Page 38 of Mortala
Of course he is.
One corner of his mouth lifts into a knowing smirk before he gives me a quick wink. My faceburns. He knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I duck my head, biting back a smile as I stare at the floor, silently praying the elevator reaches his floor before I completely embarrass myself. The doors slide open with a soft chime, and we step into the quiet hallway, our footsteps echoing against the concrete floor as we make our way toward the door.
Miles' hand squeezes mine three times when we see it and I can feel my stomach churn at the sight. His door is cracked open. One look at Miles and I can tell he didn’t leave it like that.
He’s here.
The thought crashes into me so hard it steals the air from my lungs. He’s waiting inside. He found me.
“What if someone is in there?” Kaitlin asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know.” Miles takes a slow step toward the apartment. “You guys stay here.”
“What?” I blurt.
“I’ll check it out.”
Absolutely not. Every instinct in my body screams at me to get out of this hallway. To run and get as far away from that apartment as possible. Because if my father is inside…
Miles has no idea what he’s walking into.
I instinctively take a step backward toward the elevator. Kaitlin notices immediately.
“Maddie?”
“What if…” My voice shakes. “What if it’s a trap?”
Miles looks back at me. The concern in his eyes nearly undoes me.
“I’ll be okay.”
No. He doesn’t understand. He can’t. He doesn’t know my father. He doesn’t know what he’s capable of.
Without another word, Miles pushes the door open. He disappears inside. Every second that passes feels like an hour. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he finally reappears.
He looks…different. His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched, but he isn’t hurt.
“It’s clear,” he says quietly, then looks back inside his apartment. “Come on.”
I step inside on shaky legs, my eyes immediately sweeping across the apartment. The place is completely unrecognizable. The bar stools have been knocked onto their sides, one of them missing a leg completely. The couch has been flipped over, its cushions scattered across the floor like someone had ripped the room apart looking for something. Picture frames lay shattered beneath broken glass, and drawers from the kitchen hang open with their contents dumped carelessly across the hardwood.
It’s chaos. Violent fucking chaos.
My stomach churns as I glance over at Miles. For the briefest moment, his shoulders slump. His eyes move slowly over the destruction, taking in every broken piece of furniture, every shattered belonging. Then, just as quickly, the moment is gone.
His jaw hardens, the emotion disappearing behind a wall I can’t break through. He isn’t looking for whoever did this. Miles walks toward the overturned couch and nudges one of thecushions with his boot. It rolls over, exposing deep slash marks running through the fabric. White stuffing spills across the floor where someone had repeatedly driven a knife into it.
“Oh my god…” The words barely leave my mouth. “Miles, I-I’m so sorry.”
My fingers disappear into my curls, gripping at the roots as tears sting my eyes. This is my fault. Every bit of it. If I’d stayed away from him…if I never let him get close, none of this would’ve happened. He would’ve gone home to a normal apartment instead of this.
I blink through my tears, trying to take everything in, when something near Kaitlin catches my eye.
A shattered flowerpot. Dark soil is scattered across the hardwood, but that’s not what stops me. There’s a footprint. Clear enough to make out the tread. My heart leaps into my throat.
Evidence.
