Chapter 2
Chapter two
Elsie
The walk to my apartment doesn't take me long and a few minutes later I'm walking into my apartment building, nestled in downtown Los Angeles. "Good evening, Ms. Elsie," Gus, the doorman, greets.
"Good evening, Gus."
"That was one hell of a game." He says, grinning at me.
Gus is a huge Stars fan. He never misses a game as long as it's being televised. I've tried to get him tickets to see a game in person, but he always declines, saying that he can't handle the crowds. But who knows.
"It sure was. I'm beat. Good night."
Gus doesn't reply, he just nods his head at me as I hit the button on the elevator. Thankfully, it opens right away and I'm able to ride straight up to my floor. The moment I walk off the elevator though, something feels off. Not able to put my finger on it, I just know something is wrong.
Looking down the hallway there are only two apartments on this floor. Mine and Mr. Wesley's. I look at Mr. Wesley's apartment and everything seems fine. His door is closed, nothing seems wrong, but my instincts are screaming at me that something is wrong.
Taking a deep breath, I take a tentative step toward my apartment, hoping that this all is just me being paranoid. But lately, I've been feeling as if someone is watching me, yet I never see anyone.
Slowly I approach the door of my apartment, and when I see that it's open the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
Opening up my fanny pack, I pull out my phone, but something stops me from calling the police.
Instead, I do something even dumber by pushing the door open.
Crossing my fingers, hoping that whoever was here isn't anymore.
Curiosity gets me moving, forcing my legs to take that first step, but when I enter, I'm not prepared in any way for what I see.
Standing in my apartment, my eyes go wide, and I can't stop the gasp that comes out of my mouth when I realize that it's trashed.
Everything has been beaten and broken. Nothing left untouched, at least here in the living room.
I keep going further into the apartment, making my way to the kitchen.
It looks just like the living room. Knowing that my room will also be destroyed, I still can't help it, I need to see it with my own eyes.
Walking down the small hallway, I stop in front of the door of my room and slowly push it open.
It looks like whoever did this let all of their anger out in here.
A tear escapes my eye when I look up and see the words "You’re mine!" spray painted on the walls.
This is not right. Finally doing the smart thing, I open my phone and call someone who I know can help me. My father's best friend, Matthew
The phone rings only once before he answers, "Elsie?"
"Uh yeah. Someone broke into my apartment." I tell him.
'Where are you?" He growls.
"At my apartment." I tell him, my eyes never leave the words on my wall.
"Elsie, listen to me. Leave now. Go to the lobby and wait for me there," he commands.
"Okay,' I breathe out.
"I mean it, Elsie. I'm on my way right now. Get out of that apartment. Now."
This time when he says it, it's as if his demand is connected to my legs, because somehow I'm finally able to move them, and quickly leave the apartment.
Before I know it, the doors to the elevators open up and I'm in the lobby.
The moment I take a step off the car, Gus sees me and says right away. "Elsie, are you okay?"
I answer him in a voice that doesn't sound like mine, "Someone's been in my apartment."
"What do you mean?" he asks, his brow furrowed.
I go to open my mouth to answer him, but a sob bursts out instead. I can't seem to get my bearings. "Come on, honey, let's go have a seat." Gus says, putting his arm around my shoulders as he guides me over to a chair.
When my butt hits the chair, he leaves me there, saying, "Hold on right there. Let me get you some water."
But I don't ever get that water. I take a deep breath to try and stop the tears, but I can't seem to stop them.
The tears just keep coming and coming, no matter what I seem to do, I can't get them to stop.
Suddenly, I find it hard to breathe. I hear a whooshing sound in my ears when all the blood rushes into them.
Dark spots litter my eyes and I start to feel lightheaded. The room starts to sway, I fall out of the chair, opening my mouth to yell but the sound seems to be stuck in my throat. I try to put my hands out, but they feel heavy with pain radiating through my head and then everything goes dark.
***
My eyes flutter open to a handsome man, one I recognize, crouching over me, his hands on my shoulders shaking me, "Elsie, are you okay?"
"Matt, what are you doing here?" I ask, trying to sit up, when he sees I'm having difficulty doing so Matt holds his hand out.
The moment I place my hand in his, it feels as if an electric shock runs through me.
The feeling makes me pull my hand back, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
It's a ritual I've come accustomed to when I'm around him.
This isn't the first time I've had this feeling around him.
The first time I felt it was when I came home my freshman year during the summer.
I hadn't been back home all year because of basketball, but this time I had a week off and decided to spend it with my dad.
When I walked in, he was sitting at the table with a man I'd never met before, laughing.
When they both looked at me, I remember the only thing I could think of was, what a beautiful man. Now ten years later, I still feel the same, but he's made it clear over the years that it will never happen.
"Don't you remember calling me?" He asks me, arching his brow.
I shake my head. Because, fuck, the only thing I remember is the feeling of fear wracking my entire body, but something in the back of my head keeps trying to push forward.
"It doesn't matter. Drink this," he says, pushing a bottle into my hand.
The moment our hands touch a shiver runs down my spine, but I push those thoughts away, murmuring, "Thank you," before taking a sip of the water.
"We need to get you to the hospital," Matt says, standing to his full height, looming over me, not giving me any time to process what's going on.
"I'm fine. I don't need a hospital. You need to go look at my apartment," I tell him, giving him a pleading look.
He looks me over from head to toe but ignores the message I'm trying to give him, because he demands once more. "You're going to the hospital. No arguing."
I go to open my mouth, to tell him I'm fine, that I don't need to go to the doctor, but when I look at him, he shoots me a look that has me reconsidering.
Feeling defeated, I drop my head into my hands, but Matt doesn't give me long to wallow before he picks me up bridal style, carrying me to his car.