Page 83 of Beloved
“Hmmm… I know, honey. You miss him too, but you know what? I’m angry with him. Furious.” She pawed me again and I laughed. If only things could be as easy in my life as it was in hers. The lying about how I felt was also easier than suffering any longer. I had to face the fact that Kazimir was gone. This was my chance at a normal life and I refused to sabotage all my hard work.
Maybe I would go to the rave after all. Why not? In winning the competition, I’d aced the finals. I deserved a little break. Right?
The hallway in my building seemed darker than normal and I realized one of the bulbs in the light fixtures was out. The setting and the experience with the possible intruder were creating an ominous feeling where I’d never been prone to being dramatic before.
I walked in with no obstacles facing me, no creepy men jumping from the shadows, immediately removing Golden’s leash. “Go get some water, baby. Mommy will be there in a minute.” After tossing my bag onto the couch, I moved to the window overlooking the same street. I wasn’t worried. No one was scaling the building without using equipment.
The air was the perfect temperature, the light breeze allowing me to take a deep breath. As midnight approached, the incredible tower had already been transformed into a towering spire of golden lace. The entire structure seemed to be illuminated with mesmerizing, frantic sparkles, as if a thousand stars had appeared over the Seine.
The sight was my inspiration for my art.
The city had always been the careful caress of my passion.
Now I was spiraling into stupid fantasies once again. The almost sighting of the man had driven me into a ridiculous tizzy of emotions that needed to stop right now. I had far too much to concentrate on to descend any further into the depths of my own private hell. How long had it taken me to dig my way out?
Sighing, I still blew a kiss to the lady Eiffel.
Before I turned around, a strange series of sensations tickled the back of my neck.
Wham!
What the hell was that?
The sound was a brutal thud coming from somewhere outside. It had to be at least a couple of blocks away.
Perhaps a vehicle running into something like an animal? Or sadly, a person? I listened again. There was no rubber hitting the road or squealing of brakes.
Nothing but quiet.
Still, goosebumps tickled my arms.
Maybe someone had been tossed against a building. Like the jerk who’d followed me. That noise I knew as well. When I heard nothing else, I concentrated on another, even more sinister sound.
A very low and almost inaudible sound that wasn’t exactly a menacing growl, but something equally as nerve-racking.
My baby girl was in the kitchen.
“What are you doing in there?” I was dragged from the window, considering grabbing my weapon before moving behind her, instantly glad I didn’t. “Golden. Why are you staring at the trashcan?”
She tipped her furry head, staring at me with such soulful eyes they appeared sad. She refused to budge, her tail sticking straight out. There was no open window in my kitchen, yet a faint scent hit me, sensual and nostalgic, instantly pulling me to a dark night so very long ago. I shuddered visibly, rubbing myarms while I glanced over my shoulder, certain I would find him there.
The silence and empty space were only interrupted by the sharp sound of a vehicle’s alarm. A faint aroma of warm leather and musk caressed the air, feeding the electric sensations. Even with the full minute that had passed, Golden wasn’t moving.
A lump had already formed in my throat, but I still refused to fall prey to the fear, taking two long strides toward the trashcan and pressing my foot on the lever. When the lid flipped open, I swallowed before peering inside. There were two empty water bottles and an orange juice carton along with a banana peel just like I’d left that morning.
But there was also a plum pit nestled on several crumpled pieces of paper towel. With my breath hitching, I glanced over my shoulder once again, the destination my fruit bowl.
I had to have everything just so. Others might call my twisted illness being anal retentive. Whatever the designation, towels had to be just so. Cans in the cabinet. Labels facing a certain way. Fruit just so inside a bowl.
A plum had been plucked from the bowl without rearranging the other fruits.
If that wasn’t strange enough, Golden Angel’s reaction was.
She was upset, as if she’d missed something while being gone for the day.
Or had missed someone.
I took another deep breath, slinking back into the living room. First, I made certain the front double lock was engaged before grabbing the weapon from my pack. Making certain it wasarmed, I held it in both hands as I moved around the apartment. My tiny apartment.
