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 walking up 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, and although 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.”
I don’t know what to say, so I end up not saying anything.
“Have you decided how long you’ll be staying in town?” He places his arm along the back of the sofa and uses the leverage to scoot a little closer to me. My insides are going haywire, and not just because I know this may be the lead-up to me kicking him out.
“Not really.” There’s a slight tremble in my voice.
“I only have one more day.” He’s close enough now to use the tips of his fingers to graze my temple and brush my hair behind my ear. The touch is intimate and very convincing.
My mouth goes dry. Even though I’m assuming this is part of his ruse, I still find myself wanting to lean into his touch. Instead, I force myself to tilt my head back to create a little distance between us. “Really? Maybe we should talk about my sister’s case then.”
“It’s already pretty late.” He makes a show of looking out the window and into the evening sky. “I’d like to get to know you a little better.”
“You could have gotten to know me a little better over the past two hours,” I reply, dismissing his clumsy advance.
“You could have asked about your sister then too.”
Ouch. I know he doesn’t mean that, but the comment still stings because most of the time I’ve spent with Boone has had nothing to do with Hayzel. “I… I didn’t want to bug you,” I stammer.
“I told you that I will look into her case,” he says, but it sounds more like a concession than an actual offer. “I thought we were getting along well.”
“Hey!” I blurt out and back pedal off the couch when Boone lays his hand pretty high on my thigh. “You’re right. It’s getting late. I think you should probably go.”
The look on his face is at total odds with his behavior.
His lips are pressed into a tight line, which could come off as angry, but his eyes are filled with what I can only call concern.
There’s a short pause, and I open my mouth to ask him to leave again, but he cuts me off with a chuckle that is both condescending and cocky.
“I think I read your desperation wrong.” He rises from the couch and walks straight for me.
Instinct has me wanting to stand my ground. I want to get some kind of confirmation that this is still part of the show, but my insecurities have me stepping back to get out of his way, making it so he just brushes past me in a dismissive manner.
“A word of advice, Harlyn. Move on. What happened to your sister is tragic, but seeing the boogeyman in everyone and everything isn’t going to help you. Stop trying to be an armchair detective and let the police handle her case.”
“I thought I was. I just didn’t realize your help came with strings attached.”
“You invited me over to your house, cooked me dinner, and accepted my offer to breakfast, and now you want to pretend I’m the one who’s out of line for touching your leg?” he scoffs.
“Heaven forbid I should be considerate. Next time I’ll know that comes off as easy to a guy like you.”
Boone’s back is to me, but I still see him shake his head slowly. I think he might say something else, but after a long pause, he just strides toward the counter and snatches up his keys I placed there, then he slams the door on his way out.
I don’t waste anytime following after him and twisting the deadbolt into place. Even though I know that was a fake fight, I still feel raw. When I hear his car speed away, a different sense of dread fills me.
I have to force myself to leave the entryway and head back into the living room.
Why didn’t I ask him how he was going to get back in and when?
My hand shakes when I pick up the remote and turn the television off.
When the glow from the screen disappears, I walk hastily over to the lamp and flip it on, only to realize it makes it harder to see outside and, in turn, easier for someone to see in.
Mounting panic has me fumbling for the phone I left behind on the couch. I want to call Boone and ask him to come back, but I can’t, which leaves me floundering for my next move.
Act normal. Boone’s instructions replay in my head. I exhale slowly and force myself to sit on the couch. The space feels so much larger now that he’s gone. Heart in my throat, I send Livy another text because it seems like the normal thing to do.
Me: Men are dumb.