Well, it wasn’tabsolutelyfine, but it could be worse.
Ethan: Good. Get some rest, Maggie.
Maggie: You too.
She dropped her cell to the couch, one thing on her mind—a shower. A long, hot, steaming shower to wash away the smoke and everything else the evening had brought.
In the bathroom, she stripped off and stepped under the stream of warm water, a hum slipping from her lips. There was something about a shower after a shitty day that was always so good. She closed her eyes and tipped her face up, letting the water run down her chest.
She reached for her bodywash, only to stop.
It wasn’t there.
She frowned and scanned the floor of the shower, in case she’d left it there. She hadn’t. She checked the counter outside the cubicle. It wasn’t anywhere.
Her warm skin suddenly chilled, a knot forming in her belly.
It had been there this morning, on the ledge designed to hold it. Had Polly taken it? No. She’d said she wouldn’t come into her apartment without her.
So where was it?
A sick feeling began to churn in her belly, but she shoved it down.
Because it wasn’t happening again. Itcouldn’tbe. How would they have even gotten in? The door to the apartment had been locked and nothing was broken.
But that was exactly how it had been in LA too.
Quickly, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Once it was wrapped tightly around her body, she grabbed her toothbrush, but when she reached for her toothpaste, she froze a second time.
Like her bodywash, it was gone.
What the hell?
The creaking of a floorboard outside the bathroom had Maggie gasping and spinning. Was someone in her apartment? The same person who’d taken her things?
Her heart began to pound, loud, rib-hitting strikes that made her body shake.
And she didn’t have her phone, so she had no way of calling for help.
Shit. What did she do? Stay in here?
No. The lock was flimsy at best. One good shoulder hit and they’d be in. She needed a weapon. She scanned the tiny bathroom. There was nothing in here.
Her gaze landed on her antiperspirant spray. It was all she had. It would work. She could make it work.
Quickly, she lifted it and inched toward the door. No part of her wanted to open it, but she also didn’t want to wait here like a sitting duck. Heck, the old firehouse had already been set alight. If someone did that here in her apartment, she’d be screwed.
One deep breath and she yanked the door open, ready to spray the intruder, when she stopped.
“Polly?”
Polly froze in her pacing and looked at her. “Maggie! Thank God.” She flung her arms around her shoulders. “Don’t ever text me about a fire and not answer my calls again!”
Maggie sagged. No one had broken into her apartment. She was safe. Safe and tired. No, exhausted. A bone-deep, could-barely-stand kind of exhausted.
When Polly leaned back, she frowned at the antiperspirant bottle like she was only just seeing it. “What’s with the deodorant?”
“I thought you were you an intruder.”
