I turned to him. “You
scared the crap out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t
know your name.”
I was still irritated, but told
him anyway. “It’s Rose.”
He wrapped both hands around
the strap of his messenger bag. “I’d been working late and was ready to go
home when I saw you. What’s the deal with Ax? Eric’s pissed that he didn’t
come in today. We had a real problem with the servers being down and had to
reroute through a proxy server which filtered stuff out.”
“I’m sorry?” I had no idea
what he was talking about. My lack of understanding—and interest—must have
shown on my face.
“I’m boring you, aren’t I?
Yeah, my girlfriend never wanted to hear shop talk, either. Well, my
ex-girlfriend, really. We just broke up.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said after an
awkward pause.
“Thanks.” He stared at me
for a moment. “You know, you don’t really seem like Axton’s type.” I think he
realized he might have insulted me, or Axton, or the both of us, so he tried to
backtrack. “What I mean is—”
I held up my hand to stop
him. “I’m not Axton’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, I thought…I mean he has
a picture of the two of you on his desk, so I just assumed…”
“Axton’s my friend.” I felt
a mixture of sadness and guilt as I said it. I hadn’t pressed him about the
backpack. I should have insisted he tell me the details about the club. I
knew he’d been acting unAxton-like in the diner, but I’d let it slide.
A blast of wind whipped my
hair skyward. “Wow, it’s getting cold out here.” I rubbed my hands along my
arms.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Can
I walk you to your car?”
“Yeah, thanks.” We walked
toward the street in front of the campus. “Hey, Axton went to a club the other
night. Do you know anything about that?”
“No.”
“Did you notice him acting
weird yesterday? Nervous?”
“No.”
I went through my
spiel—backpack, mystery man, yada yada. Maybe I should record this little
speech because repeating it was getting old.
“I can’t get into his
computer,” I said. “Do you think you could?”
“Yeah, probably.” He ran a
hand through his hair. “But are you sure he didn’t just leave for a few days?”
While Ax had taken off a
time or two in the past, he’d always called to let me know where he was and
when he was coming home, and he’d always taken his backpack. “I’m sure. Do
you want to meet up tomorrow and take a crack at Axton’s computer?”
“Like for dinner, or
something?” He smiled. “I know this Italian place, they make an authentic
osso buco—”
“How about I bring it by
after I get off work?”
Steve’s smile lost a few
watts. “Sure. You know where the IT office is, right?”
“Basement of Blake Hall.
I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As I drove home, I kept
checking my rearview mirror to make sure no one followed me. Yep, definitely
becoming paranoid.
Feeling drained and more
concerned about Axton by the minute, I slogged up the stairs to my apartment,
sifting the keys in my hand to find the right one. But before I could slide it
into the lock, a mountain of a man opened my front door. He loomed above me,
his dark hair slicked back from his face. His crooked nose had been broken in
at least three places and a long jagged scar ran close to his left eye.
He said nothing, but a deep voice
from inside my apartment said, “Come in, Rosalyn.”
It was
the
voice.
The one belonging to the mystery man from the woods.
I gulped and stood there,
too scared to move forward, too shocked to turn around and run. The man at the
door snatched my arm and pulled me into the apartment, slamming the door behind
me. He plucked the keys from my hand and tossed them on the bistro table.
I sidled to the left, with
my back against the wall. I kept him in my peripheral view while I studied the
man standing in the middle of my apartment. He was the exact opposite of Scarface.
His blue-black hair was combed away from his perfect face. His gold eyes—not
golden-brown, just gold—glittered in the faint glow of my yard sale flamingo lamp.
With light honeyed skin stretched over strong cheekbones, he was beautiful—like
fallen angel beautiful. He wore a dark suit and overcoat. He scared me a lot
more than the other guy. It was obvious he was in charge and Scarface was just
there for back up.
I didn’t know what he wanted
or if he planned on hurting me, but I made up my mind then and there that I
wouldn’t go down without a fight. And I wouldn’t let him see how afraid I was
either. But between you and me, I think I wet my pants just a little.
“Hello, Rosalyn. Oh wait,
you like to be called Rose. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the futon.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll
stand, you know, since it’s my apartment and all.”
I felt a massive paw on my
shoulder. “Sit,” Scarface said. His voice sounded like crunching gravel.
I twisted out of his grasp
and my backpack slid to the floor. I side-stepped away from him, bumping my
hip into the closet doorknob. Since I was scared shitless, the pain barely
registered.
The boss waved two fingers
and shook his head. “Let’s be civil, Henry. Why don’t you wait in the car?”
As soon as Scarface Henry
left, the mystery man began prowling around my apartment. He slid his
fingertips across the bistro table and snagged my keys, twirling them around
one finger. Then he paused and looked at the red rose keychain Axton had given
me as a joke. “Original.” He dropped them back on the table.
Crossing my arms to hide my
shaking hands, I glared at him. “What do you want?” I kept hold of my
bravado, but my knees were knocking so hard I thought I might topple over.
He walked to the kitchenette
and looked at the paper hanging on my refrigerator. Scotty had colored a
picture of me—my head was ten times the size of my stick body. The mystery man
tapped the drawing. “I can see the resemblance.” Then he strolled to the
cluster of cheap frames arranged on top of my dresser. He picked up the
picture of Roxy and me. We had our arms thrown around each other and were
making smootchie faces at the camera. He put it down and moved to the next
photo. The one of Scotty when he was about ten minutes old. I rushed toward
him and tried to grab it, but he held it just out of reach.
