Page 6 of Dead Pretty

Then, I start the task of knocking on each of my neighbor’s doors and speaking to people I have spent the last six months avoiding.

I let myself back into my apartment, locking the door behind me. The cat is sitting on the sofa, looking at me.

“Well, seems no one knows who you belong to.” I shrug.

Not one of my neighbors had a clue. Except the elderly lady in apartment 212, who I learned is called Chloe, has severe arthritis, and is actually really nice. She told me that, a few days ago, a new guy had moved into apartment 209, which is down the other end of the hall from mine, so the cat could possibly be his.

But when I knocked on apartment 209’s door, there was no answer. So, I’ll try later.

I do my check of my apartment again.

Stupid, I know, because I was gone all of fifteen minutes, but I won’t settle until I’ve done it.

When I’m finished, I grab the book I started last night—about a hot-as-hell hockey player and the girl he shouldn’t be in love with but is.

I might not be able to have love in my life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read about it.

Taking a seat on the sofa next to my new friend, I put the TV on for background noise. Total silence makes me uncomfortable.

The cat climbs into my lap and gets herself settled.

“Guess you’re sitting here then.”

I begin reading my book, and I stroke her soft fur, enjoying the sound of her sweet, little purring noise.

I have gotten only halfway through a chapter when there’s a knock at my door, and I almost jump out of my skin.

I scare the crap out of the cat as well. It skitters to the other side of the sofa.

“Sorry,” I whisper to the cat, pressing my hand to my chest against my pounding heart.

Putting my book down, I get up and walk on quiet feet to the front door.

Reaching up on my tiptoes, I peer through the peephole.

And my heart stops.

It’s the guy from the library.

He’s here at my front door.

I take a step back.

Why is he here?

How does he know I live here?

Blood starts to rush to my head.

I feel dizzy.

I reach for the wall for support.

Another knock.

“Hello?” His voice is deep and throaty, and it does a combination of things to me. Makes my stomach flip and my fear increase.

It’s confusing to me.