Chapter 8
June
The pizza finally arrives, and we eat while watching Dexter.
I had doubts when Malcolm said it was a good show because I’m not a fan of violence and gore. But he’s right. Despite the handsome lead actor’s sinister smile as he stabs and chops up criminals, I’m surprised how much I enjoy it.
Malcolm stands as the second episode’s credits flashes across the screen.
“I should head back. It’s getting late.”
I nod, forcing a smile. Just when I’m finally not so nervous around him and I’m enjoying his company, he’s leaving.
Then I’ll be all alone.
And that reminds me of the strange things I found in my bedroom. I stare at the TV without actually seeing it, a terrible possibility gripping me. If someone was in my apartment, what if they come back when Malcolm’s gone?
“What’s wrong?”
I blink on return to the present and look at him.
“I’m—”
“No, don’t do that.” He frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re fine like you did last time. You’re obviously not. Tell me what’s going on.”
I’m either easy to read or he’s very perceptive. Probably both. I lower my gaze. It’s embarrassing to be a burden again, but he demanded the truth.
“My bedroom window was open when I came home, and I don’t remember leaving it like that on Friday.”
I feel silly sharing the rest about my underwear and the dirt marks, but Malcolm’s expression turns serious, his gaze alert.
“You think someone was in your apartment while you were gone?”
“I can’t say for sure.”
“Did you notice anything missing?”
“No. Something just feels… off.”
Malcolm strides to my bedroom. I stand and follow him. He approaches my bed first, bending to peer at the mark. Then he straightens, an unreadable look on his face as he moves to the window. He parts the curtains and holds them out of the way, examining the window without touching it.
He glances over his shoulder. “Come here.” When I obey, he points at a brown mark I hadn’t noticed earlier on the windowsill. “That’s a boot print.”
On a closer look, the mark is a partial pattern of short rectangles with a curved edge on one side. My stomach drops. Oh my god. That’s definitely from a shoe, and it’s too large to be any of mine. I’ve never climbed up on my windowsill either.
“Somebody was in my apartment!”
He nods. “The mark on your bed might also be from their shoes.”
“Ugh! It’s bad enough they broke in. They also wore their shoes in my bed?”
I spin away from the window and hug myself, anger and fear twisted together in a hard knot in my chest. Someone forced their way into my home while I was gone and did who knows what. Oh god. I think I know one thing they did! If they were on my bed with my underwear—
I shudder, not wanting to finish the disgusting thought.
Malcolm moves closer and gently grips my upper arms.
“It’s OK, sweetheart. What matters is that you’re safe.
” He slides his hands up and down my arms in a comforting caress.
His touch and soothing voice calms me down right away, and I miss his warmth when he releases me.
“Call the police. I’m going to take a quick look around your window from outside. I’ll be right back.”
He leaves my room and I get my phone. Once dispatch assures me someone will be on their way soon, I return to the living room.
Malcolm’s absence is palpable, the quiet unsettling. I’m glad when I remember he’ll need my help to reenter the building. I hurry out to the lobby to wait for him. He comes back a few minutes later.
“I checked your lock first. It doesn’t look like they tampered with it,” he says once we’re in my apartment again. “There weren’t any signs of forced entry from outside either. They got in with a key, and the open window is how they left.”
“Why would they leave through the window if they have a key?”
“Good question. It means they couldn’t leave the way they came.” He pauses, his stare direct. “I suspect they were in the apartment at the same time we arrived.”
The knot returns. I press my hand to my chest to soothe it. I almost met this awful person. Did they leave because we showed up? Or were they waiting for me alone to come home but left because they heard Malcolm’s voice? There’s no telling what would’ve happened if Malcolm hadn’t been here.
“Who has keys to your apartment?”
His voice grounds me, pulling me down from my float among fearful thoughts.
“My landlord Mr. Wolsey and Penny.” My eyes widen. “Oh, Penny’s cousin! Penny gave him her key to collect some things she forgot to take with her. He works at a drug mart a couple blocks from my job. He was supposed to drop off the key with me when he was done, but he never did.”
“What’s his name? Ever met him?”
“Kevin. We went on a date once. It didn’t go well.”
“Why not?”
I make a face. “He hardly said anything and he avoided eye contact a lot. Penny warned me he was shy, but I didn’t expect it would be that bad. I would ask him a question, he’d answer it, and that was it. No back and forth, you know?”
