Chapter 5
Carly
How the hell did I end up saying yes to a lunch date with Desmon? Despite him clarifying that we were just two co-workers going for lunch, it still felt like so much more than that. This was a very bad idea.
First, I officially now had a silly teenage-hormone-level crush on the guy. And second, I was this close to being broke. Technically, I could afford one lunch, I guess, but that would leave me with precious little for next week’s groceries.
I honestly didn’t know why I’d stayed in New York so long. That city had drained me dry. I’d found this job just in time. I just needed to scrape by until my first paycheck. Then everything would be peachy keen.
My Darlington apartment was in one of the less reputable parts of town and in an old building, but it was much larger than the shoe box I’d had in New York. It was less than half the price, too, so I’d finally be able to start saving.
Everything would be fine. It was just one lunch. I’d survive until payday.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror propped up by my front door, making a note to pick up drywall anchors on the way home today. I was hoping that my accessories, a fun chunky necklace that just happened to be in the museum’s colors and a cute headband, were enough of a change that no one at work would notice I was wearing the exact same outfit underneath my uniform vest that I’d been wearing yesterday.
I’d sprayed my clothes down with a fabric refresher, and they smelled clean enough. That was the most important part, wasn’t it? I really needed to buy at least an extra pair of pants, though.
Damn it. It felt like my shopping list kept getting longer and longer, even as my bank account kept dwindling.
“Alright, Q-Tip, I’m heading out. Talk to you later.”
My Holland Lop rabbit stared back at me from his fenced-in, linoleum-lined section of the living room, chewing lazily on a piece of hay. It was the very first thing I’d set up when we moved in last week.
Q-Tip was one of the reasons why I’d gone for this apartment, even though it was kind of crappy compared to the other option. This place was pet friendly. The other one, not so much.
A sudden loud knock at my door surprised me, and I stifled a little yelp. I peered through the peephole and saw a man holding a package. I had been told that deliveries were made to the mailboxes and mail lockers downstairs, but the packages often ended up in the wrong slot. This must be a neighbor who got my package instead.
I’d done some online shopping when I arrived here last week and realized the box with all my bathroom stuff never made it from New York. I’d been dripping onto my bathroom floor sans bath mat like a heathen for about a week, though I did pick up a single towel at the big box store. The online option had been cheapest for everything else.
I realized that it was not , in fact, my neighbor the second I opened the door. In front of me stood a man I’d never seen, and behind him was Leonard, the janitor from work. What the hell was he doing here? But his presence wasn’t what had me trying to slam the door shut; it was the fact that the man had dropped the package and was instead brandishing a knife.
Oh fuck!
Don’t tell me I’d survived the shittiest part of New York only to get shanked in quaint little Darlington. The irony!
It was too late; Leonard had wedged his foot in the door, and it wasn’t closing.
“This the bitch?” asked the man with the knife.
“Yup, that’s her,” Leonard replied.
He moved his foot away, and I took the opportunity to try slamming the door again. But before I could lock it, he charged at it. The door flew open, smashing into my hand, and I scrambled back before it hit me in the face as well.
As the two of them forced their way into the apartment, I let out the loudest scream I could, but it was quickly silenced by a grubby hand across my mouth.
“Where’s the key?” Leonard demanded. “I don’t know who’s paying you, or how much, but cough it up. Or else. No amount of money is worth your life.”
Key? What the hell was he going on about? What key?
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, after he dropped his hand.
“There’s no point in lying. I saw the courier give it to you. You put it in the top drawer, but it was gone when I checked. You must have taken it.”
So that was what he’d been doing by the front desk! I’d noticed him, but thought he was just watching it for Janice.
“You mean the envelope? I gave it to Desmon.”
What would the janitor want with a package that was addressed to Desmon? He thought someone was paying me, so maybe someone was paying him to steal from the museum?
“You’re lying! You went straight out to lunch. I watched you. You never stopped by his office. You must have brought the key back here.”
