Page 28 of Ruthless Salvation

I waited until the sun started to light the sky before letting myself in the building. I wanted to make sure she was sound asleep. One of the benefits of forcing her slimy superintendent to update the security panel was getting access to the code. Getting into her place wasn’t a problem. I’d copied her key ages ago. I hadn’t used it until now, but damn had it been tempting.

Fascination filled me as I took inventory of her personal space. The L-shaped studio allowed for the illusion of a bedroom, and the main living space centered around a tiny sofa, a two-seater dinette, and a small but modern corner kitchen. She had a good amount of stuff crammed into the apartment, but nothing of a personal nature. I didn’t see one photograph or memento hung on the wall or displayed on the windowsill aside from an empty ceramic vase.

I peeked into the bathroom, unable to see much in the darkness except to confirm only one toothbrush lay by the sink. No beard-trimmer. No men’s boxers lying about. Nothing to indicate anywhere that she had a man coming over with any regularity.

My relief was diminished by a gnawing sense of irregularity that I couldn’t explain. Maybe I was projecting a sentimentality she didn’t possess. Not every woman was a fan of photographs and momentos. Yet she seemed like the sort who would display memories to keep them close, even when limited on space.

That conundrum would have to go unanswered.

Unable to leave without seeing her, I rounded the corner and felt a piece of my soul sigh at the sight of her, like a weary traveler returning home. Something about her called to me on an elemental level. I’d spent my adult life always on edge, but with her around, I felt a foreign sense of peace.

It was no wonder I’d developed an addiction to her.

Even now, I craved the taste of her. If I didn’t think she’d run from me, I’d wake her up with my tongue and remind her how good we were together. Not today. Not when she was already wary of me.

I took one last long look, then turned for the door. That was when I noticed the magnets on her fridge. She had those multicolored letters made for children to practice learning letters and words. She also had printed words on small strips of magnet—the sort used to make fridge poetry—but the thing that caught my eye was despite the chaos, I could make out my name right in the middle. The letters weren’t placed together or even all right side up, but they were there. T.O.R.I.N.

Before I knew what I was doing, my finger gently guided them around until they were all straight. What were the chances those letters happened to be close to one another? Had she spelled my name on her fridge at some point?

Even if she hadn’t, I liked knowing it was there now. That was why, despite my better judgment, I left them as they were before slipping out as quietly as I’d let myself in.

Present

Maybe it wastime to try out the mountains out west. I’d seen beautiful photos of Montana in the summer. I hadn’t ventured that far north because of the cold, but maybe it was time. Maybe leaving big cities behind was exactly what I needed.

If that was the case, why did I feel like crying?

Each website I visited displaying the amenities of a potential destination ratcheted the vise around my chest tighter and tighter until my heart was lodged in my throat. I didn’t want to leave. No, it was worse than that. The thought of leaving scratched open the scabs littering the surface of my heart.

I had friends for the first time in years. I had an apartment I loved, and a job I enjoyed when my boss wasn’t making me feel a hurricane of emotions. How was I supposed to leave Micky and disappear without a word? I’d been so cautious in the past not to let myself get close to people for that reason. Leaving would have been so much harder.

This time was supposed to have been different.

I was supposed to be free to establish roots, but that had all fallen apart. Not only was I contemplating leaving but it would be ten times worse than any move I’d made before. I couldn’t leave a trail. I would have to keep Micky in the dark. How insufferably cruel for both of us. I’d miss her down to my toes, and she’d probably call the National Guard when I turned up missing.

I closed my laptop, needing a break. My poor ravaged heart could only take so much. Getting the mail wasn’t particularly enjoyable since it was only ever bills and junk, but it was a distraction I sorely needed, so I grabbed my keys and made for the elevator.

Lucky me, Ralph was in the lobby where the mailboxes were located. I kept my head down hoping to avoid him.

“Hey, Stormy. Long time no see!”

I grimaced. “Hey, Ralph. How’s it going?”

“Good, good. I saw that friend of yours leaving this morning. Hope he saw the new security panel. No need for him to worry anymore.” Ralph came closer, but I hardly noticed. I was too confused trying to figure out what he was talking about.

What friend had he seen leaving this morning? Did he mean Torin dropping me off out front?

“This morning? Or do you mean last night?”

“Nah, this morning. What was it … about six thirty, I think.” He puffed out his chest. “Can’t sleep the day away, lots to do around here.”

That wasn’t Torin. Then who?

An icy chill engulfed me. “What exactly did this friend look like?”

“Tall with curly brown hair. Blue eyes. Looked like he’d seen a fist or two recently.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Gotta say, not sure he’s the sort you wanna hang around wit.”

A whole new set of alarms sounded in my head. ThatwasTorin. But what had he been doing at the building hours after he’d dropped me off?