“Are you always this bossy to people you work with?”
He tilts his head as if he’s really thinking about my question. “I expect people to listen to me, but no, probably not.”
“Oh goody, I love being special.” I exit the car, and the light teasing from just moments ago slips away as I look at the front door. What would have happened if Boone hadn’t made plans to come back today? Would they have called Olivia to identify my body after this psycho killed me?
A large palm on the small of my back pulls me out of my dark thoughts. Too bad it isn’t a permanent solution.
CHAPTER 15
Harlyn
“Try to act normal,” Boone warns just above a whisper as my shaking fingers enter the code for the front door lock.
I nod, and he reaches forward to twist the knob, going in ahead of me. Part of me expects an intruder to leap out with a knife the second we step inside, but thankfully, that doesn’t happen. The condo is empty, and the farther I go, the more obvious it becomes that nothing is out of place. Does that mean he hasn’t been back, or that he didn’t want me to know he was here this time?
“I’ll take another look around, but I think you just got spooked this morning.” Boone’s tone is off. If I didn’t know his ruse, I might believe he was dismissing my concerns and only indulging me.
I don’t have to fake my appreciation though. “Thanks.”
He makes quick work of checking all the rooms on the lowest level, even looking into the pantry and closets. As he’s walkingup the stairs, he calls out, “Any chance you could warm up those leftovers?”
“Is it… Yeah, no problem.” I stop myself from asking if he thinks that’s safe and do what he asks, though I’m not going to let him eat it. Who knows what that monster could have done to it? I crinkle my nose in disgust at the thought of how many things I may have eaten that he could have tainted.
Boone’s gone for so long, I find myself standing at the base of the staircase, about to call up for him when he finally makes an appearance near the railing of the loft. “I used your bathroom. I hope you don’t mind.” He’s being flippant—maybe not with what he’s saying, but definitely with the way he’s saying it.
“I guess it’s okay. There are guest baths, you know.” I play along, acting a little irritated.
“The need to piss didn’t hit until I was all the way up there,” he gripes before calling out, “All clear, just like I said.”
“Good to know.” I widen my eyes at him as he continues downstairs, a small smile playing at my lips despite the situation we find ourselves in. Nothing he’s said or done would really bother me, but his tone is another matter entirely.
“Mind if I turn this on?” He already has the television remote in his hand.
“Go ahead.”
After a quick look at the remote, the TV comes to life, displaying a guide. He scrolls to a dedicated sports channel and turns the volume up a little louder than I would like, but I understand his reasoning. The commentators’ voices drone on along with highlighted clips from various games. I don’t think anything we say would be overheard over the din of the show.
The microwave chimes again, reminding me of the food and giving me an excuse to turn away from Boone who is now following me to the kitchen. “Smells fantastic,” he says just over my shoulder.
“You aren’t really going to eat it, are you?” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth.
“No, which is another reason I can’t stand this asshole.” His reply is just as soft.
“Did you find anything?” I pretend to go through the motions, getting him some silverware and a napkin to place at the island.
“Nothing obvious, but I’m not convinced it’s clean.” Boone picks up the plate and napkin and heads into the living room. I fidget, wiping down the already clean counter and returning the remains of the wasted chicken back to the fridge. I should have gotten a few bottles of water from the 7-Eleven. I just know I’m going to be too paranoid to drink or eat anything from here, even if it’s sealed.
Eventually I make my way to the couch, taking a cushion near the end, leaving some space between Boone and myself. It’s hard to relax when all I can think about is someone watching my every move. To take my mind off the weirdness, I try to pay attention to the TV, but my lack of interest is obvious when I just pick up my phone instead. Out of habit, I needlessly check my texts to see if Parker has responded. Finding only advertisements for sales and promotional crap, I switch over to a game.
“That’s a mistake,” Boone announces to the television. I have no idea what he’s referring to, but there is a man in a football uniform dominating the screen.
Eventually, the tension in my shoulders eases, and my mind begins to wander. I think of several questions I should have thought to ask when we were alone, like how he will get back in, what equipment he was referring to, and how long he’ll be gone. It would have been smart to at the very least get more information about the plan. I feel like I’m in the dark, andalthough I want to trust Boone, it isn’t exactly easy to have blind faith.
I check the clock far too frequently over the next few hours while Boone switches between paying attention to the television and what I assume is texting on his phone. There are a few very short-lived conversations between us about inane things before he eventually grabs the remote and turns the TV down to a more subdued level.
I want to let out a sigh of relief. I think I’m a little too used to being alone. Even while living with Livy, we didn’t spend a lot of time in shared spaces together, doing things like watching television.
“Thanks for letting me commandeer your place. I don’t get much downtime, and it’s a little nicer than my hotel room.”
