Page 84 of The Tenant

“What about Whitney?”

He makes a face like he always does when I mention her. “What about her?”

“We already spent the two months’ rent she gave us plus the deposit. We’ll have to pay her back.”

“Yeah…”

We get interrupted by a server coming over with our baskets of food. Blake looks down at his burrito like he couldn’t be less interested in eating it. He scratches his arm again.

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “I don’t see any other way.”

I’ve got to figure out a way to get him to hold off on selling, at least for a little bit longer. But I get distracted when a familiar face comes inside the restaurant, walks up to the front, and gets in line behind a family of four.

It’s Elijah.

What on earth is he doing here?

Blake tosses a glance over his shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that guy one of the people who was looking at a room?”

I blink at him. “What guy?”

“The short squirrely guy with the beard and penguin hat?” He takes another look. “I remember that stupid hat. Don’t you?”

I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know. There were so many people. Maybe he looks familiar…”

Damn it, Elijah. Now that Blake has focused his attention back on me, Elijah is looking this way. It’s no coincidence that he’s here. He lives in Brooklyn. He wouldn’t just randomly be at the same Mexican restaurant as us on a Friday night.

Is hefollowingme?

“Excuse me,” I say to Blake. “I have to run to the bathroom.”

I grab my purse and hurry to the single bathroom, which turns out to have an out-of-order sign on the door. But the knob turns, and I push my way inside, closing the door behind me. The toilet bowl is drowning with paper towels—unusable—but that’s not why I came in here. I lock myself inside and find Elijah’s number in my phone. He picks up on the second ring.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss into the phone before he even has a chance to say hello. “Are you following me?”

“No,” he says quickly.

“Elijah…”

“Fine, okay. A little.” He clears his throat. “I’m worried about you, Whitney.”

“Krista.”

“Blake doesn’t look good,” he goes on. “He looks…unhinged.”

The lights flicker in the bathroom. “Yes, that’s the whole freaking point.”

“Yeah, but… Are you safe with him? What if he really does have a breakdown?”

“Blake isn’t going to hurt me.”

“But what if he does? What about what that psychic said?”

I roll my eyes. I cannotbelievehe is bringing that up. I only told him about it because I thought it was so ridiculously funny and I wanted to share it with somebody. Well, I shared it with Becky and Malcolm, but when I told them, I had to act like I really believed it.

“Blake is not violent,” I assure him. “I promise you, he’s not going to hurt me. I don’t think he’s ever even thrown a punch in his entire life.”

“I’m just worried about you…”