Chapter 29 The Spare Key
The Spare Key
Anika
Aweek had passed since Mikko had showered in her house.
He’d been eerily quiet since then, a fact she hardly found reassuring.
If anything it meant he was plotting something nefarious.
Levi had been his usual chattering self, excited to take her out and replace all the makeup she’d “dropped in the sink and ruined.”
She’d sent a picture of her haul to Mikko as a big “fuck you,” but he’d left her on read. Boring.
Now, daylight streamed in across her work desk.
The warmth of it made her tired, her sleeping patterns completely messed up.
As much as her discretion mattered, Anika couldn’t hold onto all the loose ends for much longer.
Her body was giving out, and she needed to act soon.
Levi and Mikko were closing in on her in their own way, and it made her skittish.
“Anika,” a voice said from her doorway, “someone delivered flowers at the front desk for you.” Looking up, Anika caught sight of their office manager walking away. She wasn’t expecting flowers…
With wary footsteps and her heart in her throat, Anika made her way out to the front desk. Rounding the corner, the deep hue of violets popped against the white counter. Baby’s Breath was tucked around the purple flowers, offsetting their vibrancy wonderfully.
But the hidden meaning behind these had Anika’s movements faltering.
Watchfulness and everlasting love.
Two sides of a coin.
A crisp piece of folded cardstock with her name on it protruded above the flowers.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching, Anika picked the whole arrangement up.
She’d deal with this in the privacy of her office.
It was either Levi buttering her up or Mikko taunting her.
Both of which she didn’t want her coworkers to see.
Gracefully sitting back down into her chair with her office door securely closed, she plucked the note from its holder.
We need to talk. Leave the spare key out for me.
—M
Anika snorted and pulled two small tubes that were nestled next to the note from the greenery as well.
What’s this?
Perfume and lip gloss.
The fragrance brand he’d gotten her was one she’d been running low on and needed to buy. Her brow quirked.
She broke the seal of the lip gloss and opened it, the shade pale and creamy and—
Pulling up Mikko’s number in her phone, she quickly typed up a response.
Thanks for the flowers, still doesn’t erase your intrusions :Anika
Also, wtf is the lip gloss about? :Anika
Despite him leaving her on read prior, he responded quickly this time.
Mikko: The lip gloss is a shade that I think would look good on you…a color close to my heart, if you will
You’re disgusting :Anika
Mikko: And here I thought my picture would sate you
Levi does that all on his own :Anika
Mikko: Suuure
Mikko: The toy in your nightstand says otherwise
Anika’s face reddened in anger.
Any updates on Ivan? I hear there has been some unrest within your company due to your lack of action :Anika
A terribly risky thing to say, but she couldn’t help herself. Mikko answered shortly after, never one to be bested.
Mikko: You’re going to regret that
Regret wasn’t the word she’d use, but it didn’t matter. She opened his message and didn’t even bother to reply.
* * *
THE SOFT, BUTTERY light from the lamp next to her illuminated the pages of the book Anika flipped through. She wasn’t sure what time it was, only that her back ached from the position she was in.
And she knew she should be in bed since it was a weeknight, but she didn’t care, too engrossed in her book. Rain gently splashed against the window behind her, a gentle melody lulling her deeper into the pages. She’d vowed multiple chapters ago she’d stop for the night.
It hadn’t worked.
After messaging Mikko earlier that day, his ominous last words had kept her on edge. She wasn’t sure if he’d do anything, or let her believe he’d do something. How much of a coward was he? Only time would tell.
Memorizing the chapter number she was on, Anika set it on the side table next to the couch. Reaching over the armrest, she went to turn off the lamp since her mind was finally dulled enough for sleep when—
Blackness engulfed her.
But she hadn’t even touched the switch.
Her mind was no longer walking the edge between consciousness and sleep; now she was wide awake.
Especially when she noticed her whole house was swathed in shadow. Outside, thunder rumbled closer than before.
Had the storm blown a power line down? Or is Mikko finally executing his threats?
Her conversation with him about coincidences floated back through her head.
On silent feet, she slunk toward the cased opening leading from her living room to the main hall of her house. If Mikko, or anyone for that matter, was breaking in, she’d be ready.
