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There is something about him when I soak in his eyes. It’s as if I can see into his soul and there is nothing there—it’s void—an endless sea of pain and depravity. But today I saw something else, and that something scares me.
I shiver, trying to will myself to stand up. The air conditioning turns on, and goosebumps prickle my skin. I take one last inhale and push to my feet. Kicking off my shoes, I decide to strip at the door, discarding my pants and shirt on the floor. Dropping my bag and mail off on the table, I head for the shower.
Letting the sputter of warm water wash over me is better than nothing. This place has always had truly horrible water pressure. All the requests I’ve put in to have it replaced or even quoted have gone unanswered. Since I’m barely paying the required rent as it is, I’m not trying to push my luck with my demand.
I wash my hair and scrub all the subway sweat and humidity off my body. Picking some fresh yoga pants and an oversized band t-shirt that hangs off my shoulders, I slide my wrinkled toes into some warm socks. I opt out of blow-drying and braid my damp hair into a single braid.
The dark, cloudy sky reminds me of nighttime but it’s only lunch. Digging in my fridge, I grab a jar of pickles and dump a can of tuna on some leftover lettuce. I sit down at the table to sift through my mail, most of which is bills.
I play a game every month—which bills win the lottery to be paid. Rent is clearly first. Thank goodness water and electricity are included. My parking fee for my vehicle is expensive, but I needed my car when I was volunteering at the vet clinic and visiting my mom. My cell phone, groceries, and miscellaneous things that come up such as gas, doctors, and hair appointments are always a toss-up.
Taking a bite of my tuna lettuce wrap, I sort through the bills and freeze. Large blue letters in the top left-hand corner say Lake Mead Hospital: Emergency Department.
Oh god.
I paid my copay when I went to the hospital that night, and I have some insurance, but I thought it was all taken care of. I snatch the envelope off the table and rip it open.
No, no, no.
Scanning my eyes down the letter, I see the words ‘your insurance didn’t cover’and‘please pay the following amount by October 15th.’
$2,000. That was the amount my insurance didn’t cover for the emergency room visit that I definitely didn’t need for a sprain. I shouldn’t have gone. But in the moment, with the police officer encouraging me to get checked out and the near-death experience I went through, my judgment was obviously impaired.
I notice a number on the bill and set to call them to see what I can do. I don’t have $2,000 for an unplanned medical expense. I put pennies—literally pennies—into my university fund jar. I could put it on a credit card, but then I’d have to pay interest when I don’t pay it off.
Glaring at my phone, I seize it and dial the number.
Chapter12
Luka
Iknew instantly that putting cameras in Kate’s apartment was a bad idea. I sat there, glued to the live footage of her head in her hands, sitting at the table, crying. She is sobbing, and I’m watching her like a juvenile idiot.
When we pulled away from her on the street earlier that day, I wanted to hurry home to see her make it back to her apartment. Seeing Kate on the street drenched in rain—
I drag my hand down my face. My thoughts should not be on this woman. Should I have offered her a ride home? If I were anyone else, maybe, but I don’t want her near me. I already can’t get those sparkling blue eyes out of my mind. It’s an infection I can’t cure.
I don’t know this woman. I still have my suspicions about her but seeing her and the fear in her eyes when she took in both black SUVs—I wonder if she was transported back to that night. She resembled a drowned rat, but that didn’t stop my treacherous gaze from roving over her curled lips.
Now she is crying in that tiny apartment, and there is a flicker of something in my stomach. I have an overwhelming desire to know what has made her cry.
Damn it.
This is ridiculous, but I pick up my phone, anyway.
“Nikolai.”
“Yes, Boss,” he answers with a mouth full of food.Oh for goodness’ sake.
“I need audio on the cameras in Kate’s apartment.” I’m losing it, I know I’m losing it, and I don’t even know how to control myself. Nik coughs and takes a swig of something.
“We can’t, Boss. The equipment installed is strictly visual. We don’t have audio,” he says.
I bring my hand to rub at my forehead, wondering who needs a beating for doing a half-ass job. I don’t bother with a goodbye and hang up my phone.
Reaching for my mouse, I rewind back to the cause of her crying. A double click has me magnifying all the papers sprawled out around her. I squint toward the one she is holding while on the phone. I’m stunned when I read the name—Lake Mead Hospital. The exact name of the hospital that I was taken to the night of the shooting.
Normally, we control which hospital we go to in order to keep things within our circle, but that evening, my men panicked with me being shot and unresponsive. I was able to get a private wing and pay multiple policemen, nurses, and doctors for their silence. Paid or threatened, probably a bit of both.Was she in the hospital too?She must have been there at some point if she received a bill from them.
