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Heading back to my bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes and went straight to the bathroom for a hot shower. The girl I’d gone home with had taken a bath in her perfume, and I could feel it seeping into my skin, causing a headache that had nothing to do with what I’d drunk earlier.
Pressing my hands against the shower wall, I dropped my head and let the water pour over me as the tightened muscles in my body started relaxing. But as soon as I reached behind me for the shampoo, the water turned ice cold.
Hissed curses left me as I scrambled away from the spray, slipping in the process and barely catching myself on the edge of the tub before I could hit the bottom. I struggled to right myself and finally managed to grab the handle and shut off the water when my feet continued slipping out from beneath me.
Curses were still pouring free, and my chest was heaving exaggeratedly by the time I righted myself, but I stilled when I realized what else I was hearing. Because on the other side of the thin wall was the sound of running water and Maci’s distinct laughter.
Are you fucking kidding me?
I slapped my hand on the wall connecting our apartments and shouted, “You sure you want to play this game, sweetheart?”
More laughs came from her bathroom before she called out, “Hope you didn’t bust your ass too hard.”
“Turn the damn water off, Maci!”
“Enjoy your night,” she said in a singsong voice, leaving her shower running.
Payback is about to be one hell of a bitch, Maci Price.
MACI
After turning the water on in my shower, I waited a good five minutes before stepping in, afraid Connor would give me the same treatment I’d given him the night before. When I didn’t hear movement from his bathroom, I jumped in but stayed tense as I washed my hair and body, ready to get out at a moment’s notice if his water kicked on. When nothing had happened by the time I started shaving my legs, I relaxed and wondered what was going on with the guy next door.
Amber nailed it when she’d called him quiet and intense. Connor had always exuded this intensity that was somehow demanding and still managed to make you feel safe near him, which was probably why he’d been such a good police officer—and now detective. But Connor’s way of dealing with most things was silently.
The most I’d ever heard him talk was when he was with my brothers, but even then, he was still the quiet and mature one. Almost like he’d lived a dozen lifetimes before and was simply going through the motions of this one. Even with all that, he never would’ve let that prank last night go.
But the Connor I’d grown up with was nothing like the one hiding out next door for the last six months or so.
He was no longer quiet and intense...he was just gone. Physically and emotionally.
I used to see him on a near-daily basis when he’d come into my apartment to use my Keurig because he’d forgotten to start his coffee pot or was just coming in from a long investigation. But I could count on both hands how many times I’d seen him in the last six months, and last night had been the first time he’d said a word to me in all that time.
He’d always been discreet about his home life and shut down whenever anyone mentioned his older sister, Amy, but this was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him.
Shutting off the water, I tried to ignore the disappointment and worry as I stepped out of the shower and dried off. But as I wrapped the towel around my body and headed out to the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine, my mind continued racing with all that uneasiness for the frustrating man who’d had a steadfast grip on my heart for so long.
As soon as I rounded the corner into my living room, a scream ripped from my lungs, and I clutched the towel tighter to my chest as I tripped over myself from trying to back away too quickly. I landed with a thud on the hardwood floor and scrambled backward before eventually turning and crawling back into my hallway.
I covered my mouth to quiet my ragged breaths so the intruder couldn’t hear me. Not like he wouldn’t have heard my scream or seen me crawl away, but at the moment, none of that mattered. Quieting my breathing did. It made sense.
When I’d calmed enough to remove my hand, I risked a peek around the corner and released a terrified cry as I jerked back to hide from the demon in my living room.
All my worst nightmares are coming to life.
Do I scream for help? Call 9-1-1? Oh my God, my phone’s in my kitchen. Good God, get a freaking grip, Maci. It isn’t even real.
I slowly turned and eyed the offensive, life-sized blow-up toy standing in my living room and tried not to start crying when I saw the white face and red hair, nose, cheeks, and lips.
I hated clowns with a passion.
Forcing myself to stand and walk over to the object, I failed at calming my shaking arm as I reached for the note taped to its chest. When the tips of my fingers scraped against the material, a whimper left me, and I hurriedly ripped the paper away. But when I read the words waiting there, rage simmered through my veins and momentarily made me forget what was directly in front of me.
I was going to kill him. Like, honest to God, I was about to go down for murder.
Don’t forget, I still have a key to your apartment, Maci, and I’ve known you most of your life. I remember all your biggest fears.
This guy is for the shower. Have fun finding my payback for the headboard banging last night. I really do feel bad for the poor bastard who has to put up with that.
