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“Don’t give me that. Thankfully, I left a key here or else I’d be stuck. God knows how long it would take to track down the building manager. She’s rarely available.”
Brandon only pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales deeply before speaking. “I can’t believe this. Next time, just leave the key in the door. Why even make the stalker work for it?”
“Whatever, my brilliant mind saved our asses this morning,” I say, twisting the key with Brandon right behind me.
“I’ll go in first,” he says, moving me to the side.
The door opens, and Brandon steps in first, hand on his hip again, and quickly sweeps the living area and kitchen.
Everything looks the way I left it just over a week prior before heading to Metro North to see my family for Christmas.
“Everything look alright?” Brandon asks.
Before I can answer, a crash comes from the bedroom, followed by a muttered curse. Brandon extracts his gun and runs toward the sound of the voice.
“Stay put, Ava,” Brandon says, moving to my bedroom.
I can’t just stand in the doorway, so I follow him to the hallway separating my bedroom and bathroom. My heart is beating triple time as I watch Brandon move slowly into my bedroom, the carpet muting his steps. His eyes widen and he raises the gun higher, chest level, making me realize in a matter of seconds that he may kill or seriously injure someone.
“Put your fucking hands up!” Brandon shouts.
“Oh, my God!” the feminine voice cries. “This is my friend’s home. She gave me a key.”
At the sound of the familiar voice, I rush into the room and spot my friend Sierra with trembling hands up by her shoulders, her eyes closed like she is bracing for impact.
“Brandon, it’s okay. This is Sierra, and she’s right. I made her a key a few weeks ago,” I say.
When I made Sierra a key, it was in case she needed to pop by and grab some things for me while I was out promoting Wellseasonedand wouldn’t be able to return to this side of town. Never in a million years did I think my friend’s life would almost end because I gave her a key.
Brandon lowers his weapon back into his side holster, his gaze moving between the two of us.
“This could have ended very badly,” Brandon says between clenched teeth. “I’m going to need a list of who else has access to this apartment.”
I nod, knowing it’s pointless to try arguing with Brandon.
He moves out of the bedroom and stops in the doorway. “I’m going to take a look around. Complete a security sweep of the apartment.”
Sierra and I are silent for a beat as his retreating figure leaves the doorway.
“So that’s the infamous Brandon,” she says, breaking the silence. “He’s…friendly.”
“Girl, you won’t believe what I’ve dealt with in the past few hours and all with him by my side.”
“I saw Asher and Madison’s stories, and I kept trying to call, DM, text. No replies. Nothing! Where is your phone?”
I sit down on the edge of the bed, unzipping the hooded jacket Brandon gave me. The heat kicked on in the apartment, making the garment unbearable. “My phone is somewhere among the melee of broken glass from the party.”
Sierra leans against a dresser, pushing her waist-length box braids over her shoulder. “Asher posted that everyone is okay.”
“Thankfully, no one seems to be badly hurt,” I say. “Cut my foot on some glass, but it’s much better today.”
Sierra gives me a once over. “What are you wearing?”
I wince as nothing matches properly, but in desperate times, I took what Bree was thankfully able to provide. “One of the protection agents Brandon employs brought clothes for me. I had to run out of the party. Scared for my life,” I say, head in my hands. Just thinking about the ordeal, it seems improbable I survived all of that.
“Having a gun pointed at you is pretty terrifying, so if its anything like that, I understand,” Sierra responds.
I wince at her words. “Sorry about that. We’ve just been through a lot, and he went into defense mode. What were you doing here anyway?”
