Page 124 of To Have and to Stalk
Shay lived on the fifth floor, so I pressed number five and leaned against the mirrored elevator wall, arms folded, and hummed.
“I think the apple’s rotten right to the core?—”
The door opened on floor two, and a woman who could be in her early seventies got on. She had a small dog that looked strikingly like its owner. When she saw me, her eyes widened.
“Charli XCX,” I said.
She stared forward, and even though she’d pressed the fourth floor, she got off on three.
When the elevators closed, I caught my reflection. Half my face was covered by a mask with skull teeth. I wore all black.
Oh.
Shit.
I dragged my hand across my jaw as the doors opened on the fifth floor. Probably not the smartest decision throwing on the mask first.
I was learning I wasn’t the smartest when it came to Shay.
Early two thousands girl pop came muffled through the wood when I got to Shay’s door. I pulled out my lock-picking kit and got to work.
Upbeat, pop punk rushed in like a wave crashing when I opened the door. The lights were on in the living room, and it sounded like Shay was cooking. I walked toward the kitchen, adjusting my mask.
I wanted to give her the best fucking time of her life.
Selfishly.
So when I had to let her go, maybe a piece of me would stay.
The kitchen was empty, left in the middle of use, like something frozen in time. A large, stainless steel pot of boiling water bubbled. Butter lay on its wax paper, half torn as if about to be used.
A little thrill edged up my spine.
She was playing a game. She wanted me to find her?—
It happened all at once. Thick sauce was thrown over my head, obscuring my vision. An angry, measured voice.
“Don’t fucking move.”
Shit.
That was not Shay.
I wiped the sauce from my eyes—red,marinara—finding Shay’s sister a few feet from me. She gripped uncooked pasta, brandishing it like a knife. I raised my hands?—
“I said don’t fucking move.” She jabbed the pasta at me, and I took a step back. It wasn’t that the pasta was threatening so much as the look in her eyes.
“I will shove this pasta so far up your ass that your stomach acids will cook it for me.”
Jesus Christ.
Never mind. The pasta was now definitely a threat.
Though…Iwasless concerned about Shay’s lock, knowing her sister was here.
“Let me explain?—”
Before I could get the words out, Lithie screamed. An ear-piercing, glass-shattering scream.
