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So I had to do something with the damn stuff.
Exhaling hard, I went into my kitchen, finding the disposable gloves I used to clean with and slipped them on before grabbing a garbage bag out of an unopened box, and piling in the drugs, since I’d already touched the box, so that had to be gotten rid of. I folded it up, then made my way out of my apartment, stopping to dispose of the box where it would meet all the other recycling waste from all the other apartment tenants, and then headed out the front door.
My heart was hammering in my chest. Because, whether the drugs were mine or not, they were in my possession. If I was caught with them, it was my prison time.
I always thought I’d been a hyper-vigilant woman. I mean, you had to be. Predators could be behind a random tree for all you knew.
But I had never been so aware of my surroundings as I was right then. I mean, I could hear the grass blades moving, I swear to God.
Which was why when a man appeared out of nowhere, I damn near leapt out of my skin.
“Jesus Christ. Make some noise or something,” I hissed, angry at having been startled.
He shifted a bit, turning to face me fully.
There was a small spark of familiarity that I brushed quickly away because I was pretty sure I’d remember a guy who was that hot, especially in our town full of revolving faces. There weren’t many strange, gorgeous, faces to be found.
He was tall and strong with black hair and bright blue eyes. All angles from his sharp jaw that had a slight cleft to his nice cheekbones and stern brow.
Hot.
The man was hot.
And because that was immediately my first thought, my second thought was that he had to be bad news.
Because I only ever found bad news guys hot.
Was he the one who’d dropped the drugs.
I mean, I was no expert on heritage or anything, but he looked like he could have been maybe Bulgarian. Czar was hot in a somewhat similar way.
But after years of hiding in the shadows, why would he suddenly let me see his face?
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, gaze moving over me. Was there a hint of heat in his eyes? Maybe. But the look didn’t feel penetrative in a sexual way, if that made any sense. It was like he was trying to seeintome.
“Then maybe don’t sneak up on women, you creep,” I snapped, lifting my chin and stalking past him, trying not to show any of the anxiety that was moving through me.
“You taking a walk?” he asked when I didn’t go in the direction of the parking lot.
“What? Are you the hall monitor? Mind your business.”
“Lots of mean people could be out there,” he called.
“Yeah, and I’m one of them,” I shot back, glowering at him over my shoulder, then turning and continuing to walk.
I checked several times to make sure he wasn’t following, and that he wasn’t even watching, before I made my way around the back of the second apartment building and toward one of the two storage sheds that were situated there.
I felt like I was on full display with there being nothing to hide me from view as I walked up to the sheds.
Then again, I wouldn’t be the first or last person to go in them, borrowing something, or tossing something that they didn’t know what else to do with.
They didn’t even keep them locked since all that was stored inside was rakes, shovels, pesticides, and old, busted pieces of lawn equipment.
It seemed like the doors screamed, loud and metallic, as I slid them open just wide enough to slip inside.
Using the flashlight on my phone since I hadn’t opened the doors wide enough to let in much light, I maneuvered around the cluttered, spider-infested space until I found a hiding spot that seemed good enough.
There were about half a dozen old, cracked, terra cotta pots in the back.