“Put it down.” I grabbed the
soft woolen sleeve of his overcoat and pulled, but he didn’t move. I peered up
at his face, and he stared back at me. Our gazes locked and held for a moment.
He leaned toward me. He
smelled citrusy and spicy at the same time, like oranges and sandalwood. “I
want my property.” His voice was silky steel.
I let go of his arm and
stepped back. “I…,” my voice cracked. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”
“Don’t play games, Rose.”
He set the photo down and walked to the futon, gracefully folding himself onto
it, his arm spread along the back. “You’ll lose.”
“I don’t know what you’re
talking about,” I repeated, my voice stronger this time.
He looked at me like he was
waiting for something. Eventually, he nodded. “Let’s pretend that’s true, and
for your sake, I hope it is.” His gaze flickered from my face to my breasts
and back up to my eyes. The whole process took less than a second, but I had
the feeling he’d categorized and labeled me in that brief instant.
“Why don’t you just ask Axton
where the hell your property is?”
He didn’t move a muscle, but
I noticed a shift in him. His eyes seemed sharper and tension ran through his
body.
I hadn’t realized until that
moment I’d been holding my breath. Air whooshed out of my lungs as relief and
hope shot through me. “You don’t know where Axton is, do you?”
“Why don’t you stick to
serving pancakes and focus on your classes. A C-minus in accounting? Tsk,
tsk.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.
Hearing him casually discuss
the details of my life made me almost dizzy. I stood straight and lifted my
chin. “You seem to know a lot about me. In the interest of fairness, why
don’t you tell me about yourself? Like, who the hell are you?”
“I’m not interested in
fairness. And your interference could be detrimental to Axton’s health.”
I took a step toward him, my
fists clenched. “If you harm one wiry hair on his head—”
“You’ll what, sling hash at
me? If I wanted to hurt your friend, you’d never find the body.” Then he
laughed.
Anger rose up deep inside
me, crowding out the fear. This smug asshole broke into my home, threatened
Axton, and was sitting on my own damn futon laughing at me. I saw red.
I leapt on him, lashing out
with both hands and popped him one in the mouth. All of the frustration,
anger, and fear I’d bottled up since Axton’s phone call bubbled to the surface.
“You’d better not hurt Axton, do you understand me?”
He calmly pinned my hands
and held them behind my back, pulling me forward until my breasts smashed against
his chest.
I tried to pull away, but he
held fast. “Let go of me.”
His eyes darkened to an
antique gold. “Only if you promise to behave yourself.”
I didn’t want to behave
myself. I wanted to pound my fist into his face a few more times. I leaned my
head back, then drove it forward, trying to head butt him in the nose. But he
saw it coming and jerked his head to the side at the last second. My forehead
grazed his ear.
“That’s enough,” he said.
I struggled to free myself.
With both of my hands restrained in one of his, he thrust his other hand into
my hair, firmly holding my head still.
“I said enough.”
My breaths came in choppy
gasps, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst. I stopped moving. My
body was plastered against his, each shallow breath pushing my breasts even
further into his chest with every inhalation. His lips were soft against my
cheek, his breath fanned my ear. We stayed like that, pressed against each
other, for what seemed like a really long time. It was probably only a minute,
but it was intense and awkward.
“Are you okay now?” he
asked.
“Yeah.” He slowly released
me. I scrambled off him and walked backward until I hit the wall. Neither one
of us spoke, we just stared at each other. His chest heaved like he’d run a
four-minute mile. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one affected by that
little exchange. Gradually, my own breathing returned to normal.
When I thought I could talk
without panting like a dog, I said, “What’s to stop me from calling the cops?”
“That wouldn’t be in Axton’s
best interest.” He stood and buttoned his coat as he walked toward me, coming
to a stop when his toes bumped mine. “And I’m not a man you want to fuck
with.”
After he left, I stood there
for several seconds before hurrying to the door, locking it and sliding the
chain in place. Tomorrow I was going to get new locks. I doubted it would
keep him out if he wanted to get in, but it would make me feel better. I moved
my dresser in front of the door and huddled up in the corner of the futon,
fully clothed, until the next morning.
I took the quickest shower of
my life just before five a.m. The two men probably wouldn’t come back and
catch me wet and naked, but why take chances. After throwing on some clothes,
I made a full pot of coffee, guzzling down most of it.
It was still halfway dark
when I left my apartment and crossed the parking lot. Jumpy and alert, I
scanned the area, but didn’t see anything out of place. Of course I hadn’t
seen anything out of place last night either and look how well that turned out.
I hopped into my car and slammed the door, making sure it was locked before I
started the engine.
There weren’t many cars on
the road this early, but my eyes darted around the gloomy streets looking for
anything suspicious. By the time I got to Ma’s I was a shaky mess.
I greeted Ray and Jorge as I
walked through the kitchen before making a beeline to the restroom. Ma and
Roxy exchanged a glance as I hustled past. When I stepped back into the dining
room, I pulled a clean apron from the hook and put it in on.
“Rose, honey, are you all
right?” Ma asked.
I gave them a recap of my
crappy night. They both made “o’s” with their mouths.
“And the thing is, this guy
who broke into my apartment didn’t say what he’s looking for. But I have to
find Axton before he does.” I realized I was talking so fast my words jumbled
together, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. And I flailed my hands like a
loon. “Whoever he was, he was scary. Hot, but scary. No, forget hot. Hot
has nothing to do with it. Just scary.” I finally paused to take a deep
breath. “Sorry. I drank almost a whole pot of coffee.”