AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Janet stared wide-eyed at me. “Do you really think anthrax is sweet?”
“No. I’m not a poison expert, but whatever he got, it’s probably powdered sugar.”
“No matter what it is, he’s an idiot for eating it.” Janet shook her head. “Who eats mail powder?”
“Maxim, apparently.” I stuck my stack of bills in my bag, gave Janet a wave, and headed out the front door of the building feeling a little lighter.
I circled around to the alley and used my rope ladder to return to my apartment. Given my latest interaction with Maxim, and the fact that I’d actually paid my rent, the whole ladder and security bar on the window were probably overkill. The thumbtacks on the floor definitely were. I’d stepped on oneof them the other day, and that sucked pretty hard. So, I cleaned those up.
I moved my sofa away from the door and back across the room to where it belonged. I left the window bar and fire ladder in place, because it really was a fire hazard to not have a ladder there. The multiple locks I’d installed on the door would be enough to keep Maxim from sneaking in again. Plus, he had his own problems to keep him occupied.
It felt good getting my apartment back in order. And then I spotted Gabriel’s jacket folded nice and neat on top of my dresser. I should give it back.
Later.
I had enough to carry with me this time, even if most of that baggage was psychological.
I left through the door for the first time in forever and took Morgan’s car, which she was still letting me borrow until she needed it tomorrow morning.
On my drive to Gabriel’s place, I couldn’t help but replay our last interactions in my head—primarily me throwing myself on the ground. I’d always been confident with men. I’d never ducked out of any kind of confrontation out of fear.So what happened?
It was the weirdness. It had to be.
Things between me and Gabriel didn’t fit safely into any one box. I kinda hated him, but I also kinda wanted to kiss him. I never wanted to see him again, but also if I didn’t see him every single day, then my words dried up and writer’s block smashed me into the ground like a giant foot dropping down from the sky and relentlessly bashing me until I was flattened into a piece of blank, wordless paper.
Why did being near him have to feel so complicated?
Why was our first time alone together so…ugh, I didn’t even know. There was no reason I shouldn’t have been able to just take the pictures, act like a normal human, and then leave.
Except I had taken some pictures.
And I’d told him they were unusable.
That was a partial truth. Some of the photos—the ones where I made him lie down on the bench—were terrible. He looked so stiff that it was like he’d never lounged before and didn’t know how.
But then there were the ones when I fell.
The photos of him leaning over me were filled with emotion. The look on his face was too…I didn’t know. Something. They felt intimate, too private to share with the world. So I was keeping them to myself. I should have deleted them, but I hadn’t. There was no good reason not to, either. I just didn’t do it.
Maybe I’d delete them later.
Before I knew it, I arrived at Gabriel’s big-walled neighborhood. The guy at the gate greeted me and let me in without question, as if I actually belonged here.
I drove through the artificially bright streets, past all the fancy mansions that looked exactly the same. Then came the dark, curving path that led to Gabriel’s place. Nervousness prickled my skin and made my chest tight.
As the cement cube came into view, I decided it wasn’t really like a prison at all. It wasn’t depressing. It was simply unpretentious and uninterested in appealing to traditional standards. How could a man who valued beauty so little be expected to prioritize beauty in his home? He couldn’t.
Gabriel Stryker had evolved beyond desire or the need to appreciate the world around him. At least, he didn’t appreciate it in the same way the rest of us did. I wasn’t sure if that made him better than the rest of us, or a little sad.
As I parked, I spotted a man standing under the porch light.
He was totally rocking a black jacket, plus a simple t-shirt and jeans, like each piece was custom made to show off his form—all broad shoulders and strong arms.
That hottie was Gabriel, and he was walking this way. Somehow his confident stride made him appear less stuck up now that he wasn’t wearing a suit. It made him look more like a rockstar.Jerks can wear jeans, too,my brain reminded my ovaries. I bet plenty of rockstars were jerks.
I rolled down the window. “Someone nailed the assignment.”
“What assignment?”
