Page 152 of Unsuitable

No, something is behind here. Something he doesn’t want me to see. I just know it in my gut.

And there are only two stacks left to check.

I move to the next bookcase, my heart picking up pace from the fear of being caught. Taking a deep breath, I press my palms flat to each side of the stack, and I push firmly.

Holy shit! It moved.

Only a little, but there was a definite give to the left.

My heart rate sets off like a racehorse, and my pulse starts to thrum in my ears.

I swallow nervously as I press my hands to the left side of the stack.

Okay, here goes nothing.

I give it a strong push.

And it clicks. Then, it opens.

Holy fucking fuck a duck! I was right!

I quickly glance over my shoulder, checking if I’m still alone.

Then, hands trembling, I curl my fingers around the edge of the now unlocked bookcase, and I ease it open.

And there it is.

The door.

The mothereffing door.

I fricking knew it!

Lying bastard Kas-hole.

I grind my teeth together in anger and contemplation.

My fingers are itching as I stare at the door.

Should I open it?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

I’ve come this far. Might as well go the whole way.

Flexing my fingers, my breathing hitched, I reach out and curl my hand around the doorknob.

I turn it, and…it’s locked.

Bugger.

I give it another turn, as though that will magically open the door, but it doesn’t open because it’s clearly locked.

I’m such a knobhead.