letting go.
“My pleasure. Boy, that accent. You are going to be a hot little commodity around here.” He smirks, looking me up and down.
And just like that, I retract my prior statement: this guyisa douchebag… of epic proportions.
“I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but I’m a little jet-lagged. And honestly, buggered. I just want to get settled in and sleep for the next week.”
“Right, of course. Sorry… follow me.”
My stomach twists at the thought of being alone with him in that apartment. I don’t really have a choice though. My mind goes back over all the self-defense steps Bray insisted on teaching me when he discovered my future plans.
I watch as Greg disengages the deadbolt on the door, grateful there is a decent-looking lock on the place. He steps over the threshold and holds the door open for me. I have to squeeze past him to enter, but I manage to do it without brushing up against him.Thankfully.
He’s a good-looking guy, in a boy-next-door kind of way. Sandy-blonde hair, blue eyes, and dimples. He has the appearance of that typical American male you see in movies. Yet, there is just something a little…off…about him. The way he’s leering at me makes my skin prickle and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end—like the first victim in a horror film. The one everyone is screaming at tohurry up and run.
I need to get this over with (and getthisman out ofthisapartment) as quickly as I can. Turning, I hold out my hand. “Thank you again… for meeting me here,” I say, waiting for him to relinquish the keys he’s holding.
He looks down at my open palm, then back up to my eyes. “Sure, no problem. Want me to give you the tour?” he asks, still clutching the cold metal in his fist.
I look behind me. It’s a small open-plan living room.Small is an understatement.There’s a tiny kitchenette, and I can see two doors down the narrow hallway from where I’m standing. I think I just had the tour. “Ah, no, it’s fine. I’m pretty sure I’ve got it,” I say, turning back to him, my open palm screaming the words I don’t.Hand ‘em over and get out!
“Right, here you go. Rent’s due on the first of each month.” He reluctantly surrenders the keys and pivots on his heel. I shut the door and lock it as soon as he’s past the threshold. Leaning against the frame, I drop to the ground and let the tears—the ones I’ve been holding back since the airport—fall freely this time.
What the hell have I done? Why did I think I could do this? It doesn’t matter how far I move, or how much I change my life, I’m always going to be the same old Holly. Quiet Holly, who blindly follows her twin sister around. Shy Holly, who would rather be sitting at home reading a book, than actually talking to people. Scared Holly, who (ever since Bray’s shooting) has been afraid of her own bloody shadow.
I swipe angrily at the tears.I can do this.I need to do this. Standing, I drag my suitcase down the hall before opening the first door I see: a small bathroom. I head for the next door, which is the bedroom. Kicking my shoes off, I flop down on the empty mattress. I’ll get up soon and grab some linens.
ChapterTwo
The incessant ringing breaks through my sleep-fogged brain. I reach out an arm, trying to swipe my phone off the bedside table, but end up with a handful of air. I bolt upright, scanning my surroundings. It’s dark, with the only glow of light coming from the floor where my phone’s illuminated screen is lying in wait.
The ringing stops before it starts back up again straight away. I breathe a sigh of relief once recognition settles in. It’s okay. I’m in my own apartment. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. I jump off the bed, pick up the phone, and realize it’s two a.m. I must have been really jet-lagged. I never intended to actually sleep when I went to lie down.
“Reilly, it’s two in the morning. Why are you calling me?” I answer.
“Well, thank God. Bray, it’s okay. She’s alive!” Reilly yells out, not bothering to move her mouth away from the phone and deafening me in the process.
