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A loud POP rockets through my brain and makes my heart nearly leap out of my chest. The fleeing man falls forward as a ringing hits my ears. He slams into the ground face-first, making no effort to break his fall.
That’s when I see a small coin-sized hole in the back of his head spurting out blood.
I gasp as I turn back to the man who pulled the trigger.
Two more guys rush out and run past Crenshaw. One has a large Ziplock bag in his hand.
I feel like I’ve stepped out of my body as I watch them run up to the dead man and wrap the plastic bag around his head. It fills with blood immediately.
“Grab his legs,” one of them barks at the other.
They drag him back down the hallway and disappear into the apartment. It’s over as quickly as it started. There’s barely a drop of blood on the ground.
A girl joins Crenshaw in the hallway. She’s about my age with tight shredded-up jeans and a black shirt. She reeks of trauma and bad decisions.
I suck in a sharp breath when I realize they’re both looking at me.
Crenshaw is terrifying. I was warned about staying away from him from a nice older lady in the apartment building when I moved in and now I can see why.
Those cold heartless eyes are locked on me. He’s a psychopath. A killer. My body vibrates with alarm bells as our eyes meet.
An overwhelming sense of dread hits me like I’m a baby deer who’s suddenly been spotted by a large hungry wolf.
But some things in the world are worse than wolves, and Crenshaw is one of them. He’s a demon in human flesh.
He takes off his sunglasses and holds them over his shoulder. His girlfriend takes them without a word and he starts stalking toward me.
Oh shit!
My heart races and my mouth goes bone dry as I whip around and fumble with my key. He starts running toward me as I finally shove it into the door, yank it to the side, and turn the handle. I dart inside, slam the door closed, and lock it just as he arrives.
The banging starts immediately.
“Open up!” he hollers in a deep voice that makes the tiny hairs on my arms rise. “Open the fucking door!”
“No, thank you!” I shout back.
The banging gets louder. Harder.
He’s kicking the door down!
I clutch my purse and run through my tiny apartment to the back door. I unlock it, whip it open, and race onto my balcony. My building has those old-fashioned metal fire escapes and I immediately start running down them. I was worried that these would be horrible for security when I moved in, but I’m relieved that I have them now.
I pass some thugs hanging out on their balconies on the way down, but I just keep running past them, even as they holler after me.
My heart is racing and my lungs are on fire when I finally get to the second floor. The ladder is pulled up and I have to jump down a few feet, but I land on the concrete without hurting myself.
I’m dizzy with fear and my heart is thrashing in my ears when I look up at the seventh floor.
Crenshaw bursts onto my balcony and looks right at me.
Our eyes meet over the vast distance. His narrow. Mine widen.
“Stay right there!” he shouts in a gravelly voice.
He turns around and sprints back into my apartment.
Yeah, fuuuuccck that!
I squeeze my keys in my hand and run as fast as I can to my car. It’s on the other side of the building, but it’s still much closer than the distance Crenshaw has to go.
“Please, please, please, please,” I whisper over and over as I run to it. Sometimes it can take a while to get it started. I’m really hoping this is not one of those times.
I unlock the door, hop in, and turn the key in the ignition as I stare at the front door, expecting the devil to burst out at any moment. The engine starts on the first try and I peel out of the parking lot as fast as I can.
I spot Crenshaw exploding out of the building as I pull onto the street, but I hit the gas and disappear into the guts of the city before he can get to his car and follow me.
When I’m far enough across town that I’m sure he’s not on my tail, I pull over and struggle to get my breathing and heart rate under control. It takes a while, but I finally settle down.
The hopeless reality of my situation hits me hard and I drop my head onto the steering wheel, wanting to cry.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
He’s probably ransacking my apartment. He’s probably sitting on my couch, waiting for me to return. I’m so fucked.
