But first, coffee.
Pushing back the blankets, I toss my legs over the side of the bed and get to my feet.
What the hell?
I look down as I take a step, my toes cold and sinking into a saturated rug. The heel of my foot making a squishing sound and I make a face, confused to see a large, round puddle. I glance up at the ceiling, following a thin stream of what looks like water, dripping steadily from a brownish stained hole.
Shit!
Immediately I rush to the closet, dizzy and stumbling as I hop on one foot to get to a dry spot. As luck would have it, the leak is right next to my bed and is spreading to the middle of my room.
I don't have time for this!
I reach for the hook on the back of the door and yank off my white robe, wrapping it over the t-shirt and underwear I wore to bed.
Where’s my phone?
I whip my head to the nightstand but don’t see it, so I move closer without thinking, soaking both feet again.
Eww.
“There you are,” I grunt, spotting it on the bed.
Instantly, my mother’s contact screen lights up and I remember. I never sent her a text last night, I totally forgot. She’ll be curious, but not worried. I’m not sure she really worries about me. I’m definitely a burden to her, nothing more.
She’ll just have to wait. I’ve got bigger issues to deal with.
As I make my way to the front door, the usual activity of shadow figures and spirits in silhouette, trying to get my attention are nowhere to be found.
That’s weird.
While I appreciate their distance at the moment, I can’t help wondering why. It’s not like them to just stop altogether. It’s as if they’ve somehow been removed.
I pause and stand silently for a moment, my heart thumping loudly in my ears. This is actually strange, very strange. What is happening? Where did they all go? I swallow hard, my stomach knotting up at the thought of why, and I suck in a breath because I can feel them. Liv and Becca, they’re still close.
“Sylvia,” I glance around the living room for her. “I’m starting to get scared,” I say in my head.
Silence follows. I can’t feel her either.
I try to shake off my paranoia, there has to be an explanation. I’ll get nowhere letting my imagination run wild. Sylvia taught me to stand my ground and that’s what I have to do.
I pull back my shoulders, take a deep breath and open the front door.
That’s better, get ahold of yourself.
I walk out into the hallway and without question, it feels different, lighter even. I look both ways with anticipation, preparing myself for something bad to happen, but it’s perfectly fine. Whatever I was feeling is gone, or at least somewhere lurking in my apartment.
“Go! I’ll handle Liv and Becca.” I hear Sylvia’s voice in my head.
Relieved, I nod in response and tighten the belt of my white, knee-length robe. Still barefoot, I sprint toward the stairs, taking two at a time. The third floor looks exactly like mine, lit with wall sconces dating back to the art deco period and olive-green hallway carpet from the seventies. The door is just ahead on the left so I stop once again, running both hands through my tousled bed hair. Why am I even trying? I know I look like shit.
I pull in a breath and take a few steps forward.
Why am I so nervous?
I slowly reach out, balling my fist and gently knock three times.
Please don’t answer… please don’t answer. I’ll just get a bucket.
The heavy thud of footsteps sound from inside and I glance up at the peephole.
The door flies open. “What?”
I jerk back, gazing into his familiar deep green eyes. He’s still drop-dead gorgeous and just like before I’m speechless.
“I-I…”
He tips his head to the side, looking me up and down, his unshaven face and black, wavy hair only adding to his god-like sexiness.
“You,” he says, eyes squinting as if suddenly remembering me. “You’re the girl below me.”
I nod, because it’s the only thing I can do.
“Oh, sorry,” his brows push together. “I’m Ascot, Ascot Sideris,” he reaches out, giving me a hint of a smile.
I blink several times and swallow. “Elise Crawford,” I manage to say, taking his hand, his grip strong and warm in mine.
“Shit,” he looks over his shoulder, “hang on for a sec,” he darts off in ridiculously perfect fitting blue jeans and a snug white t-shirt. I watch him grab some kind of tool off the bar, maybe a wrench, and then disappear down the hallway.
I let out a breath suddenly aware of how flakey I must have come off.
Smooth, real smooth, Elise.
“Who the hell are you?”
My head whips to the right, catching the glare of an attractive, curvy brunette walking toward me. She’s slightly taller than me, wearing a tight fitting black mini-skirt and a hot pink, silk blouse. Her chocolate brown eyes narrow, slowly looking me up and down.
I blink, tightening the belt around my waist. “I’m below him,” I shake my head, looking back to the door just as Ascot reappears. “I mean, I’m his neighbor.”
“Humph,” she walks past me, her shoulder brushing hard against mine, “If you’re here for a booty call,” she bats her lashes up at Ascot. “You’re too late.”
“What did you just say?” I blurt out, suddenly furious.
“Amber!” Ascot growls, eyes practically glowing with anger as he blocks her from getting any further. “I won’t discuss this with you again,” he says through clenched teeth. “It’s over.”
She tilts her head and grins. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, lover.”
Eww…
I turn to leave, uncomfortable and look back over my shoulder. “There’s water dripping into my bedroom,” I say, locking eyes with Ascot. “I’ll tell the Super instead.”
His face clears. “I’ve got it handled.”
I wave, giving him a token smile as I move toward the stairs.
“Elise,” he calls out and I stop, turning to face him. “I apologize for that,” he says, walking toward me as Amber gives me a go-to-hell look. “I’ll fix any damage.”
“It’s okay,” I swallow, watching his face twist with regret. “I think there’s a Shop-Vac or something in the storage closet.
“If it’s alright, I can be there in a few minutes. I can’t have you walking on wet floors,” his deep, sexy voice resonates straight through me.
Jesus, what is he doing to me?
I give him a nod, avoiding eye contact with Amber and he turns, walking back to his apartment. I reach for the stair railing, taking the first few steps and pause to listen.
Frustrated murmurs begin to echo along the concrete walls, a higher-pitched voice pleading, or maybe begging, and then a door slams. I jump, tripping on the next step and rush all the way down, letting out a small yelp when my bare foot steps on something sharp.
Ignoring the pain, I sprint up the hallway to my door, panting, as I quickly slip in. I close my eyes, leaning my head against the door when a rush of dread hits me like an on-coming train.
Liv and Becca.
Shit.
“Sylvia?” I whisper, searching for her but she’s nowhere in sight. “Where are you?” I ask in my head, pushing back the ping in my belly. I make a fast beeline to the bedroom and I grab a pair of jeans.