“A lot of guys struggle with what to say to a pretty girl. I imagine it’s worse for a shy guy.”
I bite my lips together, trying not to focus on his hidden compliment.
“I guess so, but I was so bored, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
” Remembering that night makes me cringe.
“I kicked our table accidentally-on-purpose, then acted like the pain was so bad I had to go home early. Actually, I didn’t have to pretend.
It really hurt. I shouldn’t have kicked so hard. ”
Amusement shines in Malcolm’s eyes, one corner of his lips curved up.
“Aside from the bad date, can you think of any other negative interaction with him?”
I shake my head. “I avoided him after that.”
His faint smile disappears. “What about your ex, then? Ever gave him a key to your place?”
“No, but he’s not the kind of person to break into apartments.”
“How are you so sure about that?”
I don’t want to talk about Tyler’s good virtues but I grudgingly share the truth.
“He’s a cheating asshole, but otherwise, he’s a decent person. He looks out for others. For instance, he does charity runs and he’s part of a mentorship program for kids. He’s harmless.”
Malcolm frowns. “Harmless? June, I caught him trying to force a kiss on you last night.”
“I know, but he was drunk. He’s never done anything like that when we were together.” I sigh. “I don’t want to defend him, but I just don’t think he’s capable of something like this.”
“Anybody is capable of anything. Everybody wears a mask. Even the nicest person you know. Even you. Nobody can ever know for certain what’s going on in someone else’s mind, or what they’re willing to do if the right motivation exists.”
My phone rings before I can reply. I answer and it’s the police alerting me that they’re in the lobby.
The officers have a look around and question us. They don’t spend long, but when they’re finally gone, they took all my energy and left me with a headache.
Malcolm and I remain standing by the front door. I lean against the wall that separates my kitchen from the entryway, fold my arms, and close my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the break-in when you first noticed it?” he asks.
I open my eyes. “I thought it was a false alarm and I didn’t want to bother you.”
He shakes his head. “You’re never a bother. You can come to me for anything.”
“Then why did it seem like you didn’t want to drive me home today? It felt like you couldn’t wait to get me out of your truck.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I was—” He shoves his hand into his pockets and averts his gaze. “I was just distracted. Something was on my mind.”
What was on your mind?
I’m tempted to ask but I don’t want to be nosy. I give him a silent, understanding nod, then sweep my hand over my face.
My body demands rest. I doubt I’ll fall asleep without some help. I’ll have to take one of my sleeping pills.
Wait, that might not be a good idea. I tense with fresh dread, remembering my earlier worry.
“What if the intruder comes back after you’re gone?”
“I thought about that.” He pauses. “I can stay the night.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
My words are hollow, tears of relief stinging my eyes. Hell yes I want him to stay the night. His calm presence has been a huge support and comfort tonight. I never have to be afraid of anything if he’s around.
He steps closer and rubs my arms in reassurance.
“I want to, sweetheart. I want to make sure you’re safe, and that you’re not scared being here by yourself.”
It’s the second time he called me sweetheart, and it warms my insides. I like it even more than when he said I’m important to him.
Oh my god.
Am I developing a crush on him?
No. No. That’s so messed up because he’s not just my dad’s closest friend, we have a close relationship too. My brain can’t handle it and immediately rejects the idea.
“That’s really sweet of you, Mal.”
I hug him, beyond grateful for his offer to stay the night. He coils his arms around me and holds me close.
His heartbeat thuds steadily against my ear, his chest rising and falling with his even breathing. He’s capability and strength, his embrace promising protection from every awful thing in the world.
It’s how I felt when he scooped me up into his arms and carried me out of that burning basement many years ago. It’s a little different this time. I’m an adult woman now, and I’m aware of things I wasn’t when I was younger.
Like the impressive breadth of Malcolm’s chest, his hard body in contrast to my softness, and his personal scent that’s more enticing than the cologne he wore last night.
Without thinking, I tilt my face and press it closer to his neck, breathing him in. He goes still and my face burns.
Oh, no.
It’s true, even though I don’t want to accept it. I do have a crush on him, and it made me do something creepy and embarrassing.
I quickly pull away from him, avoiding his stare.
“Since you’re staying the night, I’ll get you a spare pillow and sheet.”