“What is it?”
He doesn't answer. He's looking down the hall.
I follow his gaze.
My door is at the end of the corridor. From here I can see something dark sprayed across the wood. Spray paint—like the messy walls downstairs.
“Stay behind me,” Levi mutters and starts moving forward again.
I stay behind him.
We move closer, and my stomach drops when I see big, jagged letters painted on my door with a message.
It says:
Suck my cock, beautiful
And that’s not the worst thing.
The door. It’s open.
Not all the way, just enough that a thin line of dark shows between the door and the frame.
An anguished sound escapes me and my lungs squeeze.
I know I absolutely did not leave the door open.
The same asshole who left the message did that. And they’re either still inside my apartment, or want me to think they might be.
Levi steadies me. “Don’t move,” he warns. “Don’t make a sound.”
“But—”
“I’m going in. You stay here.”
He presses forward and I stay, trembling.
God, I knew this place was dangerous, that I was practically buying time, but I never imagined this. I’ve only been living here for a little over two weeks.
My laptop is in there. It’s the most valuable thing I own. I’ve been hiding it under the bed, but someone looking hard enough would find it.
Levi opens the door. It swings inward and he walks in.
Instantly, I worry he may get hurt.
People around these parts carry all sorts of weapons—guns, knives, anything that can kill.
There’s not a whole lot to my apartment, so there isn’t much to check out. Still, I hold my breath.
It comes out of me in a whoosh when Levi walks back outside.
“No one’s in there, but the fuckers made a mess,” he grates out.
He walks back inside, and I follow.
There’s a mess, alright—empty beer cans, cartons of half-finished Chinese food, and just… trash, like a garbage can was emptied out all over the fucking floor.
Then there are my things, tossed everywhere.
