Page 9 of In Case You Didn't Know

“I think you’ll find it’s an exclusive, luxury adult intimacy venue,” Charlie says, before he guffaws again.

And I wrinkle my nose because I’d never thought that somebody like Asher Fitzgerald would frequent a place like that. I’m really trying not to think about what he does there.

And yes, I’m completely failing.

“Listen, I have to go. Try not to do anything stupid until I’m back to witness it,” Charlie says. “It’ll be okay. It sounds like you both have something to lose if this gets out. If he tells anybody he’s seen you there, he’ll have to explain why he was there, too.”

It’s a good point. And another reason why I love my cousin.

He hangs up and I slump back on my bed, not feeling any better about the other night. All I can think about is the humiliation I’ll feel the next time I see Asher. And Iwillhave to see him. Autumn is my best friend after all.

Before I can think about what the hell I’ll say to him, I hear a thud against the door. I tip my head to the side, trying to figure out what it was, since it’s after midnight and the only neighbors on this floor are Mr. and Mrs. Penny, a lovely old couple who are both slightly deaf and go to bed at nine o’clock sharp.

After a minute of being on high alert, I start to relax. I’m going to brush my teeth and go to sleep, because tomorrow I have more words to write. It’s only as I quietly pad across the hall that I hear the tinny voice. Like somebody talking through a radio.

My heart starts to hammer against my chest.

In bare feet, I tiptoe as quietly as possible, praying the floorboard in the hall doesn’t squeak. Because if I’m about to be bludgeoned by a serial killer, I’d like to at least draw my time out on earth for as long as possible.

It’s only a short walk through the tiny living room, slash kitchen, slash dining room to the front door. This is Manhattan, after all, and the rent per square foot is stupidly high. When I get to the door, I roll onto the balls of my feet and press my right eye against the peep hole, only to see an eye on the other side trying to stare in.

“Shit!” I shout loudly, almost falling over in my attempt to back away from danger. My heart starts to pound as I steady myself, putting my hand against my chest to try to control my breathing. A knife, I need a knife. I look around, trying to remember if I’ve emptied the tiny dishwasher.

I’m going to die with my face in dirty dishes. Nobody will find my body for weeks. It’ll be all over social media, what a loser I am, even in death.

“Miss Salinger?” a voice calls softly. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

He knows my name. Is this targeted? Maybe he’s not here to kill me but kidnap me. He’ll send a note to one of my brothers demanding a huge ransom, and I’ll never hear the end of it.

“Who are you?” I call out.

“My name’s Shaun. I’m a security guard.”

“How do I know that? You could be anybody.”

“I’m putting my ID up against the door. You can look through the peep hole and see it.”

“And let you shoot me through the door? Oh no.”

“If I shot you through the door it’d make a huge mess,” he points out, annoyingly reasonable. “It’d be much simpler to make a fake ID and have you open the door so I could use a silencer.”

“You’re not making me feel any better about this, Shaun.”

“I understand. And you’re not supposed to know I’m here. I’ve only worked for this company for a few weeks,” he says.

“So whyareyou here?” If it isn’t to kill me, that is.

“I’ve been asked to guard your apartment after an incident the other night. I’ve been mostly outside keeping watch on the building. But my boss asked me to make a check inside tonight.”

“How long have you been here?” I ask him, frowning.

“The last couple of nights. After the incident on Friday.”

The incident on Friday? I frown, because there was only one thing happening on Friday. “Did the club send you?” I ask him.

“What club?”

A little tingle snakes down my spine. “What company did you say you work for?”