I slidmy key into my apartment door, but as I turned it, there was no pressure from the lock.
“Cheyenne?” I called out as I walked inside.
Silence greeted me.
Taking my keys out of the door, I tossed them on the table. “Cheyenne?”
Again, nobody answered.
Chills skated down my spine as I slowly crept into the living room, my eyes roaming over every inch of the apartment. Nothing seemed to be out of place, but I couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right.
Cheyenne and I never forgot to lock the doors when we left, or even when we were home. After several break-ins last year in the area, it freaked us out to the point that we religiously checked our locks.
But right now, I didn’t dare lock myself in the apartment, not when someone could be inside.
Tugging my phone out of my back pocket, I dialed Cheyenne’s number.
“If you’re calling to tell me you won’t be home again tonight, there’s no need. I already planned everything out with Liam.”
“Cheyenne,” I whispered, not daring to raise my voice. “Did you lock the door when you left?”
“Of course I did. Why?”
“Because it was open.”
“Oh, shit. Are you still there?”
“I haven’t looked in our rooms yet,” I hissed as I made my way toward the back.
“Well, don’t go now! Are you insane?”
I was insane because I kept moving forward. But not a single thing was out of place. “It’s probably nothing. Maybe the lock didn’t catch.”
“Bailey, just get out of there.”
With every step I took, my heart pounded a little louder, but I didn’t dare turn back. I wasn’t chicken, and I wasn’t about to let someone scare me out of my own apartment.
Slowly, I pushed the door to Cheyenne’s bedroom open. A slightcreak had me wincing, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t just hide outside like a scaredy pants.
“It looks like your room is fine,” I whispered.
“Even my dresses? What about my cowboy boots?”
“I’ll check.”
“No! Wait!” I heard her hiss under her breath. “No, it’s not worth your life.”
Chuckling, I entered the room. “Are you sure about that?”
“I want to say no, but I also need to see that my boots are fine. However, if you open that closet and an axe murderer jumps out and slices you into ribbons, Liam will never forgive me.”
I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, determined to go through with this. I would not chicken out now. My shaking fingers slid over the handle, gripping as tightly as I could before I yanked the door open in a big whoosh that scared the crap out of me, even though I knew it was coming.
Nothing happened.
Her dresses hung perfectly in her closet and the decorative colors of boots lined her closet floor. Not a thing was out of place.
“Well?” she screeched. “Are they okay? I mean, are you okay? But are they okay?”
