“Gotcha!” My voice booms through the stairwell as I step out from the doorway.
A few steps above me, Mandy screams like she’s about to be murdered, clutching the dog to her chest, eyes wide with panic.
“Mandy, what the hell?”
“No, that’s my line.” The words come out in choked gasps. “What the hell is wrong with you, Salinger?”
“I knew it.” Stepping up in front of her, I take in her shapeless clothes, the makeup smudged around her eyes, and the panting dog. The whites of the corgi’s large eyes make it look crazy. “I know you’re just trying to fuck with me. I’m onto your little games. Grow up, Mandy.”
“I was working.” Her voice catches at the end.
I step onto the first step of the run of stairs, putting her head a few inches above mine.
Perfect kissing height.
Not that I would ever.
“You were just trying to fuck with me—you were just waiting until I left.”
“No, I wasn’t.” But the words aren’t defiant. Instead, they’re small, plaintive.
She’s on the defensive. I should go for the kill.
But she just seems so… frightened. Her big brown eyes are swimming with tears.
What’s wrong?I almost ask. Almost.
Instead, I leave it, turning my body so she can scurry past me.
It is unlike me to let her just walk away, but I don’t do it because I feel at all protective of her. I just don’t think it’s sporting to kick her while she’s down.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. “Don’t use this as an excuse to be late.”
5
MANDY
Someone is in my apartment.
And, no, I’m not hallucinating from lack of food and sleep plus too much office coffee, which—I don’t care what Salinger says—is no match for a Starbucks Frappuccino.
The door to my tiny studio apartment is only open a crack, but that’s enough to indicate someone is there, someone is waiting for me. The very air is disturbed.
I pray he didn’t notice me opening the door. The panic rises. I’m frozen rooted there in front of the door.
Though I was absolutely exhausted, I hadn’t wanted to leave work until Salinger did, sure that Jaxon was out in the parking deck waiting for me.
But it didn’t matter, because Jaxon is here. In my apartment.
Is he going to hurt me? Kidnap me?
Run. Run!
But my feet won’t move. I’m just so tired…
Footsteps sound across the cracked linoleum floor.
The door handle flies out of my grasp.