Peering down the corridor toward her kitchen, more darkness greeted her. Not even the light above her stove was on as it usually was. Nearby, she flipped a light switch, testing it for power. Nothing.
The rain outside pelted the windows as if it were clawing to get in.
Something like excitement and dread ran through her, the telltale prickle of being watched returning.
Someone was nearby even if she couldn’t see them yet.
But it didn’t matter, she had an advantage here.
Anika owned weapons and was in a space she knew well.
An intruder wouldn’t know the layout of her home like she did.
Unless it’s Mikko…
Even then, his numerous visits didn’t give him the same edge. Out of spite, Anika had rearranged her furniture slightly since he’d showered here to throw him off.
Padding into the foyer, she aimed to slink up the stairs so she could retrieve her gun tucked inside the safe near her bed. But something stopped her. The windows outlining her front door glowed.
Anika’s brows rose.
Pressing her back to the wall, she inched closer, careful not to trip on a pair of shoes placed in the entry.
Her movements were sure and soundless, eyes catching on the street lamp across the way from her house.
Within the shadowed recesses of her home, the defiant source of light made her realize her power outage was an isolated event.
If the storm was the cause of this, the whole street would be out.
“I swear to—” The sound of a door creaking open across her house halted her frustrated curses. Frozen, Anika flicked her gaze back down the hall in front of her, breath shallow as she listened.
A footstep.
The sound of her backdoor snicking shut.
Another footstep.
It had to be Mikko. No one else would be bold enough to cut her power and slip inside the privacy of her home. His message on her flowers was clear.
Moving about a foot to the right, Anika pressed herself up against the solid wood of the door lest her silhouette be seen against the windows.
The ridges of her spine notched against the molding as she leaned into it, cloaked by its shadowed frame.
Her mind calculated how long it would take for her to dash up the steps nearby, grab her gun, and meet the intruder with her weapon.
Anika’s throat tightened, brain trying to stay calm and logical. She’d had plenty of years to practice—to hone her emotions into what she needed to survive—but there was still a small piece of her that remembered what happened when she was thirteen.
That home invasion had been one that had changed the trajectory of her life. Only this time she could fight and claw and scream. She had nothing to lose now.
More footsteps faintly echoed through her house, their origin on the opposite end and ascending the small set of steps leading into her kitchen.
Without wasting another second, she dashed upstairs, avoiding all the creaking planks as she went.
Her bare feet were nearly silent on the hardwoods, her gun safe greeting her as soon as she entered her room.
Typing in the code, Anika’s thoughts only calmed when the cool kiss of the gun was securely in her hand.
Would she now meet him on the stairs?
Only one way to find out.
Against her better judgment, she walked back the way she came, waiting to see his silhouette composed of shadow and molten viridescent eyes.
Her breaths shortened, her eyes focusing on the stretch of steps leading down and to the front door she’d been pressed against. Slowly, she descended.
There was no escaping Mikko, so she might as well meet him head on.
Step by step she made progress, expecting his head to appear between the wooden balusters at any minute. Her gun was pointed down, but both hands gripped it, her body ready to aim and shoot when the time came.
Down, down, down she went until finally her foot touched the wooden floor of the foyer once more.
A scuff of a boot on her floor had her eyes snapping up toward the hall, her gun following in suit. Mikko’s frame filled the doorway before her, the image uncannily similar to the one he’d sent her a week ago. He lurked inside the short hall, about ten feet separating them still.
Come on, she taunted internally.
As if hearing her silent mocking, his boot crossed over and into the dim light. The windows surrounding her door provided enough to see by, her eyes already adjusted courtesy of her cut power.
Recklessness flowed through her veins, the promise of a game whispering in the back of her mind.
She could pop off a shot and wound Mikko, which would give her enough time to fling herself through the front door.
She didn’t want to take her chances with someone twice her size even if he deserved it.
“Are you sure you’re ready to put our lessons to the test?” Mikko’s voice cut through the tension.
“You’re the one who broke in,” she countered, “seems like you have a death wish.”
“We have unfinished business.”
“I like to let my gun do the—”