The other guy was already rifling through my stuff, dumping everything all over the floor.
“Do you have any idea what this key is supposed to look like?” Leonard asked his thug friend as he joined him in ruining my apartment.
“No clue. Gillisandra didn’t say. But we know it fits inside an envelope.”
They took entire drawers, emptied the contents onto the floor, and then did the same to the stuff still in moving boxes. I didn’t know how this was supposed to help them find a key they wouldn’t even recognize if they found it. All they did was break all my shit.
They even searched Q-Tip’s area, picking up my sweet little bunny and making a gross joke about rabbit stew. Seriously? If they hurt my baby, I would literally claw their eyes out.
Luckily, Q-Tip had a surprisingly strong kick despite his small size and managed to get the asshole good before he freed himself and raced into the bedroom and under the bed.
By the time the goons gave up, I was already a good hour late for work, and my apartment was in a shambles. There was broken glass from picture frames and mirrors, and my books were scattered all over the floor with pages ripped out of them, as if they thought the evasive key would be magically hidden between Chapter One and Two.
I kept silent, hoping that they’d leave once they realized I didn’t have what they sought. I snuck my hand into my purse, feeling around for my cell phone; maybe I could get a call out to the police? But before I could find it, they both had their attention back on me.
“It’s not here.” Knife Guy looked peeved. “What are we going to say to Gillisandra? We promised her the key.”
“ We don’t have to say anything.” Leonard jerked his thumb at me. “ She can explain to the dragon lady why the key is missing.”
Knife Guy shook his head, looking worried. “She’s not going to accept that. You know what she’s like: we promised her the key, so we get her the fucking key. No substitutions. We’re going to get our asses handed to us.”
“Okay, woman, tell us where it is. Who did you give it to? How much did they pay you for it?”
“I already told you: I gave it to Desmon. I accidentally took it out with me in my purse when I went out for lunch. When I came back to the museum after eating, I took it to his office.” I hoped that now he realized I didn’t have it, he would let me go…even though a part of me had a sneaking feeling that would be too simple.
Sure enough, the other guy said, “Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do with her now? We can’t let her go back to work. She’ll warn the dragon.”
“We’ll take her with us. Hand her over to Gillisandra. We don’t know if she’s really telling the truth. It all seems too…convenient.” Leonard grabbed me roughly by the arm and shoved me toward the door behind his friend, who was already making his way into the hallway.
Realizing that I might possibly disappear forever if I let them get me out of my apartment, I grabbed the first heavy object I could lay my hands on, which happened to be an old pewter candle holder I’d found at a garage sale on a road trip one summer. I bashed Leonard across the face with it, throwing my full weight behind the swing.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he stumbled back, grabbing his nose.
I helped him the rest of the way to the ground with my foot, kicking him in the shins. His shirt caught on a broken photo frame and ripped.
But my resistance ended when his thug friend was suddenly there, hitting me across the face, and I gasped as I tasted blood. Then he was holding his knife to my throat and threatening to slit it right then and there if I didn’t behave.
“Come with us quietly, little girl, and no one gets hurt.”
I wasn’t na?ve enough to believe him, but what choice did I have? They marched me out of the apartment, me with my split lip and Leonard with his bleeding nose, which was messing up the hallway carpet.
We were in the stairwell when my cell phone rang from my purse.
Leonard grumbled angrily. “Give it to me,” he demanded.
I dug it out of my purse, saw that it was work, and handed it over with the screen facing down, surreptitiously pressing the answer button in the process.
“Shit!” he exclaimed when Janice’s voice started coming over the speaker.
“You weren’t supposed to answer, you idiot,” Knife Guy said, smacking Leonard upside the head.
“I didn’t!”
“The fucking phone is in your hands!!!”
“Hello? Carly?” said Janice’s faint voice.
Leonard quickly jabbed at the end call button before turning off the phone completely and pocketing it.
Then we were in the parking lot, and they were shoving me into the back of an unmarked van.