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Yep. That’s it.
I’m not being followed.
First, I thought I saw someone outside my window the other day, and now I’m hearing phantom footsteps.
This isn’t a teen show on CW, Sasha.
No monsters are lurking in the corners, ready to end your life.
I groan, head falling back on my shoulders. “Pull yourself together.”
I’m losing my damn mind. I’ve been out of sorts for weeks, but even more so after the run-in with Gideon Byrne. He wasn’t what I expected at all. Not that I’d know what a drug lord looks like, but I didn’t anticipate refined and handsome beyond measure.
It’s not okay.
He’s an Adonis. A god amongst men. Too attractive for his own goodand mine.
His unruly brown hair makes me want to run my fingers through the strands, but his eyes, stormy blue and almost glacial, have me rendered useless.
He knocked me off guard.
I’m not even sure how I strung together words that made sense when I demanded he leave and hurled insults at him.
I also didn’t expect him to just take it like he did. Isn’t a drug lord supposed to be brutal? I’m sure other people have been cut down on the spot for saying less to him. So why did he take it from me?
You were at a funeral in a room full of people.
With a shake of the head, I continue toward my apartment, where, once again, the main door is not locked. Apparently, for the price I pay in rent, safety isn’t the landlord’s concern.
Normally, I’m not as bothered by this, but seeing as I just recently had a run-in with a drug lord…I’m concerned.
It’s that vile man and the thought of him that has me on edge.
Gideon Byrne is not worth it.
Pushing all thoughts out of my mind, I step inside, making my way to my home.
I should count myself lucky I even have a place and that it’s relatively clean and safe around here. It’s actually a steal, seeing as I’m in the city. I got lucky, as I sublet it from my boss. It’s yet another reason Lucinda doesn’t understand why I work so much.
The thing is, Lucinda doesn’t know about my dreams of Juilliard. Hell, she doesn’t even know I play the cello.
No one does, to be honest.
Roman knew.
But he’s gone.
My stomach sours as I walk through the hall, making my way to my door. I’m not sure if it’s from my wayward thoughts or the smell permeating the area. Someone must have left their garbage out, which I wish I could say wasn’t a typical occurrence. It is. People just don’t respect others.
Who knows, but I could throw up all the same.
The lights above flicker, making me blink.
Those have needed changing for some time, but I can’t be the one to say anything. Technically, I’m not supposed to be renting Lucinda’s apartment. It’s rent-controlled and not allowed to be sublet, per the landlord. It’s only worked out because I’m a good tenant that makes herself scarce and doesn’t cause any issues. However, it also means I have to suck it up and deal with the shit conditions that others impose on me.
I’m so focused on all the ways in which this building is falling apart that when I grab my key and push the door open, I almost miss the thumps of soft footsteps behind me.
My hand stills, and I can feel the tickle of breath on the back of my neck